Page 72 of Ashen Wings

“For what it’s worth Nova…” His lips part, watching me battle my body and mind. “I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

“Goodnight, Isra.”

My head spins as I climb the steps to bed, storming with reckless thoughts. I almost fucked Isra…the one ally I truly have here. I need an escape, but I couldn’t possibly be stupid enough to cross that line. What would it have made me? Heartless? Reckless? Cruel?

But those hands, those eyes, those lips. Isra was right fucking there, ready and willing. I sigh and click the lock behind me as I enter my bedchamber.

My skin blazes hotter than brimstone as I peel off the sweat-glistened tunic. The cotton fabric scrapes down my hyper-aware skin. I don’t bother picking it off the floor before falling into bed.

The fireplace hums with dying embers, leaving the room somewhat chilled, but my flushed cheeks welcome the crisp air. I clamber under the covers and close my eyes.

It’s been months since I’ve shared my bed or even pleasured myself. By nature, humans crave physical touch, and right now even the scratch of the sheets against my bare nipples sends a shudder up my throat.

First it’s my own hands that follow the curve of my breasts. Then they’re Isra’s. Then they’re Jace’s. Pleasure jolts through me almost instantly as I imagine them tracing my nipples, sensitive with a need gone unmet. Delicious wicked visions clarify in my mind as I let my head fall back onto the goose feather pillow.

Isra’s lips on my neck. Jace’s fingers laced through my hair. Both men, voracious and frantic, ready to devour my every breath.

My fingers trace the lines of my stomach and settle between my thighs. I don’t have to touch myself to know I’m already soaked and reeling.

“You’re so ready for us already, starling.” Jace’s imagined whisper against my ear sends a ripple over my skin, and I cling to my traitorous thoughts like they’re a lifeline. Maybe they are. Maybe this escape is one I can grant myself.

It’s a harmless secret. So, for the first time in a long time, I let go.

I crawl into the darkest parts of myself as I slip an index finger through my slick heat and find my center. That bud of nerves is already swollen and throbbing with the anticipation of my climax.

Fuck, I need this release like it’s air.

My other hand finds my nipple, pinching and swirling, like it’s Jace’s. I bite my cheek to silence the moan growing in my throat. “Quiet starling, wouldn’t want to wake the dead with those beautiful little whimpers of yours.”

My index finger presses to my clit like it’s Isra’s tongue, stroking and circling, until the tension building is damn near unbearable. Isra’s perfect lips wrap around my sex, sucking in my clit. My breath shallows. Release offers little shudders of anticipation through my body as I slide a finger inside me. My walls stretch when I slip in another.

What would it feel like to have Jace? Would I tense around his cock as he filled me entirely? I retract my fingers, drenched and glistening with arousal. A moan slips from me at the thought. Dangerous, delicious, dark. Jace sheathing himself to the hilt while Isra worships each inch of my body like I’m the only godsdamned deity he prays to.

Fuck, I can’t breathe.

My release climbs higher and higher as I fill myself again and again.

“You’re taking me so well, starling.”

My thighs tense and my toes curl as I reach my apex. I can’t stifle the groan spilling from my lips. “Such a good girl. Let go for us, Nova. Let go.”

Then I shatter. The shockwave of pleasure crashing through me is like falling from the fucking cosmos until I’m limp and satisfied.

Before I drift into sleep, though, a glass shatters somewhere down below.

What the fuck was that? I jump from the sheets and throw on the bathing robe draped over the bedside chair. Some piece of me begs to stay put. I have no business fighting an intruder in my current, half-drunken state, but another crash has me sliding through the door.

“You heard that too, then?” Isra appears from his own bedchamber. The blood drains from my face as our eyes lock.

“I thought you went to bed,” I whisper, panic curling through me. His door is directly opposite mine and I hadn’t been nearly as quiet as I should have.

“I was about to, but⁠—”

Something heavy thuds downstairs, rattling the walls.

“Stay behind me.” Isra’s eyes narrow and we descend the steps. The temperature plummets with tendrils of a frigid mist, coiling around us as we reach the last step. I don’t breathe, don’t make a sound.

When I slip into the foyer, the intoxication muddying my thoughts fizzles, leaving only a full force of sobered apprehension.