He seized her ankles and tore her free. His shadow-self dissolved into smoke, curling away as if afraid of what he might do if it lingered too long.
Rune climbed over her, one arm lifting her hips, the other tangling in her hair.
“Say it again,” he growled against her neck.
“I need you.Only you.”
His lips grazed her ear. “Then breathe.”
She inhaled a breath and he sank into her, inch by blessed inch.
Alora’s back arched off the bed with a cry. He filled her so completely, she had never imagined such heat, such intimacy, and yet it was him,always him, that made even the forbidden feel like worship.
Rune groaned. Panting as if it had taken everything out of him. The fit was still tight, but much more forgiving than before. Any pain eased away with the spark of his magic as he continued to fully sink into her. She gasped for air, her body shaking from the girth of him.
He kissed the tears rolling down her temples. “You feeldivine,” he said, lips branding down her throat, biting down enough to claim. “So soft, so fuckingperfect.”
She shook beneath him. On the verge of ascendance or demise.
Rune stayed still, letting her adjust. Once her shaky breathing evened, he asked, “May I move?”
A smile rose to her lips and she brushed his jaw. It was that rare tenderness he only reserved for her that made her completely surrender.
At the first roll of his hips, she whimpered, the fullness overwhelming. He captured her mouth in his, each thrust was slow, dragging against her, alighting every thread of her beingwith pleasure. Her legs wrapped around his waist, instinctively, needfully.
As he picked up the rhythm, the pressure grew insatiable, and bliss sweeping through her. Sweat beaded on Rune’s skin, wings flared and shadows curled around her hips as he thrust deeper, every motion shaking the bed.
The shadows wrapped around them like smoke around fire, witnessing the unholy union of light and darkness, of a goddess and of the eternally damned.
Light radiated between them, their markings blazing with magic. Power surged through her body and the paths of white light bloomed on her chest like a flower of death, lined in red. Rune’s marks lit to blazing crimson as well.
Ecstasy. It was pure ecstasy.
“Do you feel that, Alora,” Rune breathed against her lips. Every plunge of his hips made all of her dissolve. “That is our bond at last falling into place. Not even fate can take you away from me now.”
She couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. She clung to his shoulders as Rune fucked her like a god who had gone too long without worship.
Alora moaned, arching into him as he slammed into her again, sharper this time, his length dragging against every nerve that made her toes curl. She was already close again, the pressure building too fast, her body already trembling from the way he moved.
Like he couldn’t get enough.
Like he’d never stop.
“Look at you,” he growled. “You look so beautiful. Look at how perfectly your pretty cunt accepts me.”
Alora did, amazed to see that wicked length plow into her, slick with her arousal. Deep and fully. Pulsating with red paths.Penetrating her to the depths of her soul. The sensation. The fullness. It was maddening.
“Let it out, love. I want to hear you scream.”
One of his hands slid between them, and his thumb rolled over her sensitive bud with practiced, punishing circles. Release crashed through her like a wave of electricity.
Then something hummed beneath her skin.
Something primal and instinctive, as though something older than language had finally risen to the surface. The markings on her skin blazed as Rune’s did, his body relenting as he wildly drove into her.
She couldn’t take it anymore.
Her hands curled into his shoulders, and her fangs sank into his throat where his pulse beat strongest.
