Page 38 of The King has Fallen (The Kingdom of the Krow #1)

SOUNDTRACK: Burn by Corvyx

~ YILAN ~

I had feared this moment, avoided it for years. Fought to keep myself apart from any man that wanted me because deep down I had known that I would lose myself in a bond.

Soulbond chosen by God, or forgedbond chosen by me, it wouldn’t matter.

I’d always known that something in me yearned to find the man who would make me surrender. But, before Melek, I’d never yet met the man who inspired that in me. And I’d worried that if I gave myself, I’d surrender to the wrong one.

Melek was a shock. A stunning surprise. Impossible, hopeless, perfect.

And when the moment came, for the first time in my life, the fear was gone. Surrender no longer shrieked at me from the dark. Instead, it was light and warmth that curled and beckoned.

Mate.

Soulbond.

Mine.

I could no longer deny it. And so, I gave myself up.

For better, or worse, he was mine and I was his.

Neither of our lives would ever be the same.

As he dropped to cover me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his free hand cupping the back of my neck and descending with a groan that seemed to start in his toes, I gasped his name and threw my free hand around his neck, grasping the tail of his warrior’s length and pulling him to me as all thoughts of any other male were blown from my mind like smoke in the wind… and I gave myself over. Forever.

“Please, Melek,” I gasped. “I want you. Just… just be gentle.”

He groaned and dove for my mouth, his plunging tongue a tantalizing taste, of what was to come.

“Hold onto me,” he rasped. “Don’t let go.”

I nodded quickly, then threw my free arm around his shoulders, burying my face in his thick neck and clinging as he nudged at me once, then again, teasing, and stealing my breath.

“Yilan—”

“Yes,” I gasped. “Yes!”

Still rolling his hips, still sliding against me, still nudging at my core, tainting with the slightest push into me, he leaned up on his elbows and dropped his forehead to mine, our eyes locking, mouths open.

His tongue darted out to tease under my lip as he nudged at me again—an inch, this time—and the first hint of the fullness of him dropped my jaw. Nerves fighting sheer need.

“I’m here,” he rasped, squeezing my hand where we were bound, and cupping the other over my head. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t.”

“Oh, God… Yilan,” he groaned, then rocked his hips, sliding up and into me another inch, slowly, his body quivering and his grip on my hand so tight our knuckles rolled against each other.

Pleasure on the edge of pain ignited there where we joined as my body began to stretch, but then he let go of a shuddering breath and pulled slowly out, leaving me trembling in his wake, hollow, needy.

“Don’t stop,” I gasped.

He groaned and dropped his head, taking my mouth, then graveling my name as he dropped his free hand to grip my hip and hold me.

Then he lifted his head, opened his eyes and stared down at me, his warrior’s length splaying over his shoulder as, mouth open and eyes bright with need and torment, he quickly thrust into me, filling me, stretching me, breaking through that barrier, reaching the places within me that no man had ever touched.

I cried out, arched, clawing into his back and gasping, overwhelmed with the perfect pleasure of joining with him—but unnerved by that clang of pain that promised more because I knew he still hadn’t given me everything he had.

Shuddering, Melek threw his free hand back up to my head, then froze, dropping his face to the pillow next to mine, his shoulders heaving… but he didn’t withdraw.

He took most of his own weight on one elbow so he wouldn’t crush me, but leaned into me enough to press me down into that mattress. His body rippled as a shudder rocked through him, but he still didn’t move.

I was gasping, clinging, blinking as he panted into the pillow next to me, swallowing hard, his hand over my head now fisting my hair and keeping me in place.

“Yilan… are you well?” he croaked a moment later, his voice muffled by the pillow.

I nodded quickly. “I am. I am. I… I want you, Melek.”

He huffed. “You have me, beautiful. Trust me.”

A splutter of a laugh broke from me and my body tightened around him and he tensed, and it was the strangest sensation to feel him within me—to feel him react to my body. To be… consumed.

