Page 83 of Eldritch (The Eating Woods #2)

“You will.” I reached down, gripping his hard length with my clawed hand.

It swelled in my grasp, eager and engorged with fresh blood.

“I will give you what you need.” I lifted myself from the floor, urging him onto his back.

My legs hardly straddled his massive body as I settled myself over his thighs, still gripping him.

Lips parted, he watched me with an anxious tension swirling in his eyes.

I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. What I imagined someone so inexperienced could give him. It didn’t matter, though. Neither of us held advantage over the other.

I scooted my way up his body, and when my bare sex dragged over the piercings, each smooth, steel bead caressing my sensitive flesh, he arched upward and let out a masculine sound of satisfaction that stirred something anew inside of me.

Curious, I lowered myself over the underside of his cock and circled my hips.

The low vibration scattered over the ball of nerves deep inside of me that had me jerking forward with a grunt.

He hadn’t even penetrated me, and that delicious vibration sang across my tender flesh.

A pulsing at my knuckles yanked my focus to the veins on the glove that throbbed as before. I pressed my hand against his heart, digging my nails into his chest, and Zevander surged upward, his back bowed as a sound of pleasure and pain bellowed out of him.

Panic spiraled through me, and I drew my hand back, but he reached out. “No,” he rasped, placing it back in the same spot. “Please.”

Closing my eyes, I dug my fingers into him again and dragged my hips up and down his pierced length, painting my arousal across his skin.

“Fucking hell!” He shuddered, and his palms gripped my backside, pressing me against those wicked little prongs that reached out for my flesh with every stroke.

I mindlessly dug my nails into him as that agonizing hunger coiled low in my stomach, needing to be filled. The vibration sank into me, shaking my thighs as he circled his hips beneath me.

My stomach clenched, muscles tight.

A mewling cry leaked out of me, my arousal spilling across the steel with each drag of his erection.

“Zevander, oh, gods.” The heat and pressure swelled inside of me like a boiling kettle, pulling and tugging at some invisible string that wound through my core.

Fingers bruised my hips, where they gripped me so tight, I thought he might crush my bones.

But there was no pain. Only a dull and numbing ache as the pleasure inside of me expanded, pressing against my muscles.

The vibration surged, and I raked my fingers down his chest, my muscles locked so tightly they might’ve snapped any moment.

Light exploded at the back of my eyes, and a tingling warmth dispersed across my limbs, through my stomach and chest. I cried out, breasts jutting outward as I arched my back, letting it ripple through me like a tidal wave.

Fingers dug into my hips and he cursed, a ragged and raw sound tearing out of him like a violent storm breaking through the calm of a cloud.

I felt the warm burst of his release painting my flesh, and looked down between us, watching it smear across our bodies as I circled my hips against him.

The physical, messy proof of his pleasure.

Pleasure that I’d given him. Shuttering my eyes, I recalled those last moments over again, smiling at the echo of his curse, the seconds before he’d surrendered himself.

I opened my eyes to see him staring back at me, a look of awe carved into his expression.

“You are fucking divine,” he rasped, dragging me to his lips for a kiss.

Starved of breath, I pushed up to break our fused lips, and the sight that met my eyes stole my breath all over again.

Five jagged gashes across his chest sent a gurgling dread to the pit of my stomach. Blood trickled from the wounds I’d inflicted, and I raised my hand, examining the traces of it smeared across the metal fingertips.

“Don’t.” Zevander gripped my wrist, breaking me of the cold shock that chewed at my ribs. “I wanted this. I wanted every second of it.”

“But I …” I couldn’t bring myself to say aloud what I’d done to him.

How I’d gouged him with such brutality and hadn’t even noticed through my euphoria.

Tears formed in my eyes, the shame of what I’d done clawing at my heart as I wriggled to get loose, but he tightened his hold and yanked me forward until my breasts pressed against those vicious wounds.

“This is what I need. You asked. I’m telling you. I need this. I need to watch you drowning in the pleasure that I give you.”

“While I mutilate you? Is that not what she did to you? Is that not how you suffered?”

“You’re wrong. This is the first time I’ve ever felt something more than the pain.

I saw the flush of your face,” he said, brushing his knuckles over my cheek.

“The parting of your lips for breath.” His thumb caressed my bottom lip.

“I’ve never watched something so beautiful in my life.

