Absurd as it may sound, this had been the longest length of time I’d spent without Kieran inside me in the last four days, and it was as if my body had lost all muscle memory on how to take him to the hilt, tensing and tightening,clenchingaround his cock.
“Shit,” Kieran swore beneath his breath. “Gods. fucking. damnit, Arken.”
The only thing I could offer in response was a mess of whimpers and mewling moans as he kept pushing in and out of me, agonizingly slow, but harder with each thrust.
“Gods, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned.
I truly had no coherent thought, no clever quips to deliver, no words that I could form to describe how badly I’d needed to feel him fill me like this again. I let my nails do the talking, digging them hard into his hips, urging them to move faster,harder.
“Please,” I begged, not even fully aware of what I was begging for.
Him. Just him. More of him, all of him.
With such eager encouragement, Kieran’s eyes went wide and wild—immediately guiding my hands above my head and shackling them to the floor with one hand. I moaned appreciatively as he gave up trying to be a gentleman, stopped trying to be delicate, and finally crushed his body against mine until we were chest to chest, his full weight settling over me like a blanket of muscle and heat. He groaned as he buried his face against my neck, his free hand taking hold of my waist as he continued to rhythmically roll his hips, pumping himself in and out, over and over, harder and deeper and faster still. Every inch of his muscled frame seemed to cling to me, holding me tight, keeping me steady against the stone bed that served as the altar of my offering, andfuck,it felt good.
With my hands still held hostage, I hooked one leg around his waist to take him even deeper, beginning to buck my hips in the same pattern, at the same cadence he’d set. Our frantic search for friction and depth continued, and I cried out, his name echoing through the cavern, muted only by the roar of the waterfall that shrouded this sanctuary of desperation and desire.
“Fuck, Kieran!”
It might have been his turn to find himself at a loss for words, because while he caught my gaze for a moment, his only response was another low growl of approval before burrowing his face between my tits, sucking and biting at the flesh that bounced with every godsdamn thrust.
Time became an inordinate, immeasurable thing. I knew that my back would be torn up by the time we made it out of here, scratched and scraped, but I didn’t even care. Let the marks be added to the collection of masterpieces this man had rendered upon my skin while delivering me to the edge of euphoria, of rapture and ruination. Because hewasruining me, I knew he was. Every godsdamn time he thrust himself inside, every time he moaned my name like something holy, Kieran was ruining me for any other. Nobody,nobody,had ever made me feel like this. No one had even come close.
You’re gonna be the death of me, Vistarii, so you’d better fucking follow me to Hel.
As the minutes, or hours, whatever they were, continued to stretch onward, we began to slow down. At some point, Kieran had released my wrists, allowing me to touch him. Touching became exploratory again, drawn-out and sensual. Kisses grew softer, sweeter. Our eye contact became more frequent, steady and unyielding as unspoken conversations took place between us, our flesh explaining what our tongues could not. Our bodies spoke a language that our conscious minds struggled to parse, but whatever the words, they flowed freely, like poetry. Every sound that left our mouths became a symphony, one that would only ever grace our ears.
By the time we collapsed into a gasping tangle of heated flesh and sweat-slicked skin, I could barely remember my own name.
After some measure of silence, Kieran finally spoke in the common tongue, with that familiar, smooth rasp of velvet over gravel. “Worth the wait, Little Conduit?”
I was much too sated to summon any kind of snark.
“Yeah,” I breathed. “Yeah, it was.”
By the time we made it out of the grotto and found ourselves lakeside, the final dregs of sunset were painting the sky with violent shades of red and orange, fading into darker pinks and purples with every passing moment.
The comfort of the water was a balm against my back, now scratched up and sore as I’d anticipated. Kieran had attempted to apologize once he’d caught sight of the damage, but I had promptly silenced him with another prolonged kiss.
“Don’t,” I’d whispered. “Don’t you dare.”
I refused to let him alter the perfection of this borderline-transcendent experience with something so banal as anapology.
After diving back in the water and exchanging yet another round of prolonged and greedy kisses, it was time to make our way back home.
Dangerous,I thought to myself as we swam together, side by side through darkening waters.This is so dangerous.
Dusk had fallen, though I could still see the glimmering white sand of the shoreline and Kieran’s speckled steed patiently awaiting our departure. This lovely lake was shallow, yes, and we both swam through its warmth with ease…But still, I was drowning.
Drowning inhim.
I was struggling for the surface with a trembling, outstretched hand—and in truth? I think I had been from the start. Whether my descent had started four days or well over a year ago, I couldn’t say. But never had this perilous, tenebrousundertow felt quite so alluring, so godsdamntemptingto succumb to.
I knew there was no air, no breath to be found beneath these shadowed tides.
But for Kieran?
I might just let myself sink into the abyss.