Page 45 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile (Compelling Fates Saga #3)

Merrick

H e didn’t know four little words would just about kill him.

But hearing Lessia ask “Can I have them?” was as excruciating as when he’d once been captured and tortured for weeks by enemy Fae.

Having to watch the rest of her conversation with Evrene play out… no, it was a pain he wouldn’t wish even on Rioner.

Lessia’s warm body clung to his, and he held her closer, trying to push down the rage at the gods for what they’d done to her. For what they continued to do to her.

The violent trembles running through her had calmed a while ago, but she’d still gripped his jacket so tightly he hadn’t dared move, not even to try to study her face, try to see if this was what would finally break her.

His pulse thrummed over his skin, and he knew Lessia could sense it as she glanced up at him, a wrinkle of worry forming over her brows.

Leaning down, Merrick kissed that wrinkle, then moved to press his lips against hers.

Only once, but he couldn’t stand not touching her.

Not after today. Not after everything.

As he pulled back, Lessia began whispering, “I am s?—”

He didn’t stop the rage this time as he placed a finger over her lips. “No.”

Her beautiful eyes widened at his command.

“You do not apologize.” Merrick wished he could say he was calm, but he was anything but as he continued. “It’s them who should apologize. It’s them who should fucking crawl at your feet, begging for your forgiveness.”

Merrick lifted his chin, fixing his eyes on the reflection of the two of them in the ceiling.

“Do you hear me?” he screamed, his vision going in and out from fury. “You should fucking apologize, and when the time comes… I am going to fucking make you! I am going to make each and every one of you kneel before her like the queen she is!”

He knew that if he’d had magic right now, the souls would race unchecked through the room—searching for the gods he knew they also hated, for reasons he hadn’t understood before but that were becoming clearer to him by the second.

“Merrick,” Lessia urged. “Merrick, be careful.”

“Why?” He flung his gaze down to Lessia again. “What else can they do to us now? What else can they threaten us with?”

She stared back at him, her eyes darkening and some of that defiance he fucking loved shifting her features into the Lessia he knew would fight until her last breath.

His little fighter.

A loud silence enveloped them as they watched each other, and Merrick could barely believe his eyes as his mate seemed to sharpen with every second, not an ounce of the sorrow flickering in her hard gaze.

“You’re right,” she said simply, her eyes burning into his. “You’re right.”

He was. And he was going to fucking save her. Now that he knew there was a chance, he would make sure he stayed beside her every damned step of the way, even if it would drive her crazy.

He’d fucking kill the gods if that’s what it took. Make each of them pay in blood for the pain they’d caused her.

“I know I’m right,” Merrick rasped as he bent down to claim her lips again, continuing to speak against them when he came up for air. “Fuck them, Lessia. Fuck fate. Fuck this place. Let’s get those wyverns, go to war, kill the king, and fucking win.”

She kissed him. Kissed him with a feverish urgency that told him she would fight to the end, even if what he’d just said was unlikely to happen, and he couldn’t help but groan when his body responded to it, his cock already awakening when she dragged her nails down the back of his neck.

“Here?” Merrick mumbled as she began undressing, her fingers not hesitating as they unbuttoned the jacket he’d given her a few days ago.

“Let them watch.” Lessia lifted her chin, her eyes sparkling as she dragged a finger along his neckline. “Let them see they can’t break me. Let them see I am not scared anymore. Let them see I won’t bow to them and their fucking curse.”

Fuck. He’d never loved her as much as he did now.

She was a damned goddess.

A goddess who began undressing slowly, seductively, in a way that had his jaw slacken and only allowed him to remain still and watch.

Her tunic dropped first, her perfect breasts reflecting all around him, the nipples drawing in and hardening as he dragged his gaze over them.

After undoing her boots, one at a time, she slowly slid her breeches down until she stood before him only in her silky undergarments, soft skin on full display and head still lifted high, her beautiful golden-brown hair tumbling down her straight back.

The carvings of his name on her body and the traitor mark sweeping across her arm only made her more magnificent.

She was real. She was real and she was here and she was his.

Merrick nearly lost it when he caught the damp spot on the white fabric between her legs.

She was already wet, and he could fucking smell it.

