Page 68 of A Rising Hope (The Freckled Fate #3)

68

ZORA

I leaned against the small alcove hidden in the darkness, watching the relentless rain pour outside the window well. A crackle of bright lightning illuminated the strip of young forest on the horizon. A flash of morbid memory sent a cold shiver down my body.

My fingers reached for the chain at my hip, running up and down the links. A terrible habit, yet one I couldn’t shake as my mind rattled in a cage.

When the war council ended, I was the first one to leave the room. Yet as I marched down the poorly lit corridor, I found myself with nowhere to go.

I had yet to face the Ten. I knew that sooner or later I would have to walk down those winded stairs to the cramped room where Cass lay alongside many others irrevocably wounded. I’d look at their broken faces and their battered bodies and face the truth that I had failed them in more ways than one.

And though I knew that it was imminent, somehow I couldn’t bring myself to do that yet.

I was the worst kind of coward.

One that knew just how deep the rot had gotten and yet I was too much of a weakling to face it.

Whatever bravery I managed to summon was reserved for the one person I had to face before anyone else.

I didn’t look back when I stormed out from the war council room, but I knew Orest had lingered near the door, his cold silver eyes looking for me. I knew that he had waited for me to come back. I knew that he had listened for every step and noise to fade before grimly marching away.

I knew where he stayed. Before the council meeting, I found myself knocking on his door, an indiscreet wooden panel leading to a small dugout closet that he had claimed, no bigger than the cell I had in the cellar, only wide enough to fit a narrow straw mattress. No lights. No windows. It was somber. Solitary. Dark.

Though fear was an emotion carved out of him, he was hesitant around tight spaces. He would never be willing to admit it, but I had engraved in my memories his attempt to hide his flinches as we descended deep into the caves a few years back. The way he nonchalantly walked and kept his voice calm even as his heart pounded against his chest.

And yet he chose the smallest space in the building to rest.

He wanted to suffer.

He wanted to feel the horror clawing at his mind each night. There was comfort to him in chaos. After all, terror was the only memory he kept. His faithful companion, his only family, and his saving grace. Terror. And wild rage.

A little streak of water ran down the wall, puddling by my boots. I stared at the muddied water.

A part of me wasn’t sure what I would say to Orest.

I knew words meant nothing, and yet words were all I had.

I was no one and I had nothing.

Broken beyond repair.

But as I waited by his room, hoping his door would open, I knew that even if he wouldn’t speak another word to me for the rest of my life, I would stay alive. I would fight the fucking battle every day. I would fight the odds that were stacked against me with every fucking breath. Because somewhere, wherever he would be, as terror would lull him to sleep, he would know that I would be alive.

And I would be alive because of him.

For him.

And though I knew there was no redemption for me, a part of me so selfishly yearned to feel his deep velvety voice against my ear just one more time, to feel his all-encompassing presence near me.

“Missing the darkness of the cellar already?” Orest’s low voice startled me. I turned to see him at the top of the staircase landing, his silhouette outlined by the shadows, his face hidden beyond.

“Orest . . . ” My voice broke and suddenly my thoughts drew up empty.

He moved, his steps stealthy and rapid.

“Shhh . . . ” He hushed me, his body prowling above mine, and I took a step back as he moved closer, my back pushed against the wall.

“I . . . ” I opened my mouth, looking for the right words. To tell him how sorry I was. How much I regretted everything. How I knew I deserved none of his forgiveness and I didn’t expect it. How I was grateful for him to exist, to know him. How I knew I fucked up in more ways than one. How I found myself caring for him and how I lied to myself that I didn’t. How I wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened that my feelings for him crossed the line from friendship into craving him in ways that were overwhelming and infatuating.

“Orest, I—” But his forefinger brushed my lips, making me go silent as he dragged it down slowly. His eyes were fixed on my lips as he watched his finger slide, savoring each moment, each touch. My belly ached and breaths turned jagged as he jerked my chin up until my eyes locked with his. His sharp silver gaze flickered with dangerous desire.

“Did you mean what you said to me, Zora?” he purred against my ear; his deep voice reached me far beyond my core. “In the battle, when you said you loved me, were your words true?” he asked again, meeting my amorous look.

“Yes.” I swallowed hard, mouth turning dry as heat pooled at my center. “I meant every fucking word. I love you, Orest, and what happened?—”

But my words were lost as his lips found mine. His arms wrapped around me pulling me flush against his body in a tight embrace. His kiss was nothing of the sweet and caring caresses. No, it was wild, full of love that burned, a lover’s kiss spiced with undiluted rage. His tongue intertwined with mine as he titled my head further back.

Whatever restraints I had, snapped, and I killed the last voice of reason within me as I let myself dive into the ocean of desire that I hoarded just for him, from the first moment I felt that lightning-like strike as his hand brushed against mine a couple of years ago. My belly ached from need, craving to feel him, craving to touch him, to taste him.

