Page 44 of Beds and Blades

I had never been much for dirty talk before. In my old life, I had stayed quiet and composed even in bed, letting my mind run wild while my mouth stayed politely silent. But that was the old Meghan. The old Meghan who stayed in a dead-end relationship for years past its expiration date because leaving required a decision.

I was done with her. I had been done with her since the field.

The new Meghan was going to talk dirty.

My library had an entire subcategory for this. Several, in fact. I had watched enough videos to know exactly what women said in these moments. The specific words, the specific register, the way they looked when they said it.

It turned out the vocabulary was not complicated.

It was just a matter of saying it.

“I want to suck on every veiny inch of your fucking cock,” I said, my voice low.

My eyes never left his—burning, unblinking—as I pumped his massive shaft with both hands, slow and torturously tight. I twisted my wrists on every upstroke, feeling those heavy veins pulse and throb against my palms like they were alive.

“I want to taste how fucking bad you need me,” I whispered.

“Give me your cum,” I said. “I want to feel it flooding my throat. I want to swallow every drop while you watch me take it.”

I leaned closer, lips brushing teasingly against the flushed head as I continued stroking him firmly.

“Give it to me, my High Commander,” I begged, eyes still locked on his. “Flood my throat with your hot cum.”

I held his gaze for one heartbeat longer, then leaned forward and took him back into my mouth, wrapping my lips around the throbbing head and sliding down as far as I could. I sucked him with slow, wet pulls, my tongue swirling along the underside while my hands continued stroking the heavy length.

My fingers soon wandered higher, sliding up over his hips and onto the hard ridges of his abs. I could feel every ripple and cut of muscle flexing and tightening under my palms with each ragged breath he took, the power in his body making my own pulse throb even harder.

His breathing turned rough and uneven.

A low, guttural groan escaped him as his hand slid deeper into my hair. His cock pulsed once, twice, then he came hard. Hot salty spurts flooded my mouth as he throbbed against my tongue.

I moaned around him and swallowed, taking every drop while I kept sucking gently through his release, savoring the salty taste of him until the last tremor faded.

He drew me to my feet.

We stood in front of the fire, both of us naked and breathing hard, the heat of the hearth at my back and the heat of him in front of me.

One arm went beneath my thighs, the other firm across my back, and suddenly the floor was gone.

I made a small, involuntary sound against his shoulder.

He carried me the few steps to the bed, naked against his chest, his hands firm beneath me, and the effortless certainty of it made several parts of me begin preparing for a second engagement.

He laid me down on the sheets and settled beside me, the hearth still roaring warmly beside us, casting flickering gold across our bare skin.

I curled against his side, my hand resting on his muscled chest, fingers gently tracing the hard ridges and the faint scars that marked his body.

His hand covered mine. His thumb moved slowly over my knuckles.

After a long moment, he spoke.

“Before we go further than this, there is something you need to understand.”

Skip looked up at the ceiling and went still as he assembled his thoughts.

“In Mytharo,” he said carefully, “a man should not fully take a woman until she has been claimed. The claiming begins when I give you my ring—the kind given to every man on his eighteenth birthday, consecrated by a mage. When I place it on your finger, the bond opens between us. Present, alive, already transmitting. But it does not seal until I am buried inside you and give you everything. Until you feel me finish, completely, deep inside you. That is the moment Yravel witnesses it. That is the moment it becomes permanent. That is the moment the claiming is consummated. From that moment, I will feel what you feel—your joy, your grief, your desire—and you will feel mine. For the rest of our lives, without end.”

Until you feel me finish, completely, deep inside you.