His cock twitched again, more painfully now, but he ignored it, unwilling to speed this up a second more than he had to.

“Is that for me?” he asked roughly.

Lessia smiled as she dragged a hand down her front, squeezing a breast before sliding it down to her stomach and hovering right above the waistline of the delicate piece of clothing.

“Of course it’s for you,” she whispered. “I’m yours, Merrick. I’m always yours.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, committing that sentence to memory.

I’m yours, Merrick.

He fucking loved it when she said his name.

She never did it in fear, like most others, but emphasized each letter, taking care to pronounce it with all the love he could feel rolling off her.

Even during the election, she’d pronounced it differently, at least when she’d stopped calling him death boy .

It hadn’t been with love then, but some kind of mutual respect—one he hadn’t heard in connection with this name since he was young.

“You are mine,” he echoed, his voice rough. “You will always be mine as I will always be yours. As I always have been.”

She smiled wider. “What do you want me to do?”

He must have frowned because she continued. “I told you I’d do anything for you. What would you want me to do?”

Merrick groaned.

He was so fucking lucky. So undeserving of this beautiful, selfless, loving creature.

He promised himself again to give her all the wishes she carved onto his skin. He was going to take care of her—love her—if it was the last fucking thing he did in this realm.

“Come here.” Merrick reached out a hand. “Let me make you feel good.”

He would have died to watch her touch herself, see what she did to make herself utter the noises he dreamed of every night, but he couldn’t ask it.

Not now, not when every bone and nerve and part of his soul craved to protect her—care for her.

She did enough fighting alone. This was his responsibility.

And he’d enjoy every damned second of it.

Lessia slowly approached him, and if his eyes could have, they would have eaten her up. He let them slide over her long legs, over her undergarments where the wet spot had grown, over her hip bones and stomach, savoring her full breasts and then moving to her beautiful face.

“You are fucking perfect.” Merrick reached out a hand and touched her cheek when she stilled before him. “Every inch of you is perfect. You’re the goddess, Lessia. Not them. No one else but you.”

He believed it. This golden-dipped female was not of this world. She couldn’t be, not when all this world was pain and cruelty and she was kindness and light and perfection.

She didn’t shy away from his roving eyes.

Her chin only lifted higher, her lips curling a little bit more, and Merrick didn’t bite down on the grin spreading across his face.

“Good girl,” he rasped, so damned proud of her, and just a bit proud of himself to see her believe his words.

Lessia’s eyes heated as she stared back at him, and he smiled wider as he dropped to his knees before her.

The shiver jerking her body was everything he wanted to see.

“You like this?” He tilted his head upward, watching as her cheeks colored.

Merrick’s low laugh rumbled through the room. “Of course you do. My little fighter likes her man on his knees before her. Likes to see him serve her like the goddess she is.”

She actually moaned, and he hadn’t even touched her.

“Yes,” Merrick continued, feeling his balls tighten when he could smell her responding to his words.

“Do you want to hear that I’d do anything for you?

Do you want to hear that I’m going to fuck you in this place, making the gods of our world watch as I please you, as I submit to your every command? ”

Lessia squirmed before him, and he had to clench his hands not to touch her.

Not yet.

“I am going to fuck you until you’re screaming my name so loudly these fucking mirrors threaten to break. But first…” Merrick fixed his eyes on her beautiful pussy hidden by the white silk. “First, I am going to taste you. I am going to commit every swirl of your pussy to memory.”

“Please, Merrick,” she whimpered, and it was all he needed to hear.

“You don’t need to beg. Never for me.” Merrick didn’t let her respond as he pressed her thighs wide, making sure she stood steady before he trailed a finger down her stomach, hovering right above the white silk.

“I want to rip these apart,” Merrick growled. “They’re in my way.”

He hooked his finger under her panty line, pulling it out and letting it snap back, eliciting another cry from Lessia.

Those fucking sounds made him nearly spill right into his trousers.

“Maybe I should,” Merrick mused when Lessia squirmed again, trying to press her legs together for some release, although she didn’t fight him too much when he refused her.

“I like the idea of you walking around without them. Knowing that I can slip my hand down at any moment and touch the pussy that’s always wet for me. ”

“Merrick,” she whined.

“But I won’t. At least not today.”