Page 49 of Once the Skies Fade (Immortal Reveries #2)

Chapter 49

Calla

M atthias had almost undone me with his words alone, but I refused to let him see how much I wanted him to act on them. By the way he consumed me with his eyes now, though, I could tell I’d failed. He knew what I craved. I expected him to move as soon as I voiced my challenge, to take action quickly and decisively––but instead he moved painfully, irritatingly slowly.

Brushing his thumb over my bottom lip as he had earlier, he studied me hungrily. He parted my lips, and his eyes drifted down to the slow dance of my tongue on him.

When he finally spoke, the words came out rough with wild desire. “You want to taste me, Killer?”

I nodded.

Gently, he slipped his hand along my jaw, cupped the back of my head, and pulled me to him. Locking my eyes on his, I let him guide me, relishing in how he took control, treating me as if I was the most precious thing in the world to him, yet not so fragile that he wouldn’t wield me as he wanted.

Shifting his hips, he angled himself to meet my lips, forced me to open for him, and then pulled me onto him until I was filled so deeply I forgot how to breathe. Moving my tongue around him, I would have grinned at how his eyes threatened to roll back with pleasure, but it was impossible to smile with my mouth spread so wide. I swallowed hard, pulling him in deeper, hollowing my cheeks, as I lured him in as far as he could go, feeling him slide into the back of my throat.

Fuck, I was nearly to the edge and we had only begun. I tried to slow the pace, but he gripped my hair and pulled me to him over and over, finding a steady rhythm to match our rapid heartbeats and ragged breaths.

“Your shadows, Killer,” he reminded me on a rough whisper, and I lifted my hand to where my mouth ended and he began, calling my shadows out. I only had to direct my power to the aching space between my legs, and then let it take over, just as I let Matthias.

A deep moan filled his chest, echoed by my own that hummed along his length pulsing past my lips. My shadows swirled around my bundle of nerves, slipping further between my legs and filling me with a refreshingly cold pressure.

Matthias’s fingers curled in my hair, holding me steady as he thrust greedily into my mouth. I watched him, feeding off the rapture on his face as much as I did his body. We moved together—his hips, my shadows—faster and faster, building and swelling, until our frantic need sent us tumbling together into a euphoric sea where he filled me, drowning me with his delicious end.

When he relaxed his grip on my hair, trembling as he slipped from my lips, I wiped a finger at the corner of my mouth and mimicked his favorite casual frown and shrugged.

“Not bad, general.”

His laugh—rough and booming—filled the room and warmed my world with a joy I’d thought impossible for me to ever experience again.

“Shadows away, Killer.”

As I obliged, pulling my shadows back into my palm, Matthias caught me by my shoulders, lifted me gently, and tossed me backward onto his bed. A laugh escaped me, lighter and brighter than I had heard from myself in so long. He was hovering over me before I had finished giggling. Wagging his brows at me, he flashed me a devilish smirk as his face disappeared from view, lowering down to where my breasts lifted and fell with each heavy pant.

His tongue painted slow circles around one peak, pulling such a gasp from me that I had to cover my eyes with my hand. Biting down hard on my lip, I tried to ignore the agonizing ache that throbbed in my core, and to hold back the pleading words that already wanted to escape. I couldn’t let him win so soon, but that stars-damned tongue of his was making it nearly impossible.

As he devoured one breast, he found the other with nimble fingers, rolling and flicking and pinching until the walls of my resolve threatened to crumble around me. His other hand slid up my thigh, falling between my legs, grazing over my slick center to tease every frayed nerve I had.

“That’s not fair, general,” I chided in an uneven, unconvincing tone.

“Oh, did I not mention what my hands would be doing?” he said against my skin.

I shook my head against the bed. “No.”

His strokes—perfect in their pace and pressure—didn’t let up even as he asked, “Do you want me to stop then?”

Yes, I thought, but my lips uttered a too-desperate, “Never.”

Nipping my breast with his teeth, he laughed when I released one ragged breath after another.