Like the sun breaking over the horizon. It was ecstasy. ”

“I put scars on your body, Zevander. Scars I’ll have to look upon and be reminded of the pain I caused you.”

“I’ll never look upon them as a painful memory. Those wounds mark the first time my heart beat for something more. The first time I gave willingly .”

Tears slipped down my cheeks, and he thumbed them away.

“Don’t punish yourself, Lunamiszka. This was the most exquisite moment of my life.”

I couldn’t begin to imagine how, or why, but it was not my place to judge him for it.

He could’ve lied to ease my conscience, but the contentment on his face spoke otherwise.

The usually deep lines of tension in his brow had softened a little, and I ran my non-gloved thumb across it to confirm for myself.

“I could never live with myself, if I harmed you.”

“Now you know my pain. The only thing I fear in this world.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his palm gripping the back of my head.

“I torment myself with the notion of setting you free sometimes. Sparing you of this cruel lust for pain. And there are moments when I imagine I have the strength to follow through. But I can’t.

I could burn every village and person in it, and it would be as effortless as blowing out a candle.

But I do not possess the power to let you go. ”

“Promise me you’ll give up that silly notion.”

His palm gently gripped the column of my throat. “Promise you’ll never try to escape me.” He pressed a kiss to my lips.

“Even if I wanted to, and I don’t, it’s too late for me now. Your hooks are firmly rooted inside of me.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “And, by god, if you turn that into something sexual, I’ll scream.”

Zevander chuckled and kissed me again. “I’ll refrain. This time. Just know my hooks are ready and willing to drag you out of those pious thoughts anytime.”

“I think we should get your wounds cleaned.” As if sensing the unease blooming inside of me again, he cupped my face.

“My obsession knows no bounds, moon witch. I’d tear apart the heavens and sacrifice my own soul for you.”

I gave a reluctant smile, unable to peel my gaze from those vicious gashes. “I would never ask you to sacrifice your soul for me.”

“You don’t have to ask. It was yours the moment fate seared your name into it.” He pressed my palm against his ruined skin, and I winced at the depth of his wounds. “This flesh is temporary, but what you’ve awakened in me is eternal.”

I lay with my back against Zevander’s chest, the warmth of the bath soothing my aching muscles as he dragged his palm over my arm.

It must’ve been twilight outside, but the darkness of the room with the drapes drawn made it feel so much later.

From the floor beside the tub, he lifted one of the bottles of liquor he’d swiped from the pantry and tipped back a long swill.

As he lowered it back to the floor, I grabbed his arm and flicked my fingers for a sip.

“It isn’t morumberry wine.”

“Not everything I consume needs to be sweet.”

“This would knock you on your ass, if you weren’t already lying down.” He handed me the bottle, and I tipped it back for a small sip.

The pungent, earthy liquor burned as it slid down my throat, and I grimaced, shaking my head. “What is it?”

“A shit version of whiskey.”

I tipped it back again for a longer swill, gulping past the burn in my sinuses.

“Easy there, wet tongue,” Zevander said, and I lowered the bottle, coughing as the liquor seared my mouth.

My coughing turned to a laugh as I handed the bottle back to him. “What is a wet tongue?”

“What we called the stumbling drunks in The Hovel. Used to carry around a bottle all the time. Never let their mouths get dry.” One more sip, and he held the bottle as he rested his elbow against the tub. His other hand drew warm water up onto my breasts. “Wouldn’t want them to get too cold.”

Smiling, I gently scraped my metallic nails over his thigh beneath the water’s surface, and his leg twitched. “The last time we lay together, you disappeared.”

“I followed an intruder,” he said, entwining his fingers in my ungloved hand.

“Who?”

“Theron.”

I snapped my head to the side. “Here? In the temple? I thought you killed him.”

“He healed. It’s his blood magic.”

“So, what did you do with him this time?” I pitched upright, the room wobbling with the movement and his arms braced around me, urging me back against him.

“I locked him in the vault below.”

“Is it secure enough to hold him? I’m not sure I feel entirely comfortable sleeping in the same vicinity as an assassin…aside from you, of course.”

“It’s secure.” He sighed, wrapping me tighter. “In the event we don’t find the vein, or vivicantem, I wanted a possibility.”

Aleysia. He’d mentioned the plan before, and I’d chosen to ignore it.

“You told me bonds were eternal.”

“They are,” he said, pressing his lips to the top of my head before raising the bottle for another drink.