Page 54 of What Whispers in the Dark (Promises of the Marked)

A moan ruptured from her. Echoing across the porch pillars, the trees, the lake, the mountains.

The veins in Garrik’s forearms swelled as he at last slipped a finger inside and curled it, brushing along that spot that had her forgetting everything but his name. Setting a smooth, steady pace. Swirling and swirling and swirling with the other. Coaxing her to that sweet, fragile edge.

Garrik kissed her again as she rocked against him, urging him faster—so much faster.

“You are all I can think about,” he rasped thickly.

“You consume me.” And gritted out, “Every time I sink into you … every time I get to do this…” Slowly, slowly , he eased in another finger.

Pumped them. Again and again. Until she was certain starflames would burst from her.

“I do not think this will ever stop—how I feel about you. How intensely, severely I love you. The stars could not offer me peace in eternity to make me stop.”

His words—by every cursed star in the sky— his words.

She choked out a sob.

Embers flickered around her, threatening flames.

And she was hopeless to stop it as his love washed over her in ruthless, relentless swells.

Like a world-ending burst of his magic and hers, like tortured souls and unending devotion collided, an unbridled moan ripped from her as release barreled down her spine and she shattered on his fingers.

Rapturous and delirious as he stroked her through each blissful wave, she strained against her binds, every inch of her burning and taut, shuddering beneath him so violently she wasn’t sure her starfire hadn’t exploded.

He may have been speaking. May have called her name or chanted it against her flesh as he kissed up her skin like he was determined to worship every last inch of her.

But she couldn’t think past needing him.

Now. Needing to unspool everything she felt for him—the undiluted love and devotion and reckless abandon…

Garrik withdrew his fingers, pinning her with dilated orbs of silver as he lifted them to his mouth and sucked them inside.

Tasting her. Devouring her very essence from his flesh with a groan so primal it nearly set her on fire.

“You taste like starsdamned temptation , clever girl,” he groaned, curling his tongue around his fingers, one by one, lapping up every last drop.

“I am hopeless against you. Fucking addicted for another sip.”

She was done waiting.

Darkness stormed inside her wedding ring the moment she called to his powers within the stone— hers to command.

The shadows around her wrists burst off them.

Unleashing herself on him, Alora surged forward and pulled him to her lips—tasting herself as his tongue swirled along the roof of her mouth.

Claiming her just as wild and rapturous while her hands roved down his solid chest.

They were all tongue and teeth and groans. Nothing else existed. Not even the clarity of where she ended and he began.

“You have ruined me. You are that powerful.” Garrik rasped between kisses. “I have lost who I was because of you. I swear to every damned star in the sky, don’t you ever fucking stop.” His hand plunged into her hair, curled around her neck.

Ruined him—ruined him ? He ruined her. And she wasn’t sure she’d survive without another taste.

She couldn’t think; couldn’t focus. Every nerve in her body was on fire. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this.” Everything about him was perfect. She was going to make certain he felt it.

Her fingers found the leather of his belt. Teased the metal.

Stars , his lips—his incredible, intoxicating lips?—

Wood cracked. Splintered and shattered.

She could have died the moment Garrik ripped his head from her, his muscled chest heaving, body trembling. Those silvery eyes sealed the moment he pulled her forehead to his. Voice shaking, admitting, “If I do not practice control, I will destroy you.”

She made a choked sound. A sound of shameful protest.

“I want you so fucking badly, I do not think I can control myself right now. Every time I so much as touch you— see you.” But less eventful filled her mind a moment later, echoing in the sound of his voice. If he kept going now … if he lost control …

The very last thing he wanted was her in pain; she knew that—felt it in the way he cradled her face and braced his hand on the ruined settee back, cracking more wood underneath the force of his restraint.

Garrik swayed backward to meet the sapphire of her eyes. Something gleamed in his as shadows danced around her, resettling her sweater and leggings. He stroked her cheek. Smiled the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen.

“I wish I had an eternity to spend with you. Not only doing this”—he brushed a hair behind her ear and pressed into her with his hips—“but being with you. Watching you smile. Hearing your perfect heartbeat. Your voice, your laugh. Being my lover. My counsel and my friend.”

