Granted, Elyria’s continuous denial of this thing between them might have left something to be desired, but at this moment, Cedric could not possibly have cared less.
Not with her mouth on him, her tongue swirling around his tip, warm and wet and so fucking?—
Cedric groaned, heat already building at the base of his spine as he threaded his fingers through her soft periwinkle strands. And then his hand was being whipped away, moved by a force other than his own will, slamming down onto the bedspread.
“Tsk, tsk. I said no touching.”
Cedric looked down at his wrists, at the shadowsbinding his hands to the bed. Lightly, he tested their hold—the ribbons of smoke were feather soft against his skin, but their grip was like steel. His flame sparked deep in his chest, reminding him that if he really wanted to, he could burn through her shadows, could free himself. He’d done it before.
But why would he want to?
“Good boy,” Elyria said, a smirk playing on those perfect lips before they parted and she took his full length into her mouth.
Cedric bit the inside of his cheek—so hard he tasted copper on his tongue—to keep himself from coming entirely undone right then.
Noctis take me straight to the fourth quarter if I come that quickly, he thought with a shudder, though he couldn’t be sure if it was from the thought of that less-than-desirable outcome or just a physical reaction to the warmth of Elyria’s mouth, the expert movements of her tongue.
She had no idea what she did to him.
Or maybe she did. Maybe she relished the torture. It did seem a favorite pastime of hers.
Her gaze flicked up as she withdrew from him, her emerald eyes sparkling with wicked delight. Wicked, and yet...there was something soft there too. Vulnerable. Honest.
Elyria placed several quick, deliberate kisses down the length of him before grazing her teeth against him with a careful pressure. The sensation had Cedric nearly bucking off the bed, pulling at his shadowy restraints.
Her smile was downright cruel when she pulled away, sitting back on her ankles to appraise Cedric with a tilt of her head.
“You seem uncomfortable, Sir Knight,” she purred. “Should I stop?” Even as she said the words, she dipped her head again to trail a path with her tongue across his inner thigh, then nipped at the sensitive skin there.
Cedric hardly recognized himself in the feral groan that surged from him. “I’m—fuck—I’m perfectly comfortable.”
Her grin sharpened. “Well, isn’t that a shame? I rather like to see you squirm.”
And four hells, it really seemed she did. Because as Cedric jerked once more against the bind of her shadows, she released a low hum of satisfaction before rewrapping her fingers around his length andtaking him into her mouth once more. Her cherry-almond scent filled the room, stronger and more intense with each pump of her hand as she built to a steady rhythm that had Cedric seeing stars.
It was as though his magic could feel hers. Like she responded to him in kind.
Maybe it did.
Maybeshedid.
Because with every flick of her wrist, light sparked in Cedric’s chest. With every swirl of her tongue, fire licked up his spine. He could feel that tether between them, their bond thrumming stronger, brighter, with every pulse of his desire.
Of hers.
Like the very strings of his soul were tying themselves to her.
She felt it too. He knew she must.
Or at least, he fucking hoped so. Hoped this delusion wasn’t just all in his head, even as she had his cock in her mouth.
If Cedric were a smarter man, he might take her at her word. He would accept that this was just physical, just a “settling of the score,” as she’d have him believe. It would certainly be cleaner, easier, if that were the truth.
But there was so much here beyond her words.
There was the way she looked at him—that jeweled gaze sharp and unyielding always, but with something softer, deeper too. Hidden behind that smug grin, or that indifferent mask she wore around others.
He saw her.