Melek’s fingers tightened in my hair. Then he muttered a curse and pushed up on his elbows again to meet my eyes and I almost wept at the creases beside his eyes, the empathy and concern shadowing his beautiful, bright gaze.

“Catch your breath,” he whispered, stroking my hair with his thumb. “Just breathe.”

I couldn’t look away from those eyes, and I lifted my hand from his back to hold his face, stunned by the incredible intimacy of feeling joined with him. How even that small movement let me feel the way my flesh gripped him, and yet moved with him.

My heart pounded, my blood was alight. And my body… my body wanted more.

We stared at each other and I wondered if he looked into the depths of my eyes and saw the future stretching out before us as I did.

And then, I smiled. “I want more, Melek,” I whispered.

The corners of his eyes crinkled and his eyes lit with joy. “More of what?”

“More of you,” I admitted, embarrassed and overjoyed in the same breath. “All of you.”

He blew out a breath. “Are you certain? It is your first time and—”

“You’re my mate,” I said, suddenly shy at the admission, and yet unable to look away, and so I was blessed to see his eyes dance. “I want everything.”

A deep, satisfied rumble began in his chest, vibrating against my sensitive nipples and I bit my lip, my breath picking up again.

“I don’t know why God made you for me,” he graveled, still stroking my hair with his thumb. “But I am very grateful that he did.”

He leaned in and kissed me again, trembling under my hands, then whispered in my ear. “Hold onto me, Love.”

With a little sob of joy, I gripped the back of his neck as he began to draw out of me, but instead of leaving me entirely, he only retreated inches, then tilted his hips and pressed into me again.

A cry broke in my throat without my permission. But before I could even inhale, he did it again, drawing out of me, then thrusting back in, taking another inch, and then another. And even though pain sang within me, it was overwhelmed by the wave of pleasure that every movement ignited in my flesh.

He dropped his head, his breath panting, rushing over my shoulder, beginning to sweat as he plunged deeper, and deeper. With each new thrust I was lost to anything but the sensation of him. Of the fullness of him, of the way my body stretched and reached and fizzed with pleasure for him. And then he gave a deep cry into the pillow as I felt him reach fully within me, and I was gasping with him. All of him.

He trembled as he drew out of me then, and for a moment I wanted to weep, my body aching to be so fully with him again—until he graveled my name and thrust again. Then he didn’t stop.

His body, so large and strong, rippled like a snake. That hand, so calloused and capable, stroked my skin with a deep tenderness that brought tears to my eyes. And as he moved and called for me, as he gave in to the whispered cries and tormented groans, my pleasure grew and bloomed, my soul opening like a flower until we moved as one, and it was impossible to know where I stopped and he began.

My head was back, jaw slack, breath tearing in and out of my throat. When he drew out I could think of nothing but to have him back, and when he thrust into me, I could think of nothing but again.

Pleasure and need glowed on the horizon of my mind, like a rising sun, glimmering, igniting, turning everything gold.

I was gasping, panting, calling his name, fighting to keep my voice quiet as he picked up the pace and his great body shuddered and uncoiled for me.

He shook and groaned, his body steel, but his touch sweet silk. My name on his lips was a plea, a benediction. And every sound, every sensation pushed me closer to that horizon, made the sun burn brighter, and the wave rocking through me break harder.

I was shaking, whimpering, clinging, stretching within and without—clawing for that promise of pleasure, desperate and unable to think of anything else when Melek pushed up on his elbows, mouth open, jaw slack, eyes locked on mine and he groaned. “Come for me, Yilan—beautiful… come for me.”

The deep roll of his voice, the desperation in his tone, and the sight of his massive body shivering with pleasure sent a bolt of pleasure through me that reached a place deep inside I’d never felt before.

I shattered.

“Mele—!”

His hand clapped over my mouth as my body bowed and I crested that wave, tumbled into the hot sun, plunged into pleasure that washed from deep within me, through my veins, into my skin, raising every hair on my body and stealing every breath, every thought.

