I felt his magic rise in response, flicking over my skin. I wouldn’t be able to control it. I’d never experienced this before in my life. I didn’t know?—
Alaryk’s lips pressed hard and firm into my own. Shock raceddown my spine. I felt his hand drift from beneath my jaw to my waist, the other cupping the back of my head to keep me in place.
“Give it to me,” he breathed against my lips, his voice gentle and soft. Like a lover’s. “I’ll take it all for you,mariss.”
Just like in Ny’am, I felt the press of his magic. It wasn’t an intrusion, however, not like it’d been on the Dead Lands outside the gates of Dothik. This felt like a seeking question, a skimming touch across my skin.
And momentarily, blissfully, it gave me relief.
The panic ebbed. I was still crying, could taste my salty tears on his lips, but I latched desperately onto his magic like it was a lifeline he’d thrown to me.
I kissed him back in complete surrender. Like if I stopped, I might drown. I poured everything into that kiss.
His fingers dug into one of my hips. I heard the reverberating growl in his throat when he felt me submit to him, but I couldn’t tell if it was in relief or pleasure. And when his magic intertwined with my own, as it had in Ny’am, it felt like a golden bloom of warmth slowly seeping through my chest, chasing away the cold, icy panic and raw, desperate emotions that had built and built within me.
I knew what he was doing.
He’d discovered that I responded to pleasure. To softness. Not pain, like him.
He was distracting me. Giving me what I needed to shock my mind into regaining control before it was too late. The emotions were dulled but still present, but I poured everything into him selfishly. My hands came up to grip the front of his sturdy vest, the silver catches scratching against my forearms. I was afraid he’d pull away. That he’d leave me to navigate this alone.
I was still furious with him. For keeping me locked away when I’d told him that one of my fears was to be trapped, forhaving the biting arrogance to think he could control me, like what I wanted—and needed—didn’t matter.
I didn’t have to like him. I certainly didn’t trust him.
Instead I wanted to use him…just like he was using me. I wanted to feel the wash and strength of his power, I wanted him to teach me how to control it, I wanted to feel that tantalizing and addicting desire deep in my belly.
And if I was being honest with myself, it had been much too long since I’d felt another’s touch. I feltstarvedfor it.
The low rumble in his chest made my fingers curl. The way our magic was connected…it made me feel like I was floating, all while being pinned against the door by Alaryk’s strong thigh wedged between my legs, pressing into my core.
He pressed harder, stooping down to angle our mouths against one another better, like he wantedmore.
I knew Alaryk had a string of lovers. There were probably a million reasons why this was a terrible idea. I didn’t care. I wanted tofeelsomething other than guilt and anger. Alaryk was offering me a reprieve. Consequences be damned.
I bit his lower lip, keeping it between my teeth, and felt the hot rush of his sharp exhale. I felt his body shake, felt what I could only describe as electricity through our joined magic, zipping down my spine. He pressed his hips into me more firmly, and I felt the shocking hardness of his cock.
I didn’t know who stepped over the invisible line we were both about to cross first.
Maybe it was the way I’d dragged my hands down the firm, solid wall of his chest, the edge of my little finger skimming over his cock, making him hiss.
Or maybe it was him, devouring my lips in a deeper kiss, his tongue sweeping against mine, a tantalizing tease that only made me mew in frustration in the back of my throat. His knee pressed to the throbbing place between my thighs harder, the movement making a spark of pleasure rise.
Being connected to his magic, however, only added to the sensation. I could feel it caressing my sensitive skin, skimming across my taut nipples, weaving its way up the column of my throat, making my pulse jump.
My clothes began to feel too scratchy, toomuch.
“Get them off,” I gasped before I dragged his mouth back toward me. He tasted divine. He smelled like the blue smoke that had risen from the little tray on his bedside table, earthy and addictive.
And if he stopped touching me, kissing me, I thought I might wither away, consumed by the uncontrollable pressure of my own heartstone magic. Killed by the very thing I’d been taught to fear.
He growled, the only warning I got, low and rumbling in the back of his throat, before I was up in his arms.
The table was closer than the bed. And that was where I found myself being placed. I arched up when he left me, and I wanted to scream at the flood of sensation that rose. He’d been keeping my magic at bay. Without him, it felt like I was being torn apart.
Alaryk looked feral, a darkness gleaming in his crystalline-blue eyes, like he wanted to hunt for his meal before he savored it.
“Does it ache?” came his voice, smoky and husky. “Do you need me to ease it,mariss?”
