Page 31 of Dark Shaman: The Lost Treasure (The Children Of The Gods #98)
ELUHEED
T he sight of Tamira coming apart beneath him was the most beautiful thing Eluheed had ever witnessed.
Her face transformed with pleasure, eyes wide and unseeing, lips parted in a silent cry that seemed to come from her very soul.
He felt her inner muscles clench around him in waves, each pulse threatening to trigger his own release.
But he held back through sheer force of will, wanting to watch her, to memorize every second of her abandon. The way her throat arched, the flush that spread across her golden skin, the tiny tremors that ran through her body.
He wanted to remember it all.
"That's it," he murmured against her ear, maintaining his rhythm even as his control frayed. "Let me feel all of you."
She made a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh, her nails raking down his back hard enough that he knew there would be marks. Regrettably, they wouldn't last, and she would wonder why.
When her trembling began to ease, he slowed his movements, pressing kisses to her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. She turned her head to look at him with wide eyes. "Don't slow down. I want you to come undone." Her legs tightened around him. "I want to feel you let go, too."
"I'm not done worshipping you."
Her eyes, still glowing faintly in the darkness, narrowed. "Elias..."
It was a command he knew he could not refuse, but he would obey on his own terms.
He began to move again, drawing out each stroke until she was once again writhing beneath him. He wanted to map every sensitive spot, learn every gasp and sigh, discover exactly how to take her apart and put her back together again.
"You're insufferable," she panted, but her body was already responding, arousal building again.
"You love it," he teased while shifting the angle of his hips slightly, searching for—there. Her sharp intake of breath told him he'd found what he was looking for. He focused on that spot, watching her face as surprise gave way to renewed desire.
"How do you—" she began, but the question dissolved into a moan as he repeated the motion.
How could he explain that he'd spent centuries training to read female energy, to sense the flow of pleasure through her body like tracking light through crystal? That right now she was glowing like the sun, every nerve-ending broadcasting its needs in a language older than words?
Eluheed hadn't known that he'd trained for just this moment, for joining with this incredible immortal female, a descendant of gods.
Instead of trying to explain, he showed her. Drew patterns of pleasure with his hips, wrote poetry on her skin with his hands, sang silent songs of devotion with every touch.
This wasn't sex—it was communion, a sharing of essence that transcended the physical.
She was close again; he could feel it in the way her breathing changed, the tension gathering in her muscles. This time, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold back. The need for release had become urgent.
"Come with me," he commanded.
Her eyes met his, and in them he saw his own need reflected and magnified. She nodded, pulling his head down for a kiss that was all teeth and tongue and a desire as desperate as his.
The last threads of his control snapped. He drove into her with abandon now, chasing both their pleasure with single-minded intensity. She met him thrust for thrust, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization as if they'd been lovers for years rather than hours.
When he finally allowed himself to climax, his release was like a volcanic eruption. He heard himself cry out her name, maybe, or perhaps something in his native tongue that he hadn't spoken in many centuries.
Dimly, he was aware of her peaking with him, her body bowing beneath his as ecstasy claimed her again. The feeling of her pulsing around him extended his own climax until he thought he might dissolve entirely and become nothing but sensation and light.
When the storm finally passed, he collapsed, pulling her with him so he wouldn't crush her with his weight. For a long moment, they lay with their limbs entangled, their mouths panting, and sweat cooling on their skin.
It was Tamira who moved first, curling against him with her head on his chest. The gesture was so trusting, so intimate, that it made his throat tight with emotion.
"That was..."
"Inadequate?" he suggested when she trailed off, though he was fairly certain that wasn't what she'd been about to say.
She laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I was going to say transcendent, but if you think it was inadequate, I suppose we'll have to try again. You know, to improve."
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the scent of roses and a satisfied woman. "Give me a few minutes to recover, and I'll be happy to make another attempt."
"A few minutes?" She lifted her head to look at him, eyebrow raised. "That's rather optimistic for a human."
The casual reference to his supposed humanity sent a chill through him, but he kept his expression light. "Tonight, I feel like a god."
A shadow passed over her eyes. "I've been with a god, and he couldn't hold a candle to you."
She stunned him speechless.
"A god?"
"Yes," she said softly, settling back against him. "Don't ask."
Eluheed supposed it was only fair. After all, he'd told her not to ask about his mark.
He traced the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, the elegant line of her spine, while she drew patterns on his chest, carefully avoiding the mark.
"Can I ask you something?" she said eventually.
He tensed. "You can ask. I might not answer."
"Fair enough." She was quiet for a moment, seeming to gather her thoughts. "That mark on your chest is not really a burn, is it?"
His heart rate spiked, but he forced himself to remain still. "It actually is."
"I've seen burns, Elias. They are never that precise unless someone did it deliberately, like with a hot iron."
He was quiet for so long that she probably thought he wouldn't answer. Finally, he said, "It wasn't done with a hot iron."
"Then what?"
He couldn't tell her. "It's part of a shamanic tradition, and I'm not allowed to talk about it."
It was a partial lie, and the best he could do without revealing who and what he really was.
She traced near it but not on it, her touch feather-light. "It must have been agonizing."
"Pain is often the price of transformation."
She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Thank you for telling me."
Guilt twisted in his stomach. He'd given her a half-truth at best, but it was more than he'd shared with anyone on this planet.
"Your turn," he said, wanting to redirect the conversation. "You said that you've been with a god. What did you mean?"
She stiffened against him, and for a moment, he thought she wouldn't answer. Then she sighed, her breath warm against his skin.
"Do you know how I came to be here? I mean in the harem?"
"I assumed Lord Navuh chose you for your beauty, and once Lady Areana arrived, he decided that he didn't want any of his concubines."
She shook her head. "Navuh inherited me along with the other concubines. We belonged to his father first, and he was a god. His name was Mortdh, and he loved using all of us as well as every priestess in his many fertility temples and any goddess that agreed to share her bed with him."
The implications made his stomach turn. "Was he cruel to you?"
She shrugged. "He wasn't abusive, but he was what nowadays would be called a narcissist. I was young, naive, and I hoped he would fall in love with me and choose me above all others.
But I was just an immortal, and I didn't conceive.
I was worthless to him. He hoped to father a pureblooded god child with a goddess. "
He tightened his arms around her. "You're not worthless. You are priceless."
She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm ruining the mood."
"No." He turned so he could see her face. "Don't apologize for feeling sad or disappointed. Not with me. You never have to pretend with me."
She searched his eyes. "You're dangerous, you know that?"
"How so?"
"You make me want things I can't have. Freedom. Choice. A life beyond these walls." She touched his face. "You."
"You have me," he said, meaning it despite all the reasons he shouldn't.