“Saelûn,” he gasps, “please don’t varkh.”
I swirl my tongue again. Another drop. Another whimper.
“I’m yours. I belong to you. Let me show you—please let me show you.”
Andrikpov-
The moment her mouth closes around me, my entire world shatters. Wet heat surrounds me. Her soft little tongue flicks against one of the ridges, and I nearly sob. “Lúmina’ka, veyr’khae...” I pant, while my hands clench into the frostvinesabove my head, claws digging into the frozen bark. (Little light, I’m breaking.)
I can’t breathe or think. There’s nothing but the feeling of her mouth on me, her lips stretching around my girth, the gentle pressure as she tries to take me deeper—the unbearable sweetness of her tongue dragging over me like I’m something sacred.
My hips jerk involuntarily. The vines scream as they tighten, ice cracks, gouging my skin hard enough for blood to bloom in cold halos around my wrists.
Three thousand years.
Of waiting.
Of aching.
Of convincing myself I could bear this when the time came.
But I can’t
Her tongue circles a carved fractal near the base, and my control fractures completely. “Saelûn, veskhae, veskhae—” (Soulbond, take me, take me?—)
She sucks harder. My whole body convulses. I turn my face into my arm, fangs sinking deep into the flesh of my own bicep to muffle the cry tearing loose. Cool blood floods my mouth.
“Lumi—” Her name breaks on my lips. “I can’t. You need to stop. I’m going to?—”
She doesn’t pull away. She moans around me and takes me deeper. Her hands wrap around the length that won’t fit in her mouth, and begin to move—long strokes over my slick, swollen skin.
The pressure building at the base of my spine is unbearable now, like a dam built of centuries cracking wide open.
“Please. Please don’t stop.” I moan. My head tips back as I struggle to breathe. “Let me give it to you, Ves’Lumi. Saelûn. Kaemorin—kaemorin—kaemorin.” (This is all for you, Lumi. My mate. Mine—mine—mine?—)
She hums around me. The vibration destroys me.
“My kaevûn is yours,” I beg. “Take it, please take it.”
One of her hands wraps around my vreskaeth, and the sound that rips from my throat is inhuman, even for me.
“Tighter, please, lumina’ka.” I choke. “Squeeze my vreskaeth, like you own them. Because you do—you own all of me.”
Frost explodes from my chest in a blinding burst. The vines crack. The bed shudders beneath us. Shimmering ice splinters up the walls, crawling across the ceiling like an Alaskan light show.
My release hits like an avalanche. I feel it pulse out of me in waves, spilling into her mouth endlessly. She swallows every. single. drop.
“Velkaerûn ael’saelûn. Ves karûn.” (Swallow me, soulbond. Take my offering.)
I watch her throat bob, catching everything I give her. Her eyes flutter closed like she’s savoring the taste of me.
The vines snap. My hands are finally free.
I lurch forward before she can even open her eyes, dragging her up my body, crushing her into my chest. My fingers twist into her hair. My mouth crashes into hers desperately, tasting myself on her tongue.
“Thal’morin,” I rasp against her lips. (My heart.) “Saelûn’kora, you destroyed me.” (Soul of my soul.)
She blinks up at me, dazed and glowing, utterly drunk on my thraevûn and release.
