Page 31

31

DAIN

T he chamber beneath the ruins is silent except for the ragged sounds of our breathing.

Liora stands before me, chest rising and falling, her hands clenched at her sides. The dim torchlight casts shadows over her, illuminating the fire still burning in her eyes. She doesn’t look away. She never does.

She wants answers. She demands them. But I have none to give.

"You owe me the truth, Dain." Her voice is unrelenting, sharp as a dagger pressed to my throat. "Who is Amara?"

Something cold and ancient curls inside me at the name. It coils around my heart like chains, rattling memories I refuse to unearth. I turn away, my shoulders stiff, my fists curling at my sides.

Liora moves closer. The heat between us lingers, the energy crackling, dangerous and raw. "Why won’t you tell me?" she presses. "You act like I don’t deserve to understand any of this, like I’m not part of it."

I spin to face her. "You are not part of it." My voice is a growl, my control razor-thin. "You shouldn’t be."

She flinches but recovers quickly, anger flashing across her face. "And yet, here I am."

My hands move on reflex. I grip her arms, dragging her against me. She gasps, but she doesn’t pull away. My fingers tighten around her, not to hurt, never to hurt, but to make her understand.

"You want the truth?" I ask in a low, dangerous voice. "You don’t know what you’re asking for."

"Then show me," she breathes. "Make me understand."

The restraint I have left shatters.

My mouth crashes down on hers. It’s not a kiss, it’s a battle, a collision of fury and desire. Liora doesn’t yield. She fights back, her hands threading through my hair, pulling, demanding. I press her against the cold stone wall, claiming every breath, every sound she makes, until I burn with her.

Her fingers claw at my skin, dragging me closer, as if she’s trying to pull me inside her, as if she’s drowning in this as much as I do.

She tastes like danger, like the unknown, like something I never should have touched but can’t stop touching.

This is wrong. It’s a mistake. A disaster.

But I don’t care.

I lift her, forcing her legs around my waist, pinning her beneath me as I press into her. Her breath stutters, and her nails bite into my shoulders.

The need to claim her, to mark her, to make her mine is unbearable.

I kiss her deeper, my tongue sliding against hers, my hands gripping her as if letting go would destroy me. Her body molds to mine, soft and hot, a perfect contradiction to my own unyielding form.

I pull away, panting, my forehead pressed against hers. "Tell me to stop," I demand, voice hoarse, desperate.

Liora’s response?

She kisses me harder.

I don’t know if I groan or growl, but the sound rumbles from my chest as I lose myself in her completely.

Her nails rake down my back, leaving trails of molten lava in their wake, and I growl against her neck, the sound primal, possessive, “Liora… Liora…”

My cock throbs, hard and insistent, pressed against her thigh as I grind into her, the friction maddening. She arches into me, her pussy wet and aching, her hips rolling in a silent plea for more. I can feel her heat even through the thin barrier of fabric, and it’s enough to drive me to the edge of sanity.

“You’re driving me crazy,” I growl, angry at myself but unable to stop.

“You do the same to me,” she gasps, panting as she holds onto me.

I pull back just enough to look at her, to see the hunger in her eyes, the way her lips part as she breathes my name again, softer this time, breathless. My hands slide down her sides, gripping her hips, and I yank her closer, our bodies crashing together like two storms colliding.

There’s no finesse here, no patience, just raw, unrelenting need.

Her hands fumble with the clothe covering my private parts and I help her, shoving them down just enough to free my cock, the cool air a sharp contrast to the heat of her skin.

She reaches for me, her fingers wrapping around my length, and I hiss, my head falling back as she strokes me, her touch firm and sure. But I can’t wait, can’t let this drag on any longer. I need her, all of her.

“You’re perfect,” she moans.

“I need you, little human,” I breathe.

I push her hand away and lift her, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her to the nearest surface. Her back hits the wall, and she gasps, her eyes locking with mine as I position myself at her entrance.

For a moment, I pause, my breath ragged, my body trembling with the effort to hold back. But then she whispers, “Please,” and I’m lost.

I thrust into her, hard and deep, and her pussy clenches around me, so tight, so wet, it’s almost unbearable.

“Dain! Fuck! Yes!” she cries out, her head falling back against the wall, and I bury myself in her again and again, each stroke driving us both closer to the edge.

Her nails dig into my stone skin, unable to leave a mark but I feel it deeply. Her moans fill the room, and I can’t get enough of her, of this, of the way she feels like she was made for me.

Her hips meet mine with every thrust, her body demanding more, and I give it to her, my cock plunging into her with a rhythm that’s as relentless as the hunger burning between us. Her breath comes in short, sharp gasps, and I know she’s close. I feel it as her pussy tightens around me, in the way her voice breaks as she chants my name.

“Make me come, take me!” she screams, pushing me on as I grow wilder in my movement.

“Yes!”

When she comes, it’s with a cry that echoes through me, her body shuddering as she clings to me, her pussy pulsing around my cock.

“Oh, Liora!” I roar.

The sensation is too much, and I follow her over the edge, my release crashing through me like a crashing huge wave, my hips stuttering as I come in her, my name on her lips the last thing I hear before the world goes white.