“What’s that, Killer? Is this too much? Have you had enough?”

Stars danced behind my eyelids, and I fisted the bedding with both hands.

“No. Not enough.”

“What do you need?” he asked between the overwhelming sweeps of his tongue.

“You,” I gasped.

“Where?”

“Here,” I said, my eyes slamming shut as I grabbed his length and feverishly tried to pull him to where I ached most.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his husky voice teasing me in the worst ways.

“Fuck, general. Yes, I’m sure.” I slid my fingers into his hair and curled them against his head, yanking his face up to look at me.

He lifted his brow in silent question, his hand not slowing its teasing between my legs.

I rolled my eyes and whimpered like a pathetic wench. “Fine. You win.”

“What? I didn’t hear you,” he said, his voice irritatingly taunting.

“Please, general.”

“Please… what?”

Sighing, I lifted my head off the bed until my breath tickled his ear.

“Fuck me…please,” I whispered.

No sooner had I said the words than he was there, his hand replaced by the edge of him. He lifted my hand away from where I still gripped him.

“Lift your hips for me, Killer,” he commanded.

I obeyed, nearly falling into that bliss again when he gave inch after inch to me. Filling me over and over, thrusting and pulsing, giving me all of him so readily, so completely—so tenderly, even—that it brought tears to my eyes. I wiped them away with my hand, trying to savor the way our bodies moved together, perfectly in tune with each other.

I nearly froze beneath him.

What was happening here?

This was just supposed to be a fun distraction.

It wasn’t that he was better than Brennan—they were equally skilled in these matters—but I’d never felt this strong of a connection before. What did that mean?

Why did it need to mean anything?

Just enjoy yourself, Calla!

I growled as I pushed my thoughts past the inconvenient, absurd feelings.

This was only physical. Just a release. Nothing more.

But the closer we edged toward our shared bliss, the more our bodies melded into one, and the more my doubt grew.

This was more. This was everything. This was impossible .

This couldn’t happen.

I didn’t want connection.

I didn’t want love.

I wanted distraction.

Just this one last time.

This had to be the last time.

I opened my eyes to find him watching me intently, as if he were trying to hear the thoughts roaring in my head. He slowed his movements, his eyes searching mine.

“Should I stop?” he asked, brushing my hair away from my forehead.

Yes. No. Fuck, I don’t know.

I shook my head and gripped his hips to pull him closer, determined to not let him see me break down. As he picked up the pace once more, his eyes dropped to my mouth. He drew closer, bringing his lips dangerously close to mine, and I panicked, turning my head away so that his kiss landed on my jaw. If he noticed my objection to being kissed, he didn’t show it—pressing his lips under my ear in a feverish trail down my neck.

Biting down on Matthias’s shoulder, I channeled all my fear and worry into my hips as they rolled madly beneath him, torn between wanting to finish so I could run away and never wanting it to end. When we finally collapsed into a heap of satisfied breaths and trembling bodies, I pushed him off me and sat up.

What had I done? What was I to do now?

I couldn’t risk my heart to another, and I’d been a stars-damned fool to think this wouldn’t have consequences.

Matthias lifted himself onto his elbow, his hazel eyes following me as I pushed to my feet, lacing up my bodice and smoothing down my dress as I turned to leave.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked.

Peering back over my shoulder at him—hating how he looked at me as if he’d risk the whole world to please me, and hating my fractured heart more for delighting in it—I narrowed my eyes.

“I didn’t peg you as the cuddling type,” I said. I resumed my retreat, but I wasn’t fast enough.

My hand barely touched the door handle when he spoke again.

“Calla.”

I stilled at his use of my name, but I refused to turn.

“What?” I asked, the word more clipped than I intended.

I could feel his gaze burning into my back as I waited for him to say something, hoping he wouldn’t chase after me as he had the other night. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was our heartbeats—mine still quickened, his slowing steadily. Irritated by his silence, I called my shadows out to conceal me as I turned the handle. Only when I pulled the door open did he finally offer a hollow “goodnight.”