His teeth scraped my lip, biting it. His eyes found mine, insatiable urge burning bright in them.

“I fucking need you Orest,” I murmured between the frantic breaths lost to kissing him.

I’d beg. I’d crawl on my knees for him.

He didn’t reply, his eyes darted to the bottom of the stairs where a set of steps creaked. Without a word, he jerked my body away from the wall, pulling me by my hand down the arched corridor, and I followed without glancing back.

He found a small bedroom just two doors down. The air in the room was muggy. The old ceiling leaked water onto the crammed piles of discarded furnishings.

He yanked one of the chairs near us, bracing it against the door.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room through the curtainless window. Orest’s eyes darkened, seeing my heated gaze fall upon him. Another flash of lightning and I stumbled back against the wall lost in his embrace.

My lips met his in starved, deprived grazes, as if it was millennia of passion and lust preserved for this precise moment. As if our souls recognized each other from the worlds beyond, finally relieved to be reunited.

His large hand clasped the back of my neck, angling it better, as his other hand grabbed my thigh, hooking my right leg around his hip as he ground hard into me. A loud moan escaped my mouth, and he pressed his hand against my lips, stifling it as steps sounded outside.

But I didn’t care. All my thoughts were lost to one as my brain registered the sheer girth and length of him pressed into me. I had to taste him. I had to lick every single fucking inch of him or otherwise I’d die.

I pushed against his hold, no longer able to resist the ravenous hunger. He let go, his brow furrowed until I dropped to my knees before him, impatiently ripping at the ties of his pants.

“Zora.” His hand caught mine just as I was about to tug on the last tie, his eyes locked with mine.

“If you give me nothing else, Orest, this is what I fucking want. Please ,” I begged on my knees, choking on the saliva that pooled at the tip of my tongue ready to be wrapped around him. Just a fucking taste and I would explode.

“It’s not that.” He paused, and it was that slight flash of apprehension on his face that quickly sobered me from my drunken desire.

“Oh,” I managed to say as I realized what that look on his face meant. “I thought you had been with a women before.”

He slowly shook his head.

“There was never anyone for me but you, Zora.”

“We can take this slow.” I swallowed hard, my hand frozen midair as he held my wrist. “It’s okay.” I chewed on my lip, lost between the absolute feral desire eating me alive and even more intense feeling that overtook me at his confession. I tried to stand back up.

“Get on your fucking knees, Zora.” Orest shoved my head back down. “I said nothing about taking things slow.” He placed my hand at the mid of his pants, letting me feel his swollen cock, making me grip him tight as he slid my hand up his length. My knees quivered with need, body aching and hot. “Take off your shirt first. I want to see your perfect tits bounce as you choke on me,” he ordered, his tone demanding, assertive. I eagerly obliged, hastily untying the leathery armor off my top as he watched me undress until the last item was on the floor next to my knees. Stormy moonlight illuminated my bare skin covered with goosebumps.

I glanced up at him—a silent ask—he gave a consenting nod, setting me free.

With one motion I jerked his pants down, exposing his pulsating cock to my lust driven craze.

He was the biggest man I had ever seen, and I’d seen quite a few. But not only that, the sheer thickness of it . . . I found myself simultaneously drenched in heat and terror at the overall size of it.

But it was the number of raised scars covering his upper thighs that made my heart skip a beat. Some were healed and faded, some of them fresher. But all of them were deep carvings of my name. There wasn’t a single spot on his upper leg that was not touched by the knife.

“Orest—” He noticed my timid gaze lingering on his scars.

“Your name was carved in my heart and soul long before I carved it on my body.”

I swallowed hard, kissing every scar one by one, slowly, meaningfully. My nose trailed a path for my lips to follow as I made my way to his front until my lips found his throbbing cock.

“You are fucking huge,” I found myself mumbling between the slow licks that I trailed from down his shaft to the very tip. Taunting him with kisses as I tried to wrap my mind around how he would fit inside me.

“And you will fucking take it all, Zora.” His eyes darkened with a demand, one that made me worship him. My mouth wrapped around him, tongue trailing up and down. Stifled moans escaped my lips at the taste. Devine. Addictive. The best kind of drug to ever exist. I’d stay on my knees until they’d fucking bleed as long as his cock stayed in my mouth.

I worked harder, long gone were the careful taunting caresses.

“Touch yourself, Zora,” he directed, as his length settled deep in my throat. I nodded, obeying. I’d obey every command he’d utter. My body, my mind, my soul was his to command. The seam of my pants was already undone, and he watched as my hand slid down to my core. A pleasant jolt ran through my body at the light friction of my fingers.

He jerked the spikes out of my hair, letting it fall free, his fingers sunk into my hair, wrapping my freed strands around his hand as he held me, watching me attempt to take him fully. At first slowly, then faster, craving every single inch of him. My fingers matched the strokes as I sucked him harder. My jaw was sore, but I needed more.

He groaned in pleasure, yanking my head back as he pulled out.

