Page 10

CHAPTER TEN

T heir kiss was a battle in itself. Rough and scalding. Addictive. The nightmare still clung to her, the memory of Eosantha still clung to her, and saints it felt good to give into the tension that had built since Jaro said he believed Bryon was hers. The sigh that slipped free did not have her permission. But she needed this, needed something that felt good even if for a minute.

She was selfish, she was using him, but as broad fingers drove into her hair, angling her face so he could kiss deeper, a little rumble of noise in the back of his throat, she knew Bryon was using her too. He was her mate. The people who mattered knew that and would forgive her this. If they were even still alive.

The thought made her flinch, and she grabbed Bryon’s shoulders in a fierce grip as if that desperate touch could kill the thought. His response was to take hold of her hips and drag her onto his lap, her legs falling naturally around his. Fuck, he was warm, his body heat as comforting as his voice had been when it broke through her dream.

But his wasn’t the only voice she’d heard. Was she going mad? Hallucinating what she needed to survive?

“Is this even happening?” she breathed against his lips without meaning to.

“If anyone asks, no it’s not,” Bryon muttered, making her laugh.

“Ah, delusion. I’m well familiar with that technique.”

“Too much talking,” he growled and surged forward to claim her mouth again, his kiss compelling and deep, overwhelming her with the scent of cedar and rosemary until she could taste it. As rough as his kisses were, his hands were nothing but gentle in their care, one drifting up her back to gather her hair into a loose fist, the other splaying across her lower back, pressing their bodies together as he conquered her mouth. It was a siege, and her tongue surrendered.

When he closed his sharp fangs around her bottom lip, Maia’s entire body flashed hot. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, surrendering to the comfort however brief. She didn’t mean to roll her hips but fuck did it feel amazing. The second time was intentional. Bryon was as hard as a rock for her and that was a powerful thing. She kissed him harder, a low noise in her chest when their fangs grazed in a slow caress, her tongue sucked into his mouth. She felt that mouth between her thighs, felt its impact on her clit.

Just one time, she told herself as her hands wandered up the back of his strong neck, pressing imprints of her fingers into his skin. “More,” she panted.

“More,” he agreed.

His mouth dragged down her jaw, sharp canines skimming her throat as he paused there to suck on a delicate part of her neck. She had to bite her own lip at how good it felt, her eyes heavy lidded.

“If you want more, you’ll have to take these off,” he muttered, tugging on the waistband of her trousers. The same ones she’d worn to Eosantha. Dirty and disgusting. But he was dirty and disgusting too, so she tried not to feel self-conscious even as she longed for that morning when Az and Ark helped her clean and dress herself. Fuck, she missed them, and Bryon might have worked wonders with that mouth of his, but even he couldn’t erase that.

This was madness and desperation and a good helping of poor judgement, but she didn’t care. She needed this, needed one good thing in her life before Enryr came back and forced her to rip apart the minds of thousands more.

“If you have a pencil dick,” she breathed as his teeth grazed her neck a little deeper, “I will thoroughly kill you, Bryon Erithian.”

He snorted. “My life is in no danger.”

It was more difficult than she expected to pull away from his hands and teeth, to shove her trousers down her legs and throw them across the floor. She made sure they didn’t turn inside out; the floor was filthy and she’d prefer to keep the dirt on the outside. Not that the sweat on the inside was much better. Bryon was mad for wanting her right now. Truly certifiable.

“Get back over here, princess,” he said with a gravelly softness that sent a shiver up her spine, tingling the back of her neck. The way he was looking at her… wildfires had been started with less heat.

He knelt on the floor like he was caught in prayer, and there was certainly something sacred about the way he stroked his cock. Well, he definitely hadn’t needed to fear for his life. Maybe Maia should fear for her pussy, instead.

“It will fit,” he said, reading her look so accurately it scared her.

“Don’t be so cocky,” she huffed, climbing back on him, her eyes fluttering at the slow, reverent touch he stroked from her knee to her hip. Her eyes screwed shut. It felt too good to be touched after being tortured in her sleep, after being locked up, separated from the men she loved. She wanted them all here, and it hurt.

“Eyes on me, princess.” The gravel in his voice was like a caress to her senses, the same way his touch was to her skin. “Don’t disappear on me.”

“Easier said than done,” she muttered.

“I know,” he said simply.

That was the thing she hated about Bryon most of all: he understood her on a level she didn’t even know herself. Or maybe she hated that she wanted him, and it was thoroughly one-sided. If they weren’t locked up with no other prospects, this wouldn’t be happening. She would have dwelled on that longer, tortured herself with it, but Bryon’s hand found her hip and the head of his cock stroked a slow line through her pussy. If she’d thought he was the blunt force sort of lover who fucked hard and couldn’t locate the clit, he proved her wrong with every circle he made around that swollen bud with his tip.

She’d expected the same roughness and ferocity of his kisses, but he was slow, patient in a way that had her trembling, slicking his cock with liquid desire. Every pass of his cock erased the torturous thoughts from her mind, one by one, until all she could focus on was him and her greed and how damn good it felt.

“This goddamn hair,” he groaned, letting strands fall through his fingers, wrapping a lock around his hand until her scalp tingled, heightening her need.

She was out of control and self-conscious with how one-sided this need was. She didn’t doubt he wanted to be inside her, but he didn’t want her. That was why she gave him a fanged smirk and asked, “Jealous, baldy?”

Eyes the shade of the darkness between trees narrowed. “Are you trying to provoke me, princess?”

She wanted her control back, but sure. Provoking him worked, too. His cock glided from her throbbing clit, so, so slowly teasing her until every last part of her was tingling and swollen with need. It didn’t matter that they were in a cell and it was freezing and every now and then she could hear screams through the night that drove her wild with fear. Desire erased all of that, and suddenly she could breathe easier. Air filled her lungs, strength suffusing her cells until she felt awake. Alive.

