Page 174
Story: Throne of Air and Darkness
He scraped his thumb over my clit and I exploded. The force of my orgasm sent me back, floating in the water, my eyes hazy with half-sated need. The water was so warm. So deliciously hot. I could lose myself to it. Except that my pussy was still pulsing, still desperate for him.
I let my legs drift down, my toes drag across the bottom of the pool.
Arran hadn’t moved. He was still resting with his back against the wall. But his breathing was ragged. As affected as me.
My feet hit the ground. Instead of stepping toward him, I stepped toward the stairs at the edge. I crooked my finger, and he came.
“What are you up to?” he murmured as I planted my hands on his chest and guided him up and back. Until his muscular ass was firmly seated on the stairs and his entire chest was above the water.
He didn’t shiver, even with the stark difference in temperatures.
I wasn’t sure I could feel temperature at all anymore. I just felt pleasure and need.
I slid my palm up his chest as my mouth dipped lower. The muscles of his abdomen were defined enough for me to catch my teeth on. So I did. I tasted his flesh. I longed to have the sharpened canines of the terrestrials, so I could taste his blood at the same time that I tasted the precum dripping from the end of his cock.
I traced the outline of his muscles with my tongue.
I love you.
I grazed my teeth along the slice of his hip bone that jutted out, trailing down to his magnificent cock.
I love you.
I dug my fingernail into the skin of his chest, savoring his low groan, as I left my own mark atop the talisman that spread across his chest.
I love you.
His cock was still below the hot water. Arran braced a hand on either side of the pool’s edge, holding himself in place. His breathing was so heavy now, each breath he dragged in shaking his chest and making the sprawling tattoo almost seem to come to life. As if the branches were moving, controlled by his power.
Such power, inside that body.
Power that was death.
Power that should scare me.
Instead, it completed me. He completed me.
A whole different need flooded my body. The words I’d held inside of me for weeks. Maybe months. How long had my heart known what the rest of me refused to acknowledge?
Such pain. I’d lived through such pain.
I’d been raped and tortured. I’d seen my brother, the only being I’d ever loved, murdered brutally before my eyes. I’d teetered to the darkness, until my own life seemed forfeit. Worthless.
But I’d pulled myself from that darkness.
And Arran had been the one to reach out his hand.
I didn’t reach for his cock or try to lose myself in him, to spare myself the moment. I set my chin on his chest, our bodies half-submerged, half exposed to the cool night air. The stars glinted overhead, giving just enough light for me to see the outlines of his handsome face.
I dragged my tongue over my lower lip. Caught it between my teeth. And finally felt my face soften as I stared up into his eyes, burning with black flame just for me. Always for me.
“I love you,” I breathed.
Arran’s face didn’t change. No softening of his mouth or flare of black flame in his eyes. He watched me steadily, unflinchingly.
“Finally,” he said, his dark timbre a low rumble I recognized on an instinctual level. Half beast, all male.
My breath caught in my throat, a strangled sound halfway between a laugh and a sob.
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