Page 114 of In The Dark
His head dips, lips trailing a scorching path down my neck and onto my chest. My hand flies to his hair when I feel him begin to work between my legs, rubbing me in tight circles.
Then he groans against me once he feels how soaked I am. The pressure has already begun to coil low, aching for my release as he rubs and slips a finger in, curling. My hips begin to rock against his hand, urging him to continue, when he suddenly takes away my pleasure, halting the movement.
“Wha–what are you doing? Don’t stop.” My eyes flutter open.
I ache and attempt to guide his hand back down, but he holds it firm on my hip, leaving me to groan in frustration. He gently guides me down so that my back rests on the table, continuing to graze his mouth down my stomach, grip firm on my hips. He straightens, his tongue trailing across his fingers—tasting me—and I watch his muscles twitch with restraint.
“You look so beautiful when you beg,” he mumbles, eyes slowly raking over my body. “Do you know what I love?”
A whimper escapes when I shake my head, my tone unrecognizable as I continue to grip his hips with my knees. I begin to quiver and my back suddenly arches, the movement involuntary as the pressure becomes too much.
With a groan, my hand dips between my legs to relieve some of the tension, but he snatches both of my wrists and holds them above my head, pinned between him and the table.
“Not until I say so.” He leans over me, a possessive glint in his eyes as he holds my gaze. His head dips, biting my bottom lip, and I writhe beneath him. “I love it when you beg,” he growls. “And I love it when you’re mine.”
He forces my legs apart, spreading wider as he lines himself up, a small grin forming on his mouth. Then our mouths instinctively part, collectively moaning when he drives his hips forward and finally—finally the pressure subsides. With gaspedpants, we hold each other’s stare as we savor the moment. And then his hips begin to move.
“Fuck,” I get out.
My eyes fall on his expression as he hovers, my hands still tightly secured under his grasp. He drives into me with the perfect rhythm and without restraint, his gaze never leaving mine when his brows knit.
“Nothing—no one—will take you from me,” he breathes.
His movements become frantic—hungry. The table rattles beneath us, scraping across the floor as papers scatter to the ground.
He releases my wrists, pulling me up so that my arms clasp around his neck. My head drops back, my release already forming with a sudden quickness, leaving my legs trembling. Our moans collide, the sounds echoing in the loft as if they were always meant to meld in the air together.
Then he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me in and somehow pushing himself deeper, forcing a breathy cry to rush past. My clit rubs against him as he pushes into me over and over, and somehow, it’s the right amount of?—
“Rydian, gods!” I tremble, my body suddenly too weak to hold myself upright, but he holds me in place before devouring my mouth.
His cock tightens just as he thrusts his hips forward, once, then twice, before he’s spilling himself in me. Satisfied groans fill the air.
We pant, holding each other as we slowly crawl back to reality. My forehead rests on his shoulder, slick with sweat, when he leans down to kiss the top of my head with a soft chuckle. Then his lips brush mine, though a grin tugs at his mouth.
“I’ll bring you water and something to clean you up,” he says, vanishing, then appears with water and a rag. I brace my palms against the table with a smirk, taking the glass from him andsipping, arching a brow. After taking the time to clean me himself, his gaze meets mine, and he straightens.
“In case you didn’t hear me earlier—I love you,” he murmurs, his voice steady but intense. I lean forward with pinched brows, my gaze softening as my own doubts come flooding back.
The emotions—the fear of never being enough for him. I part my lips in an attempt to speak, but he interrupts, his voice firmer this time.
“Truly, Isa. I love you.” He studies me, tilting my head back as a swirl of emotions threatens to consume me. “Not the idea of you. Not just the pieces of you that you’re willing to share but everything. Even the secrets you keep from me, and I know you have a few.” He tugs at the end of my hair. “I love your wild spirit and the way you try to hide your embarrassment. The way your eyes flicker when something angers you, or the way you rub your wrist when you get nervous.”
My secrets.“I?—”
“I want you to tell me when you’re ready, but I just wanted you to know,” he interrupts, then leans down for my clothes. He dresses me in silence, and I watch as he pulls his pants over his hips. “Let’s clean up.” Rydian smirks. “The others will be fully disgusted if they find us all over our research.”
I snort, bending to grab papers to begin placing each one back in their original stacks, sorting through the notes and relabeling everything. Gods, we made a mess.
“Remind me not to fuck on our research again,” I mumble, smoothing out the wrinkled map and flattening it only to lean in again. “What the… oh my gods.” My eyes flare as realization dawns on me.
I’m suddenly bracing myself against the table for stability as I take a deep breath, willing the nausea to subside. I can’t help the bile that rises in my throat.
“What is it?” Rydian rushes to my side. His eyes meet mine over my shoulder.
“Do you see that?” I ask, pointing to the edge of the map, and he furrows his brows.
“That’s the map of the castle.”