“I want more,” I begged.

“Against the fucking wall, Zora. Now ,” he grumbled, jerking my body upright. He ripped my pants all the way down, leaving me completely bare. His large body pinned mine from behind against the brick. He placed both of my hands above my head, trailing a line of kisses from my wrist down to my shoulder, then to my neck until he reached my jaw. His hand jerked my chin, twisting my head to him until his lips found mine, his tongue plummeting deep, making me forget my name at his touch. His other hand traveled from the gentle hold on my neck down to my chest. At first cupping my breasts, hungrily, viciously, then his fingers scraped down the line on my stomach until he reached my lowest point. A begging moan escaped my lips as his hand brushed past my core, grabbing my thigh instead. His fingers trailed dripping wet on my legs, content to see me tremble for more. He jerked my thighs apart then, placing his cock in between them. The tip of him reached high on my pubic bone. I ground against him, fully drenched, desperately needing to feel his length inside me.

Our left hands clasped together above, our fingers intertwined. His other hand followed between my breasts to my throat. His fingers outlining my jagged breaths.

“A word, Zora,” he murmured against my ear, his teeth scraping my neck.

“Yes. Fucking thousand times yes ,” I managed to utter, knowing that this was the most confident yes in my entire life.

He didn’t reply, positioning his tip just at my entrance and with one smooth motion he plummeted deep within. A loud moan, wild and animalistic, escaped my mouth as my whole body reveled in the intense shock at the feel of him inside of me.

“A moment,” I uttered, and he listened, stopping.

Pain and pleasure intertwined together as I adjusted, finding a comfortable spot. I gave him a look, asking to continue.

“That’s just the first half, Zora,” he murmured into my ear, his voice reaching me to my marrow, making every piece of me cry out in surrender, completely at his mercy.

“Fuck,” I groaned in pleasure as he moved once more, slow and careful. A part of me didn’t know if my body was capable of taking him fully. He froze, waiting for my approval. I moved my hips, adjusting. “Gods,” I cried out, discovering a new meaning of pleasure pushed far beyond anything I had known before as I felt him inside me.

A guttural, primal chuckle echoed near my ear. That sound alone would push me over the edge. But he waited. I gave him another confirming nod.

He moved once then twice, each time deeper, stronger. His hands holding me tight as he thrusted fully into me again and again, finding a steady rhythm. His hand pinned both of my wrist above me as he fucked me. My mind lost in pleasure, letting him take control of my body completely.

His other hand moved from my hip down to my dripping core until he seized me entirely, grabbing me tight.

“This tight little pussy is all mine,” he whispered into my ear, his jagged breaths sending goosebumps down my skin. “I’ll fucking do what I want with it,” he added, and I knew then, he was my complete undoing. He rubbed me slowly at first, then faster, matching tempo with the plunging strokes of his cock. My body quivered under his touch, muscles feeling limp and powerless against his demand for my pleasure. He fucked me harder, making my knees buckle as his full hand was put to work. He was a composer, and I was his muse.

“I want you to fucking explode, Zora,” he growled near my ear imperiously. And I submitted. My body shuddered as waves of the purest ecstasy rolled through me, at first one wave then another. I would’ve fallen had it not been for his body pinning me tight as my muscles went limp as another orgasmic wave rolled through me as he pinched the tip of my nipples, still possessively gripping my most sensitive part. I no longer cared if my moans woke the whole damn mansion. His touch killed and resurrected me at the same time.

“That’s right,” he whispered into my ear. “You will always do what I say, won’t you?” And if I could, I would have answered, but my mind forgot how to speak. He gently pulled my hair, meeting my gaze. “Say yes, Zora.”

“Yes,” I murmured between heated breaths as I found his silver eyes, ready to forget my name.

“Good.” But before I could summon even an ounce of energy to say anything else, he twisted me around, placing me on top of a long credenza. My back felt the wet wooden surface underneath. A few drops of rain fell from the ceiling onto my chest, slithering to my throat. Orest lowered to me, licking them off. A single reprieve to catch my breath before he yanked my hips to the edge of the table and then plummeted deep into me.

“Watch how I fuck you, Zora. Watch how I ravish you.” His fingers brushed past the swollen, sensitive part of me in a lazy circle, earning a jagged moan. “There isn’t a fucking inch of your body that isn’t mine to take.” His jagged voice tickled my heated skin like a feather.

He wanted me to watch, so I did. I devoured every angle of his body as he fucked me, burying every inch of his vast cock deep into me. I spread my legs wide for him as he plummeted deeper, his hands pinning my thighs first, then moving up to my breasts, grabbing both of them until release found him. His head full of curls plastered onto my chest as his body shuddered. His stifled groan accompanied by the loud thunder behind the window.

I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close against my heart, my hands buried into the loose strands of his hair.

Only here with him the constant turmoil of thoughts that I battled completely surrendered and an unshakable calm and peace had won over the years of worry.