His dark eyes flickered to Nymiria, his mouth falling open just a fraction before curling into a menacing grin. “Oh, you’refucked.”
Aziel’s teeth should have been powder by now, considering how roughly he ground them together. “I am very much aware of that, thank you.” He growled.
Trio sighed. “Well, best of luck to you. I’m just going to—”
“Leave?”
“Gods, yes. And far enough away so that I don’t have to hear or smell anything.” Another slight look of disgust, a small wink, and a flash of a broad grin was all Trio offered him before disappearing into a plume of shadows.
Aziel stared at the closed door for a moment too long, trying his absolute best to regulate his breathing. But every deep inhalation just filled his senses with more of her. His eyes screwed shut, but not even that helped. He couldhearher. He couldsmellher. And unless he was going to throw himself over the balcony or chain himself in her father’s dungeons, he was going to have tofaceher.
So he did.
Slowly, carefully, Aziel walked to where Nymiria was still moving frantically against his sheets. The look on her face was one of complete helplessness, her cheeks and body flushed red with heat. He wished there was another way. He wished that he could make it all easier for her. Hewishedhe didn’t want to drive his cock between her thighs and bring her the relief she so desperately craved.
If he were a weaker man, he would have.
“Please,” Nymiria whispered, her fingers moving towards his arm. “Aziel,pleasehelp me. I can’t—” The moment the tipsof her fingers brushed over his wrist, her body convulsed, her panted breaths bleeding out through moans. Aziel’s body reacted, her natural scent and the essence of her arousal washing over him, seeping into his pores. It ignited a fire in him, his cock pressing uncomfortably against the fabric of his pants, his hands twitching—contracting with the intense desire to touch. “Please do something.”
“I can’t.” It almost came out as a whimper, his eyes screwing shut the moment she drug her nails across his skin. “You’ll hate me for it.” Nymiria let out a pathetic laugh, the hand that was not grappling for purchase of his arm now inching its way between her thighs. A growl ripped from his chest, coming from a place inside of him that was beyond his control. It was all too much. Too much to see, to hear, to smell. At this rate, he would let her use his face, his hands, every single part of his body as she pleased. With or without this intense arousal, he would have let her. The desire had been there long before any of this happened.
“Look at me,” He commanded. Nymiria’s eyes focused on his and he swore under his breath, hating that she chose this moment, of all of them, to actually listen to him. “I need you to tell me, in your own words, that you want me to touch you. Do you understand?” When she didn’t speak, Aziel leaned forward, his patience a fraying thread. “Do you want this?”
Nymiria wasn’t sure how to answer. She’d always wanted him. In the past few weeks, she’d vehemently denied herself of a single touch. There had been moments, like the hug they’d shared in the forest, or whenever he whispered something to her during lessons, and all of the times they’d been too close to one another, that she’d dared to throw every reservation she held out the window.
She wanted him. No matter if it was some unseen force of nature or not. He was at the forefront of her thoughts, woven through the torn and tattered fabric of her soul.
“I’ll always want you,” her voice was strained, her brow pinching together with a desire so painful it made her want to sob. “No matter how far I run from you, you are always here.” She brought the hand she was gripping to her chest, placing it over the organ inside of her that just kept pumping. Louder.Louder. Like some sort of ceremonial drum. The simple pressure of his hand on her had Nymiria whimpering. “Do you want this?”
Aziel stared down at her, his tongue wetting his lips. “Always, Moonflower.”
There were an endless amount of things that this arousal clouded, but his lack of hesitation in the words he spoke were clear. Her eyes dropped to his swollen, shimmering lips, her fingers weaving through his as she moved his hand a fraction lower, to the heavy swell of her breast. It was all he needed. A silent confirmation for him to relinquish hold on the terrible creature inside of him that ached for her pleasure, that wanted nothing more than to taste the scent that filled his nose. Aziel fell forward, fingers clawing at the dainty silk straps of her gown until the material fell around the curve of her waist in a brilliant, pink puddle.
He fell forward, releasing a growl the moment she arched against him, his mouth covering the dusky rose-colored peak of her breast. Her fingers wove through his hair, her legs kicking back and forth as he nipped and licked at the sensitive flesh.
With one swift movement, Aziel was on top of her, greedy hands pushing apart her thighs before he settled into the center. He’d never felt this sort of arousal before—one so intense that the metal bars on the underside of his shaft felt as if they were vibrating. He pressed into her, dragging his clothed cock against her. Nymiria’s grip on his hair grew tighter, her legs clenching on either side of him.
His lips trailed wet kisses up her chest, settling at the crook of her neck. It was as if the pulsing vein on the side of her neck emitted her intoxicating scent. He wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into the delicate flesh and feed from the source. He thrusted against her again, eliciting deep and primal moans from both of them.
“Please,” Nymiria begged again. “Kiss me.”
Their lips crashed together in a heated fury. Aziel’s hands moved from her hip to her hair. He drew her closer, each roll of his hips coaxing more and more sweet sounds from her that he swallowed with matching fervor. She moved against him in jerking, uncontrolled movements, nails dragging across the expanse of his shoulders, gripping and tugging at his tunic.
He moved away fast enough to tug the fabric over his head, but Nymiria did not have a single moment to admire the chiseled planes of his torso before he kissed her again. He blindly tugged his gloves off of his hands, letting the bare skin make a map of her heated flesh, moving down, down, down, until his fingers were dipping between the dripping seam of her sex.
He wasted no time in driving his fingers into her, the feeling of her wet warmth making him shudder. Her walls clamped around the appendages, contracting with each pump of his hand. Though it was just enough to ease the throbbing ache between her legs, it was nowhere near what it would have felt like to have his cock inside of her.
Nymiria knew it was dangerous. In this state, given what Dieve had warned, she could easily fall pregnant. And the last thing they needed was that. Even if that sort of future did not seem entirely unappealing at the moment, it would have been selfish. It would have to be enough, but it would never be enough. Not now—seemingly, not ever. Every single nerve-ending in her body tingled, the feeling of his fingers curling against her walls causing a fire to spread through her belly.
She found herself watching him, her eyes wide and lips parted. Just the sight of his fingers sliding in and out of her was enough to send her teetering over that glorious edge.
His other hand found the back of her neck. Nymiria gasped, eyes flickering up to his just enough to see the flash of silver deep in his pupils. “You like watching me, don’t you?” He asked, his voice deep and thick like raw honey. “You like seeing what I do to you, Moonflower?”
His fingers curled against the soft swell of tissue inside of her, coaxing a loud mewling sound from her throat. “Yes,” she panted. “Yes.”
“Tell me this is mine.” His chest rumbled, his body rigid against the pads of her fingers, muscles tense with his control. There was a response somewhere inside of her, but the pleasure outshined everything, blinding her. Nymiria cried out when his fingers pressed harder into that spot, her hand flying to the wrist situated between her legs. “Tell. Me.”
She watched his hand move back and forth, those fingers pressing and curling with each rough thrust. “It’s yours.” She almost sobbed. “Good gods, it is yours.” There was pressure in her stomach, a new sensation that nearly made her jerk away.
