Page 47 of A Storm of Fire and Ash

My back slammed against the wall, next to the window where the snow fell. Zayn pressed his hard length against my body as he grabbed my throat, a wicked smile pulled across his lips. He traced my lip with his finger and I opened my mouth and sucked.

“Gods, Elara.” He pressed himself into me harder with a deep groan, and lifted me so my back was against the wall and my legs wrapped around him.

I wasn’t wearing anything underneath this dress since he shredded my panties, so I rubbed myself against him, as if the fabric of his trousers would incinerate with my thrusts.

Zayn’s mouth found my neck. “How wet is this pussy for me?” He asked, his voice reverberated off my skin.

“Fucking soaked. Please.” I begged.

His tongue trailed down to my collarbone. He bit me, marked me, and it drove something feral inside of me.

I clung to him like fabric, not wanting to move from this wall. I just wanted him to take me, right here. Right now.

Zayn stopped marking me and he set me down. He took a step back so he could drink me in.

I pouted, “Come back.”

“Those pouty lips… gods. You are a fucking vision.”

“I recalled you wanted to shut these pouty lips up…” I slowly started to walk towards him. “Perhaps it’s time I show you how much of a good girl I can be.”

His knees buckled. His jaw tight, lips parted, chest rising and falling too quickly for someone pretending to be composed. “You like to be told what to do, don’t you?”

I bit my lower lip. “You’re looking at me like that again,” I whispered.

His emerald eyes burned, dark and hungry. “Like what?”

“Like you want to ruin me.”

Zayn stalked toward me, voice low and dangerous. “That’s because I do.”

His mouth crashed against mine. The kiss was fire and lightning, his hands griped my hips as if he were afraid I’d disappear. I tangled my fingers into his hair and kissed him deeper, our magic crackled between our bodies like a storm barely contained.

I pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips. “I want to see you.”

“You do see me,” he growled, breath heavy.

“No,” I said, stepping back. With a blink, I let my glamour drop.

The illusion around me faded, and my Fae form shimmered into view—a glow bloomed across my skin like moonfire.

My hair fell in golden waves down my back, and I felt my magic under the surface of my skin.

My senses sharpened instantly—the room grew clearer, sharper.

I could see the tiniest crack in the stone wall, the dust motes suspended midair.

And Zayn—gods—Zayn—he smelled like storm winds and frost-kissed pines, like power barely leashed.

That scent curled into my lungs and stirred something primal in me.

Every part of my body called to him.

My magic rose to the surface, warm and electric, dancing over my skin like it wanted to reach for him, to close the space between us again.

Zayn sucked in a breath like I’d stolen the air from his lungs. He dropped to his knees. “Holy gods…” he whispered. “Elara…”

He was transfixed, eyes tracing every inch of me like I was the first and last star he’d ever see. His fingers reached for the hem of my dress but stopped, shaking. “You’re not real,” he murmured, voice thick. “You can’t be real.”

“I am. And I want all of you,” I said, gently lifting his chin. “Drop your glamour, Zayn.”

His expression darkened. “No.”

“Why not?”

He stood suddenly, and I pushed him back towards his bed, hands flat on his chest. “Tell me.”

“Because,” he growled, “if I do, I will kill any fucking man who dares to touch you. You don’t understand the gravity of what we are… of what will happen… there will be no going back. No more men. It will be you and me. Forever. You don’t understand what that means, Elara.”

“Then make me understand.”

He shook his head, eyes closed. “Your influence on me… it’s too strong. If I drop it now, I won’t be able to stop myself.”

I smirked and leaned up, brushing my lips against his throat. “That’s kind of the point.”

“Elara—”

I didn’t let him finish. I slid my hands down his chest, fingers teasing the hem of his tunic, and slowly pulled it upward. His breath hitched as my touch slid across his skin. “Drop it,” I whispered again.

“Stop,” he warned, voice low and strained.

But I didn’t. I kissed his jaw, his neck, the line of his collarbone. Then I pulled my dress off my arms slowly and let the fabric pool at my feet.

Zayn cursed and stepped back. He closed his eyes. “Ten.”

I blinked. “What are you doing?”

“Counting,” he gritted. “Because if I get to one, and you’re still standing in front of me like that, I’m going to lose every last bit of control I’ve been clinging to.”

“I’m not going anywhere, open your eyes,” I said.

“Nine.”

I stepped closer and licked his collarbone up to his neck. “I want you.”

“Eight. Elara—”

I undid his trousers.

