CHAPTER 105: LONG-AWAITED ACT

I felt her jolt beneath me, a sharp, electric tremor that ran through her entire body and into mine. The sound she made wasn’t a word, just a raw, fractured gasp that was half surprise, half pure, unadulterated need. Her hips bucked once, a desperate, involuntary plea against my invading finger.

I didn’t push in. Not yet. The tip of my finger just rested there, a promise at her threshold, while my mouth continued its lazy, torturous circles around her nipple. I could feel the hard peak of it against my tongue, a tight bud of sensation. Her back arched, pushing her chest further into my face, a silent begging for more pressure, more contact, more something.

Her hands, which had been clawing at the sheets, flew up and tangled in my hair. She wasn’t pushing me away. She was holding on, anchoring herself against the storm I was stirring within her. Her grip was tight, almost painful, but the pain was a grounding wire in the dizzying, floral-scented haze of her.

"Please..." The word was a ragged whisper, torn from her lips. It wasn’t directed at me, not really. It was just a sound her body made, a release of pressure. A confession.

I finally closed my mouth over her nipple, sucking gently, and her plea turned into a moan that vibrated through my skull. My finger, still at her entrance, pressed just a fraction more. She was so wet. The heat was incredible, a furnace blazing just for me. Her muscles fluttered around my fingertip, a frantic, rhythmic pulse that seemed to say yes, yes, yes.

I released her breast with a soft pop and lifted my head. I needed to see her. I needed to watch her face as this happened.

Her eyes were screwed shut. Her silver hair was a wild mess fanned out beneath her, a stark contrast to the deep blue of her irises I knew were hidden behind her lids. Her lips were parted, swollen from our kissing, and her breath came in short, sharp pants. She was utterly lost, completely surrendered to the sensation. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

"Look at me," I whispered, my voice hoarse.

Her eyelids fluttered open. The blue of her eyes was almost completely swallowed by her pupils, dark pools of pure want. There was no hesitation there, no shyness. Just a fierce, burning need that mirrored my own. Our bond was screaming now, a feedback loop of desire that left no room for separate thought. Her hunger was my hunger. Her trembling was my own.

I held her gaze as I finally, slowly, pushed my finger inside.

She cried out, a short, sharp sound that was immediately choked off. Her eyes went wide, staring into mine, and I felt her inner muscles clench around me in a sudden, vice-like spasm of shock and pleasure. It was so tight, so impossibly hot and wet. I stayed still, letting her adjust, letting the initial shockwave subside.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. We just stared at each other, connected in the most intimate way possible. I could feel every tiny tremor that ran through her, every frantic beat of her heart. I could feel the overwhelming rightness of it through our bond, a sense of completion so profound it was almost painful.

Then, a slow, wicked smile touched her lips. Her eyes narrowed, glinting with a challenge. "Is that all you have?"

The taunt, coming from her in this state, and with her voice all low and sultry, was the most erotic thing I’d ever heard. It shattered the last of my restraint.

I withdrew my finger almost completely, watching her face fall for a split second before I pushed back in, deeper this time. Her gasp was a reward. I did it again, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm. In. Out. Each stroke a little deeper, a little firmer.

Her head tipped back, exposing the long line of her throat. Her hands fell from my hair to my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin through my shirt. Little half-moons of pain that only fueled the fire. Her hips began to move, meeting my thrusts with a clumsy, eager rhythm of her own.

"Yes..." she hissed, the word a sibilant rush of air. "Like that..."

My world narrowed to this. To the feel of her around my finger. To the sight of her coming apart beneath me. To the scent of her skin and her arousal, thick in the air. To the sound of her ragged breathing and the soft, wet sounds of our joining.

I crooked my finger inside her, searching, and found a spot that made her entire body seize up. She screamed, a raw, unfiltered sound of pleasure that seemed to shake the very walls of the room. Her back arched violently off the bed, and her legs clamped around my wrist, holding me inside her as she convulsed.

The waves of her climax crashed over me through our bond, a tidal wave of sensation that wasn’t my own but felt like it was. It was dizzying, overwhelming. My own body trembled with the force of it, my blood roaring in my ears.

Slowly, her peaking subsided. The tension drained from her body, leaving her boneless and limp on the sheets. Her breathing was still ragged, her skin sheened with a fine layer of sweat. She looked utterly spent, completely wrecked.

And she was the most glorious thing I had ever seen.

I gently withdrew my finger. She whimpered at the loss, a soft, pathetic sound that went straight to my core. Her eyes were hazy, unfocused, but they found mine.

I leaned down and kissed her, deep and slow. She tasted of sweat and salt and her own unique flavor. She kissed me back lazily, her energy spent.

I broke the kiss and rested my forehead against hers again, our noses touching. We were both breathing heavily, sharing the same air.

"That was..." she started, but her voice was a wrecked whisper. She couldn’t finish.

"I know," I said. My own voice was just as rough.

I could feel the aftershocks still trembling through her. I could feel the deep, satiated warmth spreading through her limbs. It was a contented, sleepy feeling. Through the bond, it felt like lying in a sunbeam.

But beneath that warmth, a new heat was already stirring. A low ember that refused to go out. In her, and in me.

Her hands, which had been lying limp at her sides, came up to frame my face. Her thumbs stroked my cheeks, a tender, slow motion.

"I’m not done with you," she whispered, and the promise in her voice sent a fresh jolt of desire straight through me.

