Page 17

The word, the plea, was the final key turning in the lock.

The last barrier crumbled. A dark, triumphant satisfaction flared in Serrik's eyes.

He lowered his head, his lips finding the pulse point at her throat again, not biting this time, but tasting her skin, inhaling the scent of her surrender, while his fingers finally slipped beneath the lace, finding her heat, her wetness, claiming the very core of her being as his own.

Ava cried out, a long, keening sound of pleasure.

Mine.

Ava couldn’t think.

There was only him.

And the sensations around her.

The feeling of his hands on her body. Of his fingers at her core, effortlessly bringing her to ecstasy, again and again, crying out his name until it was a broken, breathless sob. But still the ache wouldn’t go away. The deep, desperate, need deep inside her body that wouldn’t stop.

Suddenly, she was in his arms. The golden threads binding her to the table were gone, and he was carrying her. She didn’t know where, at first—the venom clouding her mind left everything a blur.

“You are mine, little butterfly,” he murmured into her ear. “All mine...no one else’s, do you understand?”

“Yes…” It was another breathless exhale. When he set her down on her feet, she would have nearly toppled over if it weren’t for his strong hands holding her upright. He stripped off her clothes—first her shirt, her bra, then her jeans and her underwear .

She would have helped, but everything was a muddled mess.

The warmth was how she realized he had brought her to the fireplace and placed her down on the thick carpet in front of the burning wood.

He turned her back to him. She felt so small, so helpless—so powerless.

And she reveled in it.

He pulled her flush to his chest, his hands grasping her breasts and kneading them roughly.

Moaning, she arched, pressing her body into his grasp. “Harder?—”

“Patience,” he snarled, before painfully pinching both of her nipples between his fingers, granting her wish.

It was perfection. But it still wasn’t what she needed. It was like the time she broke her ankle and her bones were knitting—she had an itch she couldn’t scratch, and it had driven her nearly insane.

She needed him.

And it was going to kill her if she didn’t get it now. “Serrik, please…”

“Kneel, butterfly…”

Without hesitation, she obeyed, kneeling on the carpet with her back to him. She watched the dancing flames, feeling the warmth wash over her body—hypnotized by it all.

He was behind her then, a hand on her back, bending her forward. Her cheek met the carpet, and she shut her eyes, chewing on her lower lip.

Yes. Dear god, yes. “Serrik…”

“Say you are mine.” His hands stroked over the globes of her ass, once more exploring her. “Say you belong only to me. That no other shall touch you.”

“Yes—I’m yours—please, Serrik?—”

“Say no other shall touch you.”

“No one will, please ? —”

He pressed against her entrance. Finally. Yes, yes, please ? —

The snarl behind her was feral. Raw. Inhuman. The beast in him was finally going to be set free upon her.

And what pressed inside of her did not belong to a human.

Ridges slipped into her as he slowly, but firmly, pressed himself deeper into her. Each one made a snap of pleasure crack up her spine like a pop of electricity, unexpected and sudden. She jolted with each one, letting out a startled gasp.

Serrik held onto her hips with one hand, his other hand pressing into the carpet next to her head. Through grunts of pleasure, he whispered encouragement. “That’s it, Ava…that’s it. You are doing wonderfully…”

Through the haze of the venom, she realized why. Why he’d bitten her.

Not only was he shaped strangely, but he was huge—not just in length but in girth, stretching her more than other men had. But it didn’t hurt. She shuddered beneath him, at how every strange sensation, every ounce of him, sent ripples of ecstasy through her.

It felt like nothing else she’d ever experienced in her life. And all she wanted was more.

There was a swell in him that curved up in such a way that he pressed against a spot in her that she didn’t even know was there. Every nerve in her body lit up, and she clung to the carpet, wailing, crying out his name in the sudden and immediate climax that hit her.

Serrik growled loudly above her. Through gritted teeth, he moaned out. “Yes, yes Ava—yes—by all the stars, you feel—you feel amazing…”

Still, somehow, there was more left of him.

He rolled his hips forward as soon as her muscles relaxed enough for him to do so.

She was so tempted to feel what was in her.

She tried to reach her hand down between them, but he grabbed her wrists and pulled them up over her head.

More of those threads wound around them, tight and thin, and held them in place.

“Damn you, Ava. Damn you, my beautiful little Weaver.” With one hard snap of his hips, he sank himself finally to the hilt .

The action had her seeing spots. She felt every ounce of him inside her.

Every ridge. The way he pressed up into her.

The way he throbbed. And he was hot inside her, way more than normal.

It had her clenching tight around him again just from him being there, pressing into her.

She lifted her hips and pressed back, wanting him deeper—wanting more of the wonderful ache, the phenomenal stretch.

It was bliss.

There had to be more.

“Please, Serrik—” Now she really was whining. “I need you to fu—” Her plea broke off in a gasp as he answered it.

And then some.

Ava didn’t know what it was like to have an Unseelie fae make love to her. Or…whatever it was that they called what they were doing. But as he began to pummel her, pulling out almost all the way before ramming back in with all the force of a piston in an engine, the world became nothing but him.

All she could think of was him.

The beautiful monster above her.

When she could breathe, when she could form words, it was yes, and Serrik, and more, and harder.

When he upped his tempo, his own pleasure clearly about to overcome him, she couldn’t even form words anymore. She just devolved into mewling cries as he pistoned mercilessly, making her feel like she was being hollowed out to suit his needs.

Yes. Reshape me. Make me yours. I’m yours. The thoughts swirled through her mind as he rammed himself deeper inside of her body.

He bent over her, pinning her down roughly, roaring out his release.

Feeling something nearly as hot as lava fill her was enough to send her crashing over that peak again, crying out his name.

It was bliss. And it was agony.

And it was perfect.

When she could process any kind of sensation again, she was lying on her back on the carpet, and Serrik was kissing her. Stroking her cheek in tenderness, and whispering words to her between his kisses that she couldn’t quite hold on to.

Exhaustion was now filling the space that adrenaline and lust had vacated.

And true sleep was coming for her fast.

Serrik kissed his butterfly as she lay, spent, in his arms. She would vanish as soon as she disappeared into sleep.

She was beautiful—so utterly flawless. Her skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. Her neck was bruised with the slightest punctures from his fangs. Her radiant expression was that of a well-loved woman.

A shame none of it would last into the waking world.

He smoothed a hand over her body. A body he had claimed—because she had given it.

For now.

A claim he had staked while she was under duress was an invalid one. A child’s game of capture-the-hill, nothing more. One she would be right to challenge once her faculties had returned.

He would not argue against the logic, should she seek to raise it. A promise of dominance under the influence of his venom was not one worth keeping—even he had the honor to recognize that.

But he could not help it. He had wanted to hear her say the words, even if they were a lie. He had been desperate for them. He doubted she would even remember saying them, come the morrow.

The same way he was certain she would not remember the words he whispered to her now, as real sleep came to whisk her away from his embrace.

“Ava Cole, my Weaver, my little butterfly…”

“Mmmh… ”

He smiled faintly at how very annoyed she sounded. Reaching up a hand, he gently stroked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I believe I love you.”