With a gasp and a “Oh fuck, yes!” Melek pulled out of me, then plunged back in and pushed that wave higher, deeper, pushing me completely over the top… and my body gripped him so tightly, he was yanked over the edge with me.

The roar that tore out of him was so loud it vibrated in my body as he pulled out and thrust, pulled out and thrust, his body twitching and jerking, completely out of control. As my orgasm eased away, I watched him in awe, so abandoned, so unleashed… for me.

And then, with a groan, he slumped, catching himself as he covered me, clamping that free hand on the pillow and taking his own weight so that he wouldn’t crush me as we lay there, tangled and sweaty, both of us panting.

He leaned his forehead on mine, locking eyes with me as our panting breaths mingled, and he stared at me, wide-eyed and trembling.

“Yilan… I… love you,” he rasped.

I sobbed. Tears pricked my eyes, though I didn’t know why because I’d never been happier. And yet, the moment those words were spoken I could feel the profound shift happening within me—and within him.

The pressure building in my chest. The rumble as if a great weight was moving towards me, picking up momentum as it rolled down on me.

And then, as my pulse throbbed in every part of me—but especially where we joined—and my blood flared and fizzed, and suddenly that space in my chest that had been so tangled and vulnerable, so open and so filled by him, began to contract—first only a tug, a pressure… but pressing into pain and leaving me gasping.

“Yilan, beautiful!” he croaked, clinging to me, pulling me against him, our bodies curling together as we were rocked from within—spiraling, rushing power that expanded my ribs, stilled my heart, and threatened to suffocate me.

“Melek—what’s happening?” I wheezed, clinging to him.

“Mine,” he growled, curling that hand over my head again, covering me with his bulk and pulling his knees up to curl me into the cavity of his body. “ You cannot take her, she is mine!”

I closed my eyes, trying desperately to inhale as it felt like my body was pummeled, clawed. As if an enemy had descended and threatened to pull me from Melek’s grip. His hand bound to mine squeezed and pressed, grounding both of us as he twitched, grunting, holding me as tightly as if he fought for me, as if the unseen enemy tried to tear us apart—and he would not allow it.

“NO!” he snarled. “She is mine!” he roared and wrapped himself around me, lifting my hips off the bed, pulling me up into his lap so we could not be separated, embracing me with his free arm and covering me with his body, trembling, growling, flinching as if he were taking blows.

I gasped his name, clinging to him with my free arm, confused and afraid, but utterly unwilling to be apart from him, shaking my head and holding so tightly I feared I would bruise his ribs.

And then, as quickly as it started, that sensation was gone.

We were left, Melek kneeling, curled over me, holding me, covering me, both of us panting.

I could breathe again, thank God.

I wasn’t sure how long we lay there catching our breaths and blinking back to reality, but eventually he sighed heavily and lifted his head to look at me, without moving away.

“Are you… well?” he whispered, then pushed a strand of hair back from my face.

I nodded, clamping my hand to the back of his neck. “What was that?”

I was almost crushed as Melek took a massive breath, then let it out and shook his head.

“I don’t know who you are, or why, Yilan… but Lucifer himself did not want us to complete that bond.”

I blinked. “Wait… what?!”

Melek shook his head again and sighed. “I don’t understand any more than you do. But that was the power of the dark coming for you.” His eyes took on a gleam and he cupped my face. “But I will not let it take you. Ever.”

Then he kissed me as if my breath was oxygen.

And I kissed him just as desperately in return. So deeply that my skin began to prickle again.

Melek had just groaned and rolled to his side, pulling me with him, murmuring about needing me again soon when the tent flap snapped aside.

Melek jerked and his wings appeared, one snapping open to fold over me as he pushed up, ready to throw himself against whoever had appeared—but then he froze, his eyes wide and mouth open.

I couldn’t see beyond his wing, but I heard Jann’s voice clear as day. And there wasn’t an ounce of the sunny friendship, or flirty warmth he usually brought into this tent. His voice was dark, hushed, and angry.

“Seriously, Mel? You actually took her? Seriously?”