They would—she swore it, “We will.” Either there or in death, and long after that.

“There is very little I would not do for you, you know. To deny you would be like denying my heart to beat.”

Alora didn’t doubt that for a second. She could ask him to set himself aflame, and he would suffer the burn until she extinguished the flames. She’d do the same for him.

He continued, “So, I ask you again. What do you want to do today?”

She couldn’t come up with anything other than finishing what they’d started on that settee.

Garrik sighed, the sound amused and defeated. “Rest first. At least for a few hours. Then, my dear wife, you can decide which part of me you wish to enjoy.”

Alora produced a sly grin. “What if I wish for you on your knees?”

His growl thrummed in the air between them. “I am not a male abashed to lower myself before his queen. If you wish to have me begging, then I gladly offer myself in wait for your command.”

“And if … I wanted you to chase me?”

His answer was quick. “Then I will be your predator.”

“And…” She trailed her finger along his belt to the snaps and ties of his pants.

Along the bulge, sinful and steely, begging to be released.

“What if … I wanted to be the one kneeling?” The admission surprised her.

Though she had toyed with the idea for a while, she hadn’t yet sunk before him and willingly gave that piece of herself, pleasuring him with her mouth … not since Kaine’s mistreatment.

But the idea of looking up at him with eager eyes, tasting him, worshiping his body—the body he so fervently denied was deserving—would heal something in her, and perhaps in him, too.

She could’ve sworn pride swelled across his gorgeous face as he argued, “We both know where that would lead.” Garrik brushed a finger along her lips. The very thing she wished to be slipped between them thickened. “And I believe that to be the opposite of what I mentioned. You need rest.”

Less eventful, he had said.

“Are you sure it’s my stamina that is in question? You’re the one who was up all night.”

He leveled her a glare.

She huffed, supposing she could surrender this time.

But on second thought …

Garrik must have seen that hint of mischief in her sapphires. Must have found some pleasure in it because his grin twisted into something entirely sinister. Wicked. “You going to defy me, darling?” And warned when the mischief in her eyes deepened, “Try me.”

Alora’s eyes ignited with embers at the challenge.

He pinned her with his stare; his voice rumbled like a volcano, so low, so full of timber. Dropping an octave and thrumming straight through her sanity to pulse between her legs. “Or are you going to be a good girl for me?”

Stars. Damn. Him.

If she were standing, her knees would have buckled.

No one should be able to wield that kind of power with their voice. A voice she would crawl for if ever asked. A voice that the entire realm would crumble to and serve on their knees.

Bracing her hands on his waist, her attention skittered over her shoulder to anything that could steady her aching nerves …

when an idea surfaced. A suggestive smirk crossed her face, and breathless, Alora said, “I think”—she pressed a finger into his chest, and Garrik hovered back an inch, yielding to her—“that you will need to catch me to find out.”

Blinding light erupted.

Blazing white heat tore between them as her entire body reformed of starflames, licking her up until Garrik fell on the empty settee cushions in her place.

Alora stepped out of her firestorm on their porch, inches in front of the front steps—she’d meant to go further, but with so little success in training …

With a coaxing grin, her flames fully receded, and steam danced from her shoulders. She slipped her heel backward, toward the edge.

Something wild flashed in his eyes as he whipped his head over his shoulder, beholding her.

Then, Airatheldra … the dawning sun … it darkened.

Smokeshadows whorled around him, ripping him from where she’d left him and leaving nothing but a tendril of shadow to prove he had existed.

Then. Cold.

Icy, frigid cold. It pressed into her like a solid wall as shadows inched up her legs like souls escaping Firekeeper’s realm.

Solid hands spun her to face Airatheldra’s horizon and pulled her against his front, caging her against him.

From the border of her vision, gray hair waved in the breeze moments before his icy breath murmured against her ear, “Then, clever girl … you better start running.”

And she did—fast and without turning to see if he chased.

Straight for the lake and its shores and the dock?—

But Garrik’s shadows were faster. Appearing before her with raw power that made her very bones shiver in a fury of excitement and awestruck fear. Made her slide to a stop mere strides in front of him.

“That’s cheating,” she snarled at him. Vicious and playful. Determined. An edge settled in her eyes.