Page 125 of She Who Holds My Wrath

The disappointment stings, but I swallow it down, forcing my voice steady. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

I lean in anyway, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, slow and tender, only to gasp when I feel his cock twitch beneath me.

“Daisy,” he growls, his voice rough and low. “I can smell your arousal, remember?”

A giggle slips free as I trail kisses along his jaw and down the strong line of his throat. “That,” I murmur against his skin, “I can’t help.”

He groans when my lips brush over his fluttering pulse, the sound vibrating straight through me. Suddenly, he grabs a handful of my hair at the nape, pulling my head back just enough to force me to look at him. His eyes are utterly black—dark, hungry, and feral. Lust rolls off him in waves so thick, it’s almost suffocating.

“Fuck it,” he breathes.

Chapter 41

KORITHAX

Ihook my hands beneath her thighs and lift her with me as I rise, her soft gasp brushing across my mouth as her legs instinctively wrap around my waist.

I should not be doing this. But I need her more than I need air. More than I need sense. More than I need the distance I’ve been trying so desperately to keep between us.

She is the only reason I am still breathing—still existing—in this fractured, cursed half-life. Without her, I would have driven a blade through my cold, dead heart the moment I returned. I do not want to be anything without her. I don’t think I can be anything without her.

I don’t know what’s more desperate for her—me, the bond, or The Void. Either way, whatever restraint I had left, has finally snapped.

I turn and throw her onto the bed with enough force to make the mattress dip beneath her, golden hair fanning wildly across the sheets. She looks up at me flushed and breathless, lips swollen from my kisses, eyes wide and bright.

Mine.

Heat surges through my palms. Instinctively, panic flashes through me. What if I lose control? What if my fire has changed to the point of harming her, too? The Void stirs, eager. But beneath it, something steadier rises in me. Trust.

I know my flame. I know the way it answers to her, even now. I know that for all the darkness in me now, there are still things it will never destroy. So I let it move.

Black-edged fire races over her body in a swift ripple of heat, consuming every scrap of fabric between us without touching the skin beneath. Her blouse curls to ash. Trousers vanishing in glowing embers.

I pause at her feet, catching one boot in my hand before the flame can reach it. With a quick tug, I pull it free, then the other, tossing them carelessly to the floor beside the bed. Even half-mad with want, I know better than to destroy the boots she worked hard to break in. Only then, do I let the fire continue, every scrap of fabric on her body vanishing in sparks that die before they land.

“Even Void-touched,” I murmur, “my flame will never harm you, little flower.”

I let my gaze drag slowly down her body. Gods, she’s perfect. Her breasts, full and heavy. The curve of her waist. The soft, delicious swell of her stomach that I have worshipped in dreams and memory alike. By the time my eyes reach between her thighs, my mouth is watering.

“New style?” I ask, tilting my head.

Her cheeks flush scarlet, thighs pressing together in sudden nerves. “I thought I’d try a landing strip,” she says with a shy little giggle.

That sound nearly obliterates me.

I grab her ankles and force her legs apart, groaning at the sight of arousal slicking the insides of her thick thighs.

“Fuck.”

I drop to my knees at the edge of the bed and drag her down to me, hauling her closer. I sling her legs over my shoulders, lifting her by the hips for better access, then drag my tongue through her cunt without hesitation.

She tastes fucking divine. If heaven exists, then this is what I imagine their wine would taste like. Sweet, delicious, and utterly addictive. Her soft sounds only make me more feral as I feast on her, teasing and tormenting her clit before diving my tongue inside her, consuming every last drop.

“Korithax,” she whines, hips bucking relentlessly against my face.

I add two fingers, curling them just right, keeping a relentless rhythm as she grinds against me. Tongue and hand working together, I push her higher and higher until she cries out, her body erupting in white flame that bathes the room in brilliant light.

The Void reacts instantly. It recoils first, snarling, offended by the purity of it. Then it surges forwards, greedy and furious, drawn to the raw force pouring from her like a beacon.