“Seven.”

My fingers brushed along his abdomen and then teased his waistband.

“Six,” he sucked in a breath of air.

“Five…”

“Drop. Your. Shield.” I said as I reached my hand down his pants. And holy shit.

I grasped his hard, very large cock and moved my hand up and down. He inhaled sharply, his eyes flying open. I let his trousers fall to the ground completely and had to take a step back. I drank him in like water. “Gods, you are perfect. Please, Zayn. Fuck me. Drop your glamour. Be with me.”

“Four.” He said through his teeth.

My lips brushed his. “You have all of me, Zayn. Now give me all of you. I’m not afraid.”

“Three…”

“I want you to touch me. Claim me in your Fae form.”

“Two.” He shut his eyes tightly. His jaw ticked as I ran my tongue along it. I grabbed his hand and made him grab my throat.

Magic flared between us, so hot I could taste it.

“One.”

His eyes shot open. A growl tore through his chest. Any self-restraint he had was now thrown out the window.

And then the glamour shattered.

A sudden wind blew through the room as his true form burst into reality—his back tattoos glowed across his bronze skin, his ears pointed, his eyes burning with something wild and ancient.

His canines sharpened. Inky black shadow flared from his back and down his arms, and the air around him bent with power.

Our magic collided, spiraling in ribbons of fire, air, earth, and water around us like a living storm.

Thunder cracked outside the castle, lightning flashed through the snow beyond the windows.

And then something happened.

I felt it—like a thread pulled taut in the core of my soul. Then, slowly, it wove into another. His. It was as if our spirits stitched themselves together in a silent vow. A binding. A promise.

My body arched, magic rushed through me like a tidal wave.

I gasped, gripping his shoulders as warmth burst open in my chest and rippled outward, claiming every part of me.

I was becoming something more. Something complete.

My canines lengthened—just a touch—but not like a Vampyr’s. No, this was different. This was Fae.

Then came the explosion.

Magic burst from my spine, tearing outward with heat and light, and I screamed—not in pain, but power. A storm of flame and silver-blue fire made of pure magic—went from my shoulders and down to my arms and then scattered along the floor towards Zayn’s inky shadows—weightless and wild.

Zayn stared at me like I was a goddess made flesh. I took one trembling step forward, and our magic moved with us, brushing—melding. Smoke and fire danced together behind us as if they too had found their match.

I reached out, cupping his face. The awe in his expression shattered whatever restraint he had left. He leaned into my touch like he’d been starved of it for centuries.

His voice was hoarse. Reverent. “I’ve never seen anything more fucking beautiful in my life.”

I smiled, breathless. “I think we just bound ourselves.”

He smirked, his voice dipping low and rough, every word dragging across my skin like velvet and fire. “You think I was obsessed with you before?” he said, stepping in close, hand gripping my hip. “Peach, I’m ruined now. Feral. You’ve just made me yours.”

Zayn threw up an air shield around the room just as our magic exploded—gold and emerald flames swirling with silver sparks.

The walls shook. The mirror shattered. The armoire exploded, sending clothes everywhere.

He gripped my waist and hauled me against him, bringing his mouth to mine in a kiss that was desperation and possession all in one.

We weren’t just kissing. We were claiming.

His powerful chest heaved rhythmically, each rise and fall mirroring my own, as if we just became one.

I suddenly couldn’t get enough. I became addicted to touching, licking, feeling every single part of his body.

I pushed him against the wall, grabbed his jaw tightly, and traced my tongue over his throat, then down to his chest. I fell to my knees and gripped his very large, very erect cock, and then brought my mouth to him.

I looked up and saw fire in his eyes as I dragged my tongue across the precum that pearled at his tip.

“Gods help me.”

I put him in my mouth, his skin tasting heavenly, and I began to suck and tease. I took him as far as I could until he was practically down my throat, and grabbed the rest of his length with my hand. I worked him, wanting him to feel good. Wanting to bathe myself in his pleasure.

“Fuck, baby. That feels good.” He moaned and grabbed the back of my head. Before I could pull away and bring my head back down again, he pulled me into his arms, and I felt everything—his heat, his hunger, the call of fate binding itself around our bodies—around our hearts. He tossed me on the bed.

“Let’s solidify this bond, shall we?”

He crawled on top of me and kissed me passionately again. His large hands cupped both my breasts. “You are perfect,” he grumbled and then slid his hands from my breasts down my stomach and then behind me. He squeezed my ass hard and then flipped me so I was on all fours.