Page 47 of Ringmaster (The Kingdom of Shadow & Bone #1)

Mercy

Something snaps, and suddenly, I can hear Azrael’s voice inside my head.

Images flash. Thoughts swirl with unspoken words.

I crumble. This man I’m willing to give up the world for loves me so much—has loved me immensely.

It’s worth it. Living an eternity with someone who loves me the way Azrael does is worth losing everything and everyone I know.

I love you. His voice is husky and soft in my head.

His lips brush over my shoulder as he lands feather-soft kisses into my skin. I melt beneath his touch—warm—gentle—savory. Azrael’s fingertips graze my hips, guiding them to meet his as the kiss intensifies.

When his tongue slips into my mouth, I suck it in, tasting him. He mirrors the motion.

When he releases it, I say, “You mentioned waiting for this moment. Tell me, Prince of Shadow and Bone, how is it supposed to go?”

“Angel, how can you be so cruel?” He whimpers.

I roll my hips against him. “Why is it cruel to ask what you’ve imagined?”

“Because it’s like this,” he replies through gritted teeth, capturing my hand and dragging it over his hardness. “I want your hands on me.”

He releases his hold, running the back of his fingers down my arms. “I want your body to be all mine.”

His fingers race back up my arms, and his shadows wrap around the blanket’s edge, tugging it loose, exposing my skin inch by inch. The sensation awakens every nerve, sending a rush of heat through me. Heat pulses through me as slickness coats my thighs.

Azrael captures my lips while his hands glide over my curves. I moan as his fingers pause to trace circles around my hardening nipples. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I want everything you want, everything you’ve been thinking.”

My cheeks flush as I gasp for breath.

“Yes,” he groans. “I want to leave you breathless.”

My fingers glide over his length. One tug and the blanket will fall away, exposing him. His mouth scorches a trail along my neck, down past my collarbone, before his tongue swirls slow, deliberate heat around my nipple. I cry out from the pleasure.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he teases, moving to the other side.

I grip the blanket at his waist, threatening to pull. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Azrael stiffens. Then grips my chin between his fingers, locking eyes with me. “Don’t stop, angel.”

I hesitate for only a moment, then tug the blanket, letting it fall to the floor.

Shadows lap over us, cradling me in their embrace as they take me to the ground, laying my body gently on the rug.

Azrael drops to his knees beside me and presses a kiss to my leg.

His fingers trail up my thigh—every inch of me burning, aching for him.

I arch my back as he parts my thighs and lowers his head between them.

His breath is hot against me and when his tongue swipes over my sensitive clit, I tilt my head back and see stars.

Literal stars. The ceiling above us has been spelled to reflect the night sky.

Stars swirl in the deep blues and blacks, twinkling as his tongue glides, tasting me again and again.

My arousal climbs with each skilled flick of his tongue. Just when I think I can’t possibly handle any more, his cool shadows swirl over my taunt nipples, stroking and teasing them until I gasp, liquid spilling from me onto his tongue. He laps more intensely until I’m begging him to stop.

He crawls up my body, growling low as he licks his lips. His fingers slip between my legs as his mouth finds mine—I taste myself on him, and crave more.

“Please, Azrael,” I pant against his mouth.

But he’s savoring me, taking things as slow as he can while my body submits fully to his every command.

His fingers brush my sensitive bundle of nerves before slipping inside—slow, deliberate, curling to find that perfect spot that makes me come undone. He keeps going until my climax pulses just below the surface, ready to break.

Closer.

Closer.

Then he pulls away—leaving me gasping and empty.

He maneuvers himself between my legs, careful not to provide any of the friction I’m starving for. I arch up, desperate, and he grins. “Are you sure this is what you want, Mercy?” he rasps, “There’s no going back after it’s done.”

I nod, biting my bottom lip to keep from begging.

But he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

He feels it all through the bond. Just like I feel him.

The excitement pulses between us, waves of satisfaction and desire crashing through our connection.

His arousal—intense, consuming—threatens to unravel me.

All it would take is…

Pleasure consumes my thoughts as his warm, wet tongue drags across my nipple. The air hits it for a second then he’s pulling it between his lips—licking, sucking—only to release it and move to the other. When he’s done torturing me, he kisses his way up until his lips are against my ear.

“Words, angel. I want to hear you say it. I need to know how bad you want this.” His voice is strained and gravely, making me melt beneath him.

Tendrils of shadow dance across my body, teasing every inch of exposed skin in a blissful sensory overload.

