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Chapter twenty-nine

D imitri’s lashes lowered as he uncurled his wings. The metallic taste of Astrid’s blood clung to his lips and sang on his tongue. Sharper than her soul. Sweeter. Binding .

She was his. By right of conquest. Bound to him before Vinceret himself.

He lifted her against him, forcing her legs around his waist. His neva jerked when her ass touched the cold, obsidian altar.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

Dimitri prowled closer, invading her space until she leaned back on her palms. His gaze lowered to the place where his collared shirt folded to a point between her full breasts.

Then, drifted lower, to the junction of her toned thighs.

Her makeshift dress did nothing to cover her.

Dimitri admired the radiant gleam of more than a dozen diamonds decorating her piercing.

“Fucking my wife,” Dimitri purred, meeting her midnight eyes. “Now, lift your knees.”

Astrid turned on her hip and Dimitri caught her ankle before she could get far. He dragged her back to him, spreading her legs wider. He pinned her waist and drove two fingers into her cunt.

His neva squirmed, grasping his wrist in attempt to stop him. “This is a temple.”

“Vinceret won’t mind,” Dimitri said with a grin. He thrusted into her harder, working that little spot he’d discovered inside her that made her scream his name. Her thighs constricted over his waist with bruising force. She was so desperate to pull her legs together. To get away from him.

“Come for me, neva,” Dimitri crooned, stretching her to take another finger. A flush spread over her cheeks and bloomed down her throat. “I feel you tightening over my fingers. Stop fighting it.”

Astrid tossed her head, fanning her dark strands over the obsidian altar. Craven, beautiful, and his. She panted beneath him, instinctively rocking in time to his hand.

Her lids fluttered and she stared up at Vinceret as though he might save her. “There are priests here,” she breathed.

Dimitri bent over her but sustained his harsh rhythm. “They won’t return,” he murmured against her throat. His lips met her skin, and he savored the lingering kiss of salt from her perspiration.

With her fingers tangled through his hair, she asked, “How do you know?”

A grin bloomed over Dimitri’s lips, and he moved lower. “Because if anyone looked upon my wife’s naked body,” he said, exposing her exquisite breasts. “I would revoke the privilege of their existence.”

“I’m not your wife.”

Astrid’s words breathed into a moan as his teeth clamped over the tight peak. She fisted his hair, tugging the strands taut and pulling him closer. Her scent of honey and wildflowers surrounded him, coalescing with the heated notes of her arousal.

Dimitri kissed the hurt and his princess shuddered. He licked and sucked, lifting his eyes to hers.

“You wear my clothes,” he said, gliding the backs of his fingers up her thigh. He found her piercing and teased her clit. A strangled cry slipped from her, and she arched her back high off the altar.

“You eat from my hand,” he reminded her as he unfastened his slacks.

A low growl rumbled from him as the head of his cock met the wet heat of her cunt.

He thrust inside with a long, hard stroke.

On the second, Astrid trembled beneath him.

Her greedy cunt squeezed, and Dimitri groaned, letting his head fall back. “And you come on my cock.”

He spread her legs wider with his wings and dug his fingers into her waist. She took each thrust, writhing for him.

Her nails raked over his chest and left crescents in his shoulders, drawing him closer.

He fucked her, jarring her lithe body with each thrust, waiting for the next orgasm to crash through her.

“You, neva,” he more groaned than said, nipping at the tapered point of her ear as she came beneath him, “are whatever I say you are.”

Astid blinked when Dimitri pulled out. The obsidian still chilled her back, an ever-present reminder of the sacrilege they’d committed.

Dimitri flipped her onto her stomach and captured her wrists in one hand. Astrid yanked against his hold viciously but stilled when the length of his cock slid between her ass cheeks.

Mothers save me. He’s still hard.

Astrid glanced back at him and pointed at the ominous, hooded statue. “Not here. Dimitri, your actions will offend your god.”

He chuckled and leaned over her, grinding his cock into her backside. “I’ve long neglected the temples and sermons. I should have brought an offering weeks ago,” he said, drawing her hands forward until she was bent over the altar with her arms outstretched. “Your orgasms will be my tribute, wife.”

