Page 252 of A Fire in the Flesh


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More of the darkness became visible, nearly obscuring his skin. “I won’t be able to hold on to my mortal form much longer.” The shadows briefly thickened around him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I trust in that—trust in you. Just as you trusted me earlier when I wasn’t even all that aware—”

“This is different.”

I started to tell him it wasn’t, but Ash changed. It was him—the shape of his features, the strong jaw, and wide, expressive mouth. His high, sharp cheekbones and blade-straight nose, but he was now shadow and smoke turned to stone.

He had shifted into his Primal form, his midnight-streaked skin looking as hard as granite as moonlight wings lifted behind him, sweeping out and blocking the chamber behind him.

This was Nyktos, the Asher, the one who is Blessed, the Guardian of Souls, and the Primal God of Common Men and Endings. This was who he was at his core: an ancient predator and the giver and taker of lives.

A Primal of Death, terrifying in his power and glory…and not in control.

Even without the newly gained knowledge that had come with my Ascension, I would’ve known that it made him incredibly dangerous. Even to a Primal.

Even to me.

My chest rose and fell rapidly as I stared up at the Primal, still…still seeing Ash. I saw only him, and I felt no fear as more shadow-laced eather drifted out in smoky tendrils, spilling onto the bed.

“If you don’t run, if I take you, I will take you like this,” he warned. “And I will do so as a Primal.”

“I’m here, and I’m not leaving,” I whispered, willing to give him anything and everything he needed. “I’m yours, Ash. Take me.”

A low, sensual rumble echoed from him, eliciting a wave of shivers from me. The swirling shadows eased off my shoulders and gathered along my forearms. They curled around my wrists. My heart stuttered as my gaze fixed on his.

Ash’s eyes were pure molten silver. “I tried to warn you.”

Before I could respond, the shadows yanked my arms up, pinning them to the bed above my head.

Oh, gods.

In an instant, the essence inside me strained against his display of dominance. There was no fear, though—no flashes of panic or desperation. There was no room for any of that when there was this heightened need to push back and see who would come out on top, and the twisting burst of red-hot desire.

Ash’s nostrils flared as he breathed in deeply. The growl deepened as he tilted forward, curling his fingers around my ankle. My entire body jerked at the touch. I wasn’t sure if it was the coldness of those fingers or the palpable tension gathering in the chamber.

Jaw clenched, he lifted my leg, pushing it to the side, exposing the throbbing heat between my thighs to the air…and to him.

Those glowing eyes left mine as wisps of shadowy eather throbbed restlessly against the bed, brushing my outer legs. The intensity of his stare was like an icy-hot brand as his gaze lowered, drifting over my heavy breasts. Between his thighs, his cock pulsed, and…

Was it larger? Thicker and longer?

My heart tripped as I took in the rest of him. His body was bigger—wider and likely taller. My gaze slid back down.

Dear gods.

His gaze lowered, moving past my navel and then lower still, which meant I was incapable of focusing on anything else.

Everything about him vibrated as his stare latched on to me. My legs reflexively started to close, but his grip on my ankle firmed as one of the humming tendrils rose from the bed and draped over my other leg.

The sudden cool weight of his eather caused my stomach to clench, but I still felt no fear. No unease. I never did with Ash. Not when he gave me complete control or took it for himself. I was always safe with him.

Memories of the night after the Cimmerian attack resurfaced. Would he touch me so wickedly again? I shivered. Would he do it while he knew I saw him? A rush of heat and dampness pooled where his eyes feasted.

One side of his lips curved up as his gaze returned to mine. “I can taste your need.”

I shook.

His stare dropped once more as he pushed the ankle he held up, spreading my legs even wider. “So pretty,” he murmured. “So wet.”

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