Page 45 of What Beats Within the Tunnels

Even as the waves of my climax begin to recede, his fingers continue their thrusts inside me, prolonging the ecstasy. Once my shudders subside, he withdraws slowly. He raises his head to meet mine, and I catch the wicked glint in his eyes as he deliberately licks his lips, and a flare of heat courses through me.

He gracefully ascends to his full height, and impulsively I stand on the bench to level our eyes. We’re nearly face to face, the heat from our bodies mingling with the warm mist from the shower. “Colton,” I whisper, but he silences me, pressing a gentle finger against my trembling lips. For a charged moment, our gaze holds, the intensity palpable. But I can’t resist the magnetic pull to let my eyes drift downward, taking in every sculpted plane and curve of his body. His impressive physique is matched only by his equally impressive cock.

Desire surges within me, I want to feel him, to be as close as possible.

Noting the hunger in my eyes, a smug grin forms on his lips. With a swift, confident movement, he wraps his arms around my waist, effortlessly lifting me from the tiles. Instinctively, my legs entwine around his torso, the solid length of him pressing tantalizingly against my stomach. The close proximity sends a thrilling rush through my veins, and I need more. I need him inside me.

My arms coil tightly around his neck as his lips blaze a trail of fervent kisses up the side of my neck. His hands, firm and deliberate, travel to cradle my ass, gradually lifting me. The very tip of him rests teasingly at my entrance, a promise of what’s to come.

The warmth of his breath tickles my ear as he murmurs, “You’re mine now, Lyra, and I intend to cherish what’s mine.” With that, he eases me onto him.

A sharp intake of breath escapes my lips, his size stretching me in a way that’s both exquisite and overwhelming. My fingers dig into his shoulders, seeking some form of anchor against the intense sensation. Slowly, he fills me more, every inch of him I take inside causing me to tighten my grip. But once he’s fully inside, a mixture of pleasure and adjustment courses through me. I exhale the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, my fingers relaxing their grasp.

His eyes search mine, a mix of concern and intensity.

“Are you well, my shadow?” he inquires softly, never looking away.

“Yes,” I breathe out in response, barely audible.

He lifts me once more, leaving only the tip of him inside before lowering me onto him again. My breath hitches in my throat; he feels incredible. He repeats the motion, maintaining a slow pace to let my body adjust to his size. Drawing close to my ear, he murmurs, “Breathe.” I heed his command, drawing in a shuddering breath.

I weave my fingers through his wet hair, guiding his mouth to mine. Our lips collide with an urgency, a fierceness that wasn’t there before. Our tongues tangle, teeth occasionally clashing as our passion escalates. With each lift and descent, he quickens the pace. Then, shifting his stance, he presses me against the shower wall. The water spills over us, acting as a warm barrier on our intertwined bodies. Using the wall for leverage, he no longer lifts me but begins to thrust, driving deeper into me with each motion.

Overwhelmed by the sensation of him inside me, I can’t hold back the moans and cries escaping my lips. The pleasure builds, threatening to crest once more, when he abruptly stops. With a quick motion, he shuts off the water, lifting me from the wall. Carrying me, without withdrawing from within, he places me gently on the bed, positioning himself above me.

His thumb grazes my face, wiping the water away, before his lips brush softly against my forehead. Then he captures my mouth in a heated kiss. Suddenly, passion takes over. Holding my legs aloft, he plunges into me with fervor, each insertion more powerful than the last. My cries grow louder, turning to screams, his name becoming a mantra on my lips, until waves of pleasure crash over me once more. Moments later, with a few deliberate thrusts, he finds his own climax, his movements slowing until he buries himself within me one final, deep time.

He rolls onto his back, pulling me with him so I lie draped across him, his cock still filling me. I rest my head on his chest, exhausted and utterly satisfied. I gently pull away from him, instantly missing the feeling of him inside me. Sitting up, I glance back at him, searching his eyes.

“Did you want to be alone tonight?” I inquire, a hint of vulnerability in my voice.

His brow knits together, casting a shadow over his striking features. “No,” he replies, studying my face intently.

“You gave me my own room,” I point out, recalling our earlier interaction. “And then you bid me goodnight and left.”

“I thought you’d want your own space,” he admits, his voice soft yet earnest. “But believe me, Lyra, I only want to share a bed with you every night. If you’re okay with that, then this can be our room.”

The sincere warmth in his eyes causes my heart to flutter. “I would love that,” I confess. “Being apart from you tonight felt...out of place.” A tender smile spreads across his face.

“Come here,” he beckons, reaching out. Yielding to his pull, I settle next to him, resting my head on his chest. As he drapes the blankets over us, his arm encircles my waist, drawing me even closer.

The sensation of his fingers tracing delicate circles on the small of my back makes me shiver. “You feel incredible,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.

“I could say the same about you,” I retort, eliciting a soft chuckle from him. “We’re both drenched, and so is the bed,” I observe.

With a graceful wave of his hand, he performs a minor miracle, drying us and the sheets instantly. I really need to learn that trick.

“Didn’t I promise I’d have you screaming?” His tone is teasing, reminding me of our earlier intimacy. Thank the stars we’re no longer in Zomea.

“Very funny,” I grumble, playfully swatting his chest.

Chapter 17

Lyra

Something’s coming! The whispers, once faint, now wind around me, vengeful, clawing at my sanity. Straining, my eyes fight the encompassing obscurity of this otherworld maze. The chilling embrace of the tunnels threatens to swallow me whole. Taking deep breaths, I steel myself, reminding my psyche this is a product of my midnight mind. I must remain master of it.

Ahead, a fork in the tunnel beckons, and I stride closer to it, though the whispers press in with increasing fervor, attempting to splinter my resolve. A frigid gust grazes the nape of my neck, its touch deathly cold. My heart leaps to my throat, and a scream tears from my lips. Without thought, my feet veer to the left, propelling me forward in a blind sprint.