“Take me back to bed, my lord.” Anywhere but this huge temple, where anyone could stroll in.

“Keep your hands on the altar,” Dimitri rasped, flattening her palms to the hard surface, “and I won’t make you beg me to fuck your ass slower.”

His hands released hers and Astrid contemplated a dozen scenarios. Running would only delay the inevitable. She could scream, but her cries would only draw an audience—one Dimitri might not mind fucking her in front of.

Astrid slid her palms closer and straightened, pressing her back against the unyielding planes of Dimitri’s chest.

“It’s cold. Wrap me in your wings,” she breathed.

His voice was a low rumble as he enveloped her and the altar both in the warmth of his gray wings. “I thought you hated my wings, neva.”

She did, but if her only other option was having her naked body on display while he fucked her… Astrid learned in that moment she would take the wings.

He tucked the end of her dress into her golden lotus belt, then shifted his wing to keep her covered while he retrieved a thin, silver vessel. “Spread your legs.”

Astrid obeyed and Dimitri trailed kisses down the back of her neck. He reached between her legs and toyed with her piercing before focusing his attention on her clit.

“You’re so wet for me,” Dimitri purred.

Astrid shut out his voice. The sooner he came, the sooner this would be over. Astrid closed her eyes and craned her neck back toward him. Her lips met his in a soft kiss. Then another. His scent coiled around her, earthy but crisp, like snow falling in a forest with the barest hint of pine.

She opened to him, sucking on his tongue as he licked into her mouth. Pleasure thrummed beneath her skin as he claimed her mouth. She rocked into his hand behind her, needing more friction.

Dimitri groaned, then acquiesced, thrusting two fingers into her cunt.

Astrid’s lids fluttered, and she arched her back, giving him greater access.

She took him deeper, focusing on the sensation of touch—his kiss and the way his hands moved.

He stopped playing with her clit and added a third finger.

Astrid pushed against him, taking each stroke.

The tension within her pulled taut, as each thrust pushed her closer to the orgasm that threatened to break her. She scarcely registered when Dimitri poured oil over her ass and moaned when his fingertips returned to her clit.

His fingers left her and Astrid arched her back, silently begging him to fuck her. His touch returned, higher this time, circling her ass. Astrid stood on her toes, unable to escape him as he pressed inside. He fingered her ass slow while he mercilessly teased her clit.

Astrid broke their kiss and leaned forward onto his wings. Shame twisted her pleasure. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t come for him. Not like this. Not with what he was doing to her.

“Give yourself to me,” he rasped.

Astrid said nothing. His wings tightened around her, drawing her near.

“Come for me,” Dimitri crooned, “because you’re mine .”

Astrid panted as he stroked a second finger inside her.

“Because I want every part of you,” he murmured.

Astrid curled her night-streaked nails around the thick edge of the obsidian as the tension in her snapped. Pleasure crashed over her, so intense she trembled. Astrid drowned in the sensations cascading over her senses, one after the next.

She wasn’t sure how long Dimitri held her there.

When he finally withdrew from her, she sagged against the frame of his wings.

They lowered, but remained folded beneath her as she laid bent over the altar.

His death magic then washed over her. Gentle, yet claiming, echoing remnants of her orgasm until she was coming again.

Astrid gripped the heavy bones of his wings as the broad tip of his cock touched her ass. She held on as he stretched her; panted as he fucked her with the tip until she was moaning and rocking her hips to take him deeper.

“I’ll never tire of the way your soul tastes,” he growled, taking her in longer strokes.

His magic rippled over her and Astrid’s pleasure spiked to ecstasy. He was drinking her soul, but with the haze blanketing her mind, she couldn’t remember why she should fight it.

“Pinch your nipples for me.”

Astrid obeyed his purring voice and was rewarded with a groan.

“Harder. Tug on them.”

“Dimitri,” Astrid breathed against his wing.

Astrid moaned as his fingertips bruised her hips. He took her in a harsh rhythm, and she arched her back, in need of more. Wanting more. She sighed his name, and his cock twitched. His grip tightened and he thrusted into her a final time, coming inside her.