With her.
The words I need to hear spilling from her blood-smeared lips, a fierce goddess feasting on what remains of the man I tore apart.
She’s soaked in blood and breathless beauty, a vision carved from violence. And all I can think about is sinking into her, inch by inch, until she’s gasping my name and begging me to let her come. Until the world ends, or she breaks—whichever comes first.
But I can’t.
Not yet.
Aurora is a virgin. Which means I need to be gentle, even if she does own a drawer full of sex toys shaped like things I’ve killed—yes, I looked, and no, I’m not sorry. One of them had tentacles. Another looked like a dragon’s cock dipped in glitter. I’m desperately confused. And yet … by the weeping singularity … part of me wants her to bend me over and pick the biggest one.
I want it all. Just … not tonight. Tonight, every touch, every kiss, every breath is about her.
I want to rewrite what he scarred, replace every memory of that vile prick.
I want her body to remember me instead.
I want to make her feel powerful.
“My fearless Aurora, I don’t know what happens when this is over, or what to expect when you claim your power. You have to be clear with me if something hurts or if anything feels wrong with your magic. Tonight is about communication. And honesty. Do you understand?”
She nods.
Such a small thing.
But it detonates inside me.
My shadows shudder, more of them slipping from my skin, reaching for her.
I don’t stop them. I let them feel her. Let them worship.
They twine around her arms, curling at her waist. One slithers along her throat, tasting its way across the skin it’s ached for since time began.
The shadows are hungry, desperate, trembling on the edge of devotion … and something darker.
Every tendril knows she’s ours.
And when she tilts her chin, baring her throat, offering herself without a word, the shadows press closer.
Her power stirs.
Not because I’m taking her, but because she’s claiming me.
Because for the first time, she’s safe enough to burn.
Her gaze meets mine as hellfire cracks and bleeds through her irises, giving her the look of something ancient and dangerous.
There’s no going back. She’s my queen, my goddess, my fucking salvation. And I will worship her in this breath, this lifetime, and every eternity after.
Aurora’s legs lock around my waist, our breath thick in the air, echoing off bare walls. I bow my head, press my lips to hers, and urge her mouth open with my tongue. When she yields, it’s not delicate or soft, but untamed and burning and already mine.
I tighten the fist tangled in her hair, and the sweet whimper that falls from her lips almost makes me come undone.
She looks at me like a starving predator. The kind of look not even death would risk giving me.
But Aurora?
If she wanted to devour me, I’d let her. Silent, willing, surrendering piece by piece until all that remained was my name on her lips.
