Page 66

Amari

I can’t stop stealing glances at Carla as we walk back to the cabin, her hand warm in mine.

My heart—my heart that beats only for her—swells with each step.

She loves me. Without the mate bond, without Fate’s invisible hand guiding her, she chose me.

The knowledge burns through me like wildfire, consuming everything in its path.

We reach the cabin steps, and I move ahead, opening the door and stepping aside so she can enter. I follow her in, closing the door behind us, and suddenly everything shifts, electric with possibility.

Carla pulls off her coat and steps toward me, reaching for the coat rack beside me. I catch her wrist mid-motion, and the jacket falls from her grasp, pooling on the floor at our feet. Her eyes widen, lips parting in surprise.

I pull her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, breathing in her peachy scent that’s become as necessary to me as blood.

“It’s been a long night,” she murmurs, her voice soft in the quiet cabin. “We should probably just go to bed.”

I shake my head, feeling my lips curl into a grin. “You’re not going to bed until you come on my tongue.”

“Amari—” she starts to protest, but I silence her with my mouth, crashing my lips against hers.

The kiss is savage, desperate—all teeth and tongue and need.

I pour everything into it—centuries of loneliness, decades of emptiness, and the depth she’s brought to my existence.

Her lips yield beneath mine, soft and pliant, tasting of wine and desire.

Her tongue slides against mine, tentative at first, then bolder as she matches my intensity.

I lift her, my hands gripping her thighs, and she wraps her legs around my waist instinctively. I carry her to the sofa, setting her down on her feet when we reach it. Pulling back, I shrug out of my suit jacket, loosening my tie.

Carla watches me undress, her eyes darkening as I remove my tie and unbutton my shirt. Her tongue slips out to wet her lips, and the simple gesture nearly undoes me.

“Turn around,” I command, my voice rough with need. “Bend over. Knees on the sofa. I want to see your ass.”

Her lips part, but she complies, turning away from me. She bends at the waist, placing her knees on the sofa cushions. Her dress rides up, revealing the black thong that disappears between the curves of her ass.

“A thong, Carla?” I smirk, appreciating the view.

She looks back over her shoulder, a flush spreading across her cheeks. “You can’t wear regular panties with a dress this tight.”

I kick the coffee table back, giving myself room as I slide off my shoes. I remove my cufflinks, setting them on the side table before unbuttoning my shirt and pulling it off. The cool air hits my skin as I drop to my knees behind her.

My hand connects with her ass in a sharp slap, and she yelps, the sound shooting straight to my groin. I smooth my palm over the reddening mark, feeling the heat of her skin beneath my touch.

I grip the edges of her thong and rip it away, tossing the scrap of fabric to the floor. Spreading her ass cheeks wide, I dive in, my tongue exploring every inch of her. I start at her ass before moving lower to her pussy.

She’s already wet for me, her arousal coating my tongue as I lap at her. The taste of her—sweet and intoxicating—makes me groan against her flesh. I suck her clit between my lips, flicking it with my tongue until her thighs begin to tremble.

“Amari, fuck,” she moans, her hands fisting in the sofa cushions.

I double my efforts, adding a finger, then two, curling them inside her to hit that spot that makes her see stars. Her walls clench around my fingers as she comes, her cries spilling out as she shakes against my mouth.

I stand, unbuckling my belt and pushing my pants and boxer briefs down in one smooth motion. I step out of them, now wearing nothing but my tank top and socks. My dick stands proudly, aching for her.

“Keep your ass up,” I tell her, gripping her hips and positioning myself at her entrance.

I slide in slowly, savoring the tight heat of her. I’ve had centuries of women, but none of them— none —have felt like this. Like coming home. Like finding the missing piece of myself.

My movements are deliberate at first, long and deep, wanting to make this last. But then Carla surprises me.

She starts pushing back against me, meeting each thrust with a backward roll of her hips.

Her ass jiggles with each impact, the visual combined with the sensation of being buried to the hilt inside her nearly making me lose control.

I grip her hips, stilling her movements. “Hold on, baby. I want to give this pussy a proper beating before I let you wear me down.”

I reposition, gripping the top of the sofa with one hand while keeping my other firmly on her hip. Then I start moving in earnest, sliding in and out of her with increasing force. Carla buries her face in the sofa cushions, her moans muffled by the fabric.

Soon she’s matching me thrust for thrust, the sound of skin slapping around us. The sight of her—ass raised, back arched, taking me so perfectly—has my eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“Yes,” I groan, feeling the pressure building. “Fuck, yes.”

Carla whimpers beneath me, her body tensing as another orgasm approaches. I move my hand from her hip, reaching under to wrap my fingers around her chin, pulling her head up and making her arch her back even more.

I thrust harder, faster, chasing our release. When I feel her come, her walls pulsing around my dick, I’m done for. I slam into her one final time, practically roaring as I empty myself inside her.

Carla doesn’t stop moving, continuing to rock back against me, milking every last drop. The sensation becomes too much, and I pull out abruptly, my legs wobbling as I struggle to stay upright.

She turns over, looking up at me with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Her breathing is rapid, her eyes glazed and unfocused.

I reach for her, lifting her into my arms. She wraps herself around me, clinging to me as I carry her up the stairs to our bedroom. Once inside, I set her down and peel the tight dress over her head. I pull off my tank top and socks, then remove her bra, tossing it aside.

I push her down onto the bed, following her down, my body covering hers as I claim her mouth again. I kick her legs open and slide back inside her, groaning at how slick she is, filled with my come.

