Page 59 of The Pactbound Angel (The Soul Mirror Duet #1)

Ramiren gave a throaty growl in reply and only lapped harder with the flat of his tongue.

I murmured, begged, pleaded for him to fuck me, but he refused.

I told him I needed him, and still he would not relent.

The warmth and throbbing in my pussy was a torturous ache.

I started to peak again, and Ramiren slowed, as though he knew I was close to release.

I whimpered, my thighs scraping against the tips of his horns as his head moved between them.

My hand went into his hair, this time to grip it.

His lips wrapped around my clit. Just as he started sucking, the pressure released like a valve.

My back arched hard as I screamed, which continued long after I had run out of air in my lungs.

I bucked so hard against his face that the rasp of his beard sent a fresh wave of need through me.

I shuddered as his licks turned soft and let out a breathy, ragged moan. I could barely speak, the words coming out as more of a whisper, “ Please . I need you. ”

I’ve always needed you . Please don’t make me wait anymore.

Ramiren made a low, rough sound in his throat, vibrating his tongue, and my eyes rolled back.

Without warning, he grabbed my hips to pull me towards him on the bed.

His breathing was quiet but fast, and he looked down with an intensity that shot through me.

He swallowed, then lifted my hips to his.

The tip of his cock pressed into my entrance and stopped, his hands somehow supporting my weight.

I sucked in a breath then held it and waited.

I waited as patiently as I could. It might’ve been two seconds or two centuries. I couldn’t tell.

When he still didn’t move, I squirmed, trying to finish the job he’d started. He hissed, and I looked him full in the face. He was staring down at me, eyes wide and wild. I had no idea what he was doing. My held breath left me in a huff. “What are you-”

“ Don’t. Fucking. Move. ”

His forehead had a sheen to it, finger-touseled waves falling over it and sticking. His muscles were flexed and strained, though I didn’t think it was from holding me up. It was from holding himself back.

Fuck it.

I growled. “Ramiren, I swear, if you don’t fuck me right- ”

He bit off a curse and surged forward, entering me, cutting off my words with my own scream.

The sting of stretching was manageable, easily overshadowed by the blissful feeling of fullness.

He whispered in a strained exhale, “Holy fuck,” as his fingers bit into my hips.

He leaned forward, lowering me back on the bed.

When he put his weight on me, the glow in my chest radiated from my neck to my thighs.

I wrapped myself around his warm body as he gently began to thrust in and out of me, kissing and nipping at my shoulder.

When his cock delved even deeper, the stretching and fullness intensified until his hips were flush with mine, and I almost swallowed my tongue when I clenched around him.

He rolled his hips, grinding against my clit while running his right hand down my flank and under my ass. I wanted to cry. I felt like crying. Instead, I moaned softly, incapable of proper language.

My face turned to nuzzle his jaw and saw his own contorting with both strained arousal and tenderness.

My hands moved to either side of his face, and I crushed my mouth to his.

The snap of his hips quickened when his hand moved from under my ass to entangled in my hair and tilt my head just the way he wanted.

A soft whine escaped him, muffled in my mouth. Gods, that whine again…

He broke the kiss with a hoarse groan, planting his face firmly against my neck.

I could feel his canines grazing the skin, and something dark within me wanted him to bite down.

His hand released my hair and traveled down, ending at my breasts to cup and massage with kneading fingers.

He plucked the hardened nipple, and it felt like he’d plucked my clit.

I let out a shriek. Without warning, his movements became frantic and nearly uncontrolled while he murmured in a harsh language I didn’t understand.

The pressure began to build again, and when the first real throb hit, it combined with the stretch and delicious fullness into something divine, and somehow also profane.

My fingers roamed from his jaw to his hair, tugging and messing the dark waves.

CORDANI!

The voice screamed the word. I didn’t care if it was a hallucination. A word without context or definition, it was mine alone. Like Ramiren was now. Both precious to me.

I lifted his head by his hair, and my eyes bore into his as I rolled my hips in time with his grinding. He said something else in that harsh language, and though I didn’t know the words, I understood the meaning.

Joy and pain. Exhilaration and loss. Capturing something, then having to let it go.

He reared up to his knees, pulling me with him.

He lifted my ass off the bed again and held my hips as he drove into me.

He gulped in air, letting out a tortured groan.

His red eyes glowed faintly. Smoke curled off of his horns.

His canines lengthened. For a moment, I didn’t see a man staring down at me. I saw a devil.

But it didn’t frighten me. It was still Ramiren.

I shuddered, as though suddenly cold, then choked out a sobbing scream at what was happening.

There was a peak, but also a feeling of something intense and all-consuming unleashing itself, like it was leaving my body with a gentle but unstoppable force.

It was emotional and desperate, and I was experiencing too much. I felt him everywhere.

In the haze of my orgasm, I heard the voice again. But now, it was in my head. And had gained more words.

Cordani tro acta.

He fell back over me, hand tangling my hair again. “Gods, angel,” he whispered next to my ear, as though tormented and pained.

When I wrapped my arms around him fully.

It occurred to me my hands had never been on his back when he finished.

His muscles hardened under my palms, undulating with his body’s movements.

Ramiren let out a low growl, almost a warning.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck again and gripped my hair hard as he gave a keening scream.

His whole body shook over me. There was no pride or triumph, like I thought I would feel, at such a reaction from him. Merely a sense of deep satisfaction.

He continued to thrust into me long after, though noticeably slower and softer, as though he wanted to prolong the encounter. His rapid, heavy breathing began to ease.

Eventually, he slowed to a stop and silently lifted his head to look down at me. He was hoarse when he finally spoke with choked words. “Are you alright?” He frowned deeply, lifting his head higher. “You’re crying.” He released my hair, brushing his thumb across my damp temple.

I hadn’t even realized.

My only response was a crooked grin, and his frown vanished with a look of relief. The throb in my pussy morphed into an ache, and I knew deep down I would be very sore for my wedding.

I do not fucking care.

I bent his head down to kiss his forehead softly, then his cheek, then lips. Wispy kisses. I ran my fingertips over the shells of his ears and smiled. Wonderful contentment filled me, just as surely as he had.

I guess the poets were right .

There were a few long moments of silence, broken only by the sounds of breathing. Then, he rolled over to my side, sliding out of me, and immediately took me into his arms. I rested my head on his shoulder and felt his heart still beating erratically when I placed my hand on his chest.

Finally, I broke the silence, “When are you leaving for the grove?”

He held me tighter. “Don’t do that. Not now,” he said quietly into my hair.

I pursed my lips. “Are you attending the wedding?”

He let out a harsh breath. “No. I will not, but I’ll not leave until I hear bells ringing.”

Unsurprising, but the idea made my chest ache so much I had trouble breathing. My hand went there and rubbed to ease the pain.

“Are you alright?” He lifted his head slightly to look down at me with stark concern.

“Hm? Yes, I’m alright.” I put my hand back on his chest, splaying my fingers. I breathed with him, and the ache went away after a few moments.

There was a quiet pause, before it was broken by a whisper, “Why are you marrying him, Nathalia?”

I hid my face in the crook of his neck, my words muffled, “Because I gave my word.”

Ramiren’s hand went into my hair. “Is he worth your word?”

I replied coldly, “He has to be.”

I could feel myself drifting off to sleep. Tomorrow, I would marry, but tonight I had what I wanted.

The next morning, I awoke alone in a cold bed. I curled up and began to weep, and I didn’t know exactly why.