“Hands on my shoulders. Squeeze if you need to,” he said, driving her to a new level of madness. His eyes were dark, focused in a way that made her heart quicken. He saw far too much. He saw everything.

“Oh shit,” Maia hissed, taking his advice and strangling the blood from his shoulders when he eased inside. If she hadn’t been so wet, it would have been a struggle. Who was she kidding, it was a fucking struggle even with her soaked. “Nice to know—you’re proportionate—all over.”

“You won’t be able to use that smart mouth for long, princess,” he groaned, one hand on her hip, guiding her in small, slow thrusts, the other buried in her hair. “You’ll forget how.”

Big words, she wanted to tease him, but he hauled her mouth back to his and she lost herself in his kisses. There was a feral edge to his kiss now, and she matched him with a desperation she couldn’t control, both of them messy and rough even as their bodies came together with aching slowness.

“Faster,” she groaned against his swollen bottom lip.

“Patience,” he grunted, the hand on her hip moving to her ass and squeezing.

“Stop being chivalrous and trying to spare me pain. Move faster.” She didn’t care if it hurt, or maybe she wanted it to. Maybe she wanted it punishing and rough. But it wasn’t. Even when Bryon groaned and guided her in faster thrusts, until she was riding him, there was a level of care that made her vulnerable. She didn’t have shields against this kind of sex. Wasn’t sure she’d have pushed so far if she’d known.

Bryon was going to ruin her, and she couldn’t stop it any more than she could stop a storm.

“Saints,” he grunted, releasing her hair so he could squeeze her ass with both hands, his palms so hot and broad they covered most of her, equally reassuring and tantalising. “Why do you want to be hurt so badly?”

“Shut up,” she snarled, digging her nails into his shoulders, fighting to ride him faster.

He swore under his breath, his control snapping. Ready for brutality, Maia’s chest caved in when both arms wound around her back and he rolled his hips up into her, crushing her against his chest as he fucked her with a tenderness that killed her. He was a gentleman, despite his snarling personality and his perpetual scowl. He was gentle and considerate, attentive to every angle that made her breath catch, to every little thing that made her groan or gasp. And fuck, his arms around her… Maia buried her face in his shoulder and shuddered as he bounced her on his cock, slow and deep and ruinous.

“Bryon,” she choked out like a curse.

“I know,” he groaned, arms tightening until there wasn’t even a scrap of space between them. “I feel you there.”

She began to shake, unwanted tears pricking her eyes. “Fuck, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. I’ve got you. Let go.”

Her fangs ached inside her mouth, greedy to bite him. She suppressed the urge and focused on how insane he felt inside her, the stretch, the slow glide, the way he’d found her weakness and now hit that spot on every damned thrust. This was supposed to be hot and dirty, but it cracked open her ribs, carved a space in her heart, and crawled inside.

His next thrusts were faster, his desperation clear in the way his hands tightened on her, the sudden rasp of his breathing. Hearing him close, hearing the effect she had on him, made her hips jerk. She chased her orgasm with single-minded desperation, her hips churning, desperation in every thrust, breaths catching. She came so hard it surprised her, the tenderness in his handling making her release so explosive, her back arched. Muscles flexed in his arms as his fingers pressed to her back, one by one, until he’d splayed his hands against every bit of skin he could reach. The feeling of his cock jolting inside her, the growly sigh he released, the way he held onto her long after she’d stopped trembling… those were gifts and curses.

Maia dropped her forehead against his shoulder with a groan, removing her fingernails from his skin but kinda hoping she’d left impressions.

“Shit,” Bryon grunted, lifting her enough that he could pull his cock from her. The rush of fluids made her nose wrinkle. That was not ideal with a severe lack of bathing facilities available. She was still a little limp, her eyes heavy lidded and relaxation spreading through her body, but that ease and calm fled when he said, “I’m so sorry. That was a mistake.”

Maia sucked in a sharp whistle of breath, his words as sharp as Etziel’s knives but reaching far deeper. She forced a laugh, grabbed her trousers, and stood in a rush, propping herself against the wall to tug them back on. “You don’t have to tell me that shouldn’t have happened.”

Bryon dragged a hand over his face and tucked his cock away. Maia refused to notice the mess they’d both made of his leathers. Her stomach cramped. It was as if she’d been punched in the gut, but she sat against the wall as if everything was normal and fine. She only had herself to blame. Although she soundly blamed the bastard for kissing her first.

She reached for her snark, for her armour. “Impressive, though,” she said with a smirk, stretching her legs in front of her, ignoring the cum between her thighs. “I would’ve thought a brute like you would be done in two pumps.”

He gave her his middle finger, and Maia forced a laugh. He didn’t speak as he settled against the wall opposite, which just pissed her off. He didn’t get to give her the silent treatment after fucking her to a spectacular finish and immediately calling it a mistake. He didn’t get to ignore her.

“Who taught you to kiss like that?” she asked with a little sneer.

“My wife,” he said quietly, soundly shutting her up.

“Shit,” she breathed, remembering everything he’d lost. Her rage turned to sympathy, to regret. No wonder he didn’t want her; he probably felt like he was cheating on his dead wife. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes snapped to hers, dull, miserable green clashing with soft gold. “You have nothing to apologise for. I kissed you.”

Yeah, he had. Maia sighed, trying to brush her hair back into place with her fingers, unable to forget how it felt to have his hands all over her. “I’m going back to sleep.” With his cum all over her. Fucking hell. “Don’t wake me if I have another nightmare.”

Maia curled up on the floor with her back to him, not particularly caring that it closed off her view of the door right now. She hoped she dreamt, hoped she heard Azrail’s voice again.

But when she dreamed, she was alone.