Her legs, which had fallen open, shifted. She hooked one around my hip, pulling me down, aligning my body with hers. I could feel the hard length of my erection pressed against her thigh, still trapped frustratingly behind my pants. The barrier of fabric felt like an insult.

She felt it too. Her hazy eyes sharpened with renewed intent. That wicked smile returned.

"These," she said, her fingers moving from my face to the buttons of my shirt, "are in the way."

Her fingers fumbled, clumsy with residual pleasure. Impatient, I grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled, buttons flying and pinging off the walls and floor. I didn’t care. I shrugged the torn fabric off my shoulders and tossed it aside.

Her eyes drank me in, roaming over my chest, my stomach. Her hunger was a physical thing, a pull in the pit of my stomach.

She pushed at my hips. "Up."

I obeyed, kneeling back on the bed. In one swift, surprisingly strong motion, she ripped my pants and boxers away before I kicked their remains out of the way, finally, blessedly free.

I was exposed to her completely now. Her eyes dropped down, and her breath hitched. A faint blush colored her cheeks, but her gaze was unwavering. Appreciative.

She reached out, her fingers wrapping around me. Her touch was electric. I groaned, my head falling back. Her hand was so soft, so sure. She stroked me once, twice, a slow, testing motion that had my hips bucking involuntarily.

"Selia..." It was a warning, a plea.

She released me and lay back, opening her arms and her legs to me. Her expression was one of pure invitation, pure trust.

"Now," she said, her voice firm, leaving no room for doubt or delay. "I want you now."

I didn’t need to be told twice.

She waited for... No. I made her wait for way too long.

I moved over, bracing myself on my arms, caging her in. Our eyes locked. The connection between us was a live wire, humming with anticipation.

I positioned myself at her entrance. The heat there was immense. I could feel her wetness, her readiness. Her hips lifted, a silent, desperate urging.

I pushed.

The world stopped.

There was a moment of resistance, a tight, final barrier. I saw it in her eyes—a flicker of pain, a sharp intake of breath. I froze, my own body screaming at me to keep going.

"It’s okay," she whispered, her voice tight. Her hands came to my hips, not pushing me away, but holding me. "Don’t stop."

I leaned down and captured her mouth in a kiss, swallowing her next gasp as I pushed forward, sheathing myself inside her completely in one smooth, irrevocable motion.

We broke the kiss, both of us gasping for air. The feeling was beyond anything I could have imagined. The tight, hot, velvet clutch of her surrounding me was maddening. It was home. It was everything.

Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, but she was smiling. A real, radiant smile that lit up her entire face.

"You’re mine," she breathed, her voice full of wonder.

"And you’re mine," I answered, my voice thick with emotion I couldn’t name.

I began to move. Slowly at first, a gentle rocking motion that allowed her to adjust to the feel of me. Her legs wrapped around my waist, locking me to her, pulling me deeper. Her heels dug into the small of my back.

The slow rhythm didn’t last long. The need was too great, the feedback from our bond too intense. Our movements quickly became more frantic, more desperate. I drove into her, again and again, each thrust burying me deeper in her warmth.

The bed rocked beneath us, the headboard knocking a steady rhythm against the wall. The air was filled with the sound of our skin slapping together, our ragged breaths, and our mingled moans.

I was losing myself in her. In the feel of her, the smell of her, the taste of her sweat on my lips. My mind, which had been such a mess before, was now perfectly, blissfully empty. There was no past, no future. There was only Selia. Only this.

Her nails raked down my back. I welcomed the sting. It grounded me in the hurricane of sensation.

"Harder," she demanded, her voice a guttural growl I’d never heard from her before.

I obeyed, slamming into her with a force that made her cry out. Her inner muscles clenched around me, milking me, pulling me toward my own end. I could feel her climbing again, feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within her through our bond.

"Look at me," I grunted, my own climax looming, an unstoppable wave building in the base of my spine.

Her eyes, which had been squeezed shut, flew open. They locked onto mine. The connection was absolute. I could see everything she was feeling—the pleasure, the love, the fierce, possessive joy.

It was that look that shattered us both.

Her climax hit her like a freight train. She screamed my name, a raw, broken sound as her body convulsed around mine. The intensity of it, amplified and reflected back at me through our bond, tore my own release from me. I buried myself deep inside her as I came, my own shout joining hers, a wordless roar of completion that felt like it tore from my very soul.

The waves seemed to go on forever, a seemingly endless series of pulses that left us both trembling and breathless. I collapsed on top of her, my strength utterly gone. I felt her arms come around me, holding me close as our heartbeats slowly began to calm from a frantic drumming to a steady, synchronized rhythm.

We lay like that for a long time, tangled together, slick with sweat, breathing each other in. The world slowly seeped back in. The feel of the rumpled sheets beneath us. The cool air on my skin. The sound of our breathing.

I shifted my weight off her, but she tightened her arms, holding me in place.

"Don’t," she murmured into my neck. "Not yet."

So I stayed. I nuzzled into her silver hair, inhaling the scent that was now inextricably mixed with my own. I felt... quiet. Whole. The chaotic mess of my mind was finally, perfectly still.

I had no idea what would happen tomorrow. The dangers, the mysteries, the weight of her title and my role in it all—it was all still there, waiting for us outside this room.

But for now, in the warm, dim silence, with Selia’s steady breath ghosting across my skin, none of that mattered. We had found our anchor. It was each other.