“Please,” I whimper.

“Please what, darling?” He kisses me once, then pulls away. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need you. All of you. I want you to take me and make me yours—forever.” I gasp as the warmth of his tip presses against my entrance.

But still, he holds back—not satisfied with my response. “Say the right words, angel. I can’t help you.” His voice is husky and strained.

He must be bound by some kind of magic. I think back to everything he’s said to me over the last few days. If it has to be the right words—and everything I know about Azrael feels ancient and old. He said I’m his mate.

I cup his face in my hands, staring deep into his eyes—halfway between their normal icy blue and the black they often become. “I want you to make me your mate. I accept you, Azrael.”

The moment his name leaves my lips, his control slips.

He thrusts inside, taking me completely.

There’s nothing gentle about it—only savage, raw desire.

He pulls back gently, giving me time to catch my breath, before slamming back in.

Each declaration is a rhythmic thrust. “You’re mine.

Now and forever. Until the end of time. In this world and the next. You belong to me.”

“Yours,” I whisper, breath ragged.

“Mine,” he answers.

I moan as he covers my mouth with a kiss, deep and hungry.

I feel him everywhere—his thick, hard cock stretching me to accommodate him.

I arch into him grinding, as power surges and trickles over my skin in warm waves.

It burns in the most delicious way, and when I look at my hand shadowed tattoos bloom—marigolds twining from the tip of my ring finger and swirling over my hand in inky grace.

Azrael lifts his hand to examine the tattoo now etched on his own. Where mine is a marigold, his is an eight-pointed star. “The light to my dark,” he whispers, kissing my tattoo and sending a magical tingle through my body.

“Does this mean I’m yours now?” I ask, already lost in his eyes.

“Yes. You’re mine—now, always, and forever.” His mouth captures mine, and I’m lost in the intoxicating pleasure as he sets a steady pace.

My orgasm coils tighter and tighter… and then he reaches between my legs to send me over the edge. I rock my hips, meeting each of his thrusts as he drives into me. Pleasure consumes us both. I explode, and he groans, our kiss breaking.

“You feel so fucking good,” Azrael rasps, gazing at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before.

“I never want this to end,” I confess, which makes him laugh.

Before I can catch my breath, he rolls us over, guiding me on top.

I sink onto him, gasping as our hips find a punishing rhythm.

I throw my head back, rolling my hips against him as I chase another orgasm lingering just out of reach.

Azrael grips my hips, driving into me. When I look at him, I can see he’s unraveling—sweat beads on his skin.

“Kiss me,” he rasps, desperate and undone.

I lean in, brushing my lips over his, teasing. But he surges up to claim them, devouring my mouth like he’s starving.

It’s all too much. My body is twisted tight and he’s thrusting faster, chasing his own release. On his next thrust, I shatter. I cry out in pleasure as wave after wave of orgasm pulses through me. He follows, growling as I feel his seed spill into me—warm and hot.

I collapse onto his chest, panting and spent. He wraps his arms around me, holding tight. “That was… incredible,” I rasp, trembling.

He brushes a strand of hair from my forehead, voice low and raw. “You’re perfect.” His fingers trace lazy, comforting circles down my spine.

Azrael rolls us carefully to the side, sliding out of me. His shadows pull one of the blankets from earlier over us, and he snuggles closer.

“Let me hold you. I’ve been dreaming about falling asleep with you in my arms for longer than I can remember,” he rasps.

I snuggle into his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him. I’ve become obsessed with it. His skin is soft and warm, and before I know it, I’m fighting to keep my eyes open as he caresses me.

“Go to sleep, Mercy. I promise I’ll still be here when you wake up.” His words are nothing more than a distant whisper.

I surrender to sleep quickly, feeling safe in Azrael’s arms—where no one and nothing can hurt me.

Hours later, I feel him lift me, blanket and all, and carry me from the library. My lashes flutter and I squint in the dark. Azrael’s voice is reassuring in my ear. “Sleep, darling. I’m only carrying you to bed.”

“Okay,” I answer, too tired to protest.

A short time later, I shiver as he transfers me from his arms to the cool sheets. “Stay and keep me warm,” I beg, reaching for him.

“Anything for you, angel.” He slips in next to me, warmth radiating from his body as he encircles me in his embrace.

“I love you, Azrael,” I mumble before instantly falling back to sleep.

I don’t even think—I just say it. And as the words leave me, I know there’s no taking them back. But I don’t want to.