“Already?” she gasps, her eyes widening. “Don’t you want a break?”

“I have a high sex drive,” I tell her, starting to move again. “It takes at least four orgasms before I’m really tired.”

“Oh hell no,” she says, but her body betrays her, hips rising to meet mine.

I laugh, thrusting deeper. “It’s our first night as real lovers. I’ll go easy on you.”

I brace one hand on the mattress, using the other to cup her breast, lowering my head to take a nipple into my mouth. I continue to move inside her, setting a rhythm that has her moaning with each thrust.

Without breaking our connection, I roll us over so she’s on top, straddling me. “Ride me,” I tell her, my hands settling on her hips. “I want to see you in control, my Spider Queen. I’m yours to command.”

I watch as her expression changes, something like power flashing in her eyes. She begins to move, uncertain at first, so I guide her, showing her how to take her pleasure from me.

“You’re so beautiful,” I tell her, watching her breasts bounce with each movement. “It means everything to know you love me, even without the mate bond. This kind of love—chosen, not fated—it’s more powerful than any soul tie.”

I grip her hips tighter, helping her find the perfect rhythm. “I love you, Carla. I’ll give you the world. I pledge my life to you and our children. I will serve you, honor you, love you like the queen you are.”

Carla throws her head back, crying out as she comes again, her walls clenching around me. I feel every pulse, every contraction, savoring the knowledge that I’m the one making her feel this way.

“No more,” she gasps, collapsing against me.

“Oh yes,” I counter, rolling us so she’s beneath me again. “One more. You’ve got one more in you.”

I lift her legs, spreading them wide as I drive into her again. I angle my hips, making sure to hit the spots that make her breath catch. Her head thrashes from side to side, and I smile as her eyes begin to lose focus, her mind hazy with pleasure.

I bring my fingers to her clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as I continue thrusting. Her words become incoherent, a stream of pleas and curses that feed my ego and drive me harder.

“Yes,” I encourage her, feeling her body tensing beneath me. “Let yourself go, baby. Surrender to the passion.”

Her body goes limp, completely yielding to me, and I feel the pressure building. Her muscles contract around me, her breasts bouncing with each hard thrust, and then it happens.

Carla’s head falls back, her eyes widening as her mouth drops open. It’s the big one—the orgasm that has stars exploding behind her eyes. She grunts, taking in a sharp breath and holding it as I keep stroking in and out of her.

“Oh god,” she moans, her voice breaking. “Oh god, fuck, oh god, what are you doing to me?”

I throw my head back, sweat dripping from my chin as I pound into her, fighting back my own release as I work her through her pleasure. But it’s too much—with two more hard strokes, I come, crashing against her and burying my face in her neck.

Carla wraps her arms tightly around me, holding me close as we both struggle to catch our breath. I chuckle against her skin, feeling more satisfied than I have in centuries.

“I’m never letting you go,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

I laugh, rolling onto my side and pulling her with me. “That’s just the spell of a good orgasm talking,” I tease. “But you’re right. You’re never letting me go, and I’m never leaving.”

I prop myself up on my elbow, looking down into her eyes. The love I see there makes my newly beating heart race. “I love you, Carla. I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

She reaches up weakly, stroking my cheek. “I love you too,” she says, and the simple words nearly break me.

While it’s incredible that she loves me without the mate bond, I want her to feel it now more than ever. I want her to experience the fullness of what I feel for her, the connection that spans beyond time and space.

I pull her against me, arranging us comfortably under the covers. She rests her head on my chest, right over my heart.

“Sleep now,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

But Carla surprises me, pushing herself up to look at me, her eyes filled with mischief.

“I’m not tired yet,” she says, her voice husky from our lovemaking.

Before I can respond, she slides down my body, her lips leaving a trail of heat across my skin, my stomach, lower. I suck in a breath when I feel her mouth on me, warm and wet and perfect.

“Carla,” I groan, my hands finding their way into her wild curls.

She looks up at me, her green eyes meeting mine as she takes me deeper. The sight of her—my queen, my mate—pleasuring me this way nearly shatters my control. Her tongue swirls around the head of my dick, and my hips buck involuntarily.

“Careful, baby,” I warn, trying to be gentle, but she just smiles around me and continues her sweet torture.

I’ve received this kind of pleasure countless times over the centuries, but this—this is different. Because it’s Carla. Because there’s love behind every touch, every stroke of her tongue. Because my heart beats for her alone.

When I feel myself getting close, I pull her up, flipping us so she’s beneath me again. I capture her mouth in a kiss that tastes like heaven.

“Wrap your legs around me,” I whisper against her lips, and she complies immediately.

I enter her again, slowly this time, savoring the sensation. We move together like waves meeting the shore—inevitable, rhythmic, perfect. Our fingers intertwine beside her head, and I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in with every thrust.

This isn’t just sex anymore. This is communion. This is worship. This is everything I’ve been searching for all along.

When we finally collapse together, spent and satisfied, I gather her against me, her head finding its place against me.

“I’m looking forward to starting our new future together,” I murmur into her hair. “And meeting Angie tomorrow night—hopefully we can get some answers about lifting the veil.”

Carla drifts off quickly now, lulled by the steady rhythm of my heartbeat. I stay awake, staring at the ceiling, offering a silent prayer to Fate.

Thank you for giving me this woman—this magnificent woman that I surely don’t deserve. I’ll do anything to keep her. Anything.

As her breathing deepens in sleep, I hold her closer, savoring the weight of her against me. For the first time in over a thousand years, I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.