“Veyr’thalin etra’saev, kaemorin veskae.”(Sacred blood remembers, and you are mine.)
Her thighs twitch. She makes a sound I feel in mykaevûn—like a sob and a plea folded into one.
“Say it for me, and I won’t stop until the last sliver of ice melts.”
“You’re my mate.”
“In Vraksûn," I growl. "Tell me in my tongue.Our tongue,” I say, as I slide the ice once through her lunhae—teasing through her slickness. The cold makes her gasp.
She cries out: “Saelûn. You’re my Saelûn, Andrik.”
And gods, the way she says it—breathless and broken—I’m going to melt right along with this icicle.
“Kai’velorin ves’thral,”I rasp against her neck. (You undo me completely.)
The edge kisses her entrance, and she whimpers. Her body is so hot it starts melting on contact. I push it into her, slowly, watching her body adjust to the temperature. She clenches around it, and I nearly lose my mind.
“Tell me you don’t want this, Lumi,” I ask as I thrust the ice in and out of her, slow and controlled. Her heat melts it inch by inch, sending trickles of frost water dripping down my wrist—warm from her body, cold from mine.
She arches into me instead.
I press deeper, guiding every inch with my hand, the other tightening around her hips to help guide her down.
I lower my mouth to her neck, my fangs barely graze the skin where her pulse pounds. “You’re kaemroin,” I growl. “Even if you pretend you’re not. Even if you try to run. This body—this heat—it knows.”
“Andrik, faster. Please.” She moans.
“Veyr’luvar kai’morin,” I growl. (You beg so sweetly for me.)
My hand moves faster, thrusting the ice deeper. Her walls squeeze around it, trying to hold onto something that’s melting with every stroke.
“That’s it, Saelûn. Take all of it for me. That’s my thal’kisha.” I praise.
Her skin is burning hotter now—the heat consuming her.
I’m so hard it’s painful, but all I care about is her feeling every ounce of pleasure she deserves. To keep her mind turned off for as long as I can keep her body sated.
“Andrik, please, I want you, not just the ice,” she whines. Frost-laced vines curl higher, coolness dancing across her fevered skin. They move slowly, back and forth, teasing over her nipples.
“I can’t take anymore,” she moans.
“Kael’tharvin ves’morin,” I murmur against her neck. (You can take everything I give you.)
I let go of her lower back and reach around her front. The moment I touch her kaelinae, she jerks. I massage slow circles. “That’s it. Let it soothe you.”
“What do you think, Lumi?" I chuckle softly, feeling her pulse racing beneath my fingers. “I think you like when I cage you.Velorin ves’thral kai’morin.” (Safe in my hold, and you know it.)
“Andrik, please unbind one of my wrists?” She pleads between moans.
My claws flex. The darker part inside of me roars to keep her bound and helpless, but she asked so sweetly.
The vines slowly unwind from her left wrist. She reaches behind herself and grabs onto my thigh. Her palm burns through my pants—sothrahkinghot I hiss. Her nails dig in, and it shoots straight to mykaevûn.
She pushes and pulls against my leg, using it as leverage to work herself faster over the icicle. Using me—using my body to get what she needs.
“Thal’kisha,” I praise.
“So—so close,” she whimpers.
