Page 166 of Anathema
At the foot of the bed, he watched her toes twitch, her thighs shiver. Her arms shook, stiff at her side, fingers curled and twisted, as if in pain. Soft whispers carried on the air, spoken in a language he recognized, one she’d claimed not to speak.
“Da’haj mihirit voluptasz.” Give me pleasure.
Eyes still an unsettling white, she sat up while remaining elevated above the mattress, and she crawled toward him across the air. “Da’haj mihirit voluptasz.” The soft kitten voice from before had grown husky, raspy. Enrapturing.
What was this exquisite creature? This peculiar little enchantress who stirred his soul?
He stared in awe, mesmerized by her bewitching darkness. Magnificent.
“Da’haj mihirit voluptasz.”
The request sent a shiver coiling down his spine, his body wanting nothing more than to appease it. Lazy, black curls that he so badly wanted to capture in his fist, spilled over her shoulders and lay plastered to her forehead against the dewy shine of her skin. Her body writhed with a hypnotic sensuality that had Zevander grinding his teeth, desperate to keep from tearing into her.
“Da’haj mihirit voluptasz,” she beseeched.
Body lowering back to the mattress, she squirmed and writhed and mindlessly pulled down her undergarments. The sight of them banded at her thighs watered his mouth for what he knew hid beneath her skirt.
Thighs apart, she arched her back. “Da’haj mihirit voluptasz.”
He reached down and stroked her hair, his appetite stirred at the mere touch of her. Gods, he’d have sacrificed his next breath to be the bastard who made her scream in ecstasy right then.
He raised his hand to a black flame that hovered above his palm. “Revelah’ret te mej.” Reveal yourself to me.
Her eyes rolled forward, but the black of her pupils swallowed the usual foggy gray irises, indicating something still possessed her. She giggled and lifted the hem of her skirt higher, not yet exposing herself.
“Revelah’ret te mej,” he repeated.
She licked her lips and raised her hand. The flame shot from his palm to hers without his command. As if she’d summoned it herself.
He watched in rapt fascination as the flame dissipated to smoke and traveled across her arm as a pulsing onyx vein to her hands, turning her fingertips black. No one had ever been capable enough to snatch his power that way and Zevander couldn’t tell if he was troubled or turned on by it.
“Da’haj mihirit voluptasz et da’minha vitatej.” Give me pleasure and I will give you life. Eyes shuttering, she tipped her head back at the same time she reached beneath the hiked hem of her skirt, and the moment her fingertips made contact, Zevander felt the glide of warm silk across his own fingertips, as if he were touching her himself.
His body shuddered. Spread your legs.
Her legs parted for him, and the tight seam widened for what he imagined to be a deliciously pink shell within. Gods’ teeth, what he wouldn’t have given to yank back her coverings and behold what was doubtlessly the most revoltingly beautiful flesh he’d ever lay eyes on. In a feather-light stroke, she slid her middle finger down between her lips, and he took in the warm silky folds that enveloped the digit.
Mouth parted, she let out a shaky breath, and he could feel the flinch of her stomach muscles. Her thighs that shook at either side, while she toyed with her seam. When she drew her finger back upward, she found the small bundle of nerves and brought her thighs together on a moan.
Fuck me.
Zevander planted a fist against the bed, his muscles weak.
She circled her clit that, had he been pleasuring her himself, would’ve suffered the torment of his tongue, but he didn’t dare lower his face there. Every fiber of his willpower resisted.
When she slid her fingers back down, over her mound, and found the small entrance, slick with her arousal, he let out a groan. The sticky juices coated her fingers, and damn her to Nethyria, she had the fucking audacity to shove her fingers into her mouth, her tongue enveloping the flesh, sucking it away.
His tongue prickled with her sweet flavor.
She lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes, curving her fingers up inside her again.
Zevander fell to his knees beside the bed, the height of it at his chest, offering a view so intimate, he could smell that delectable orange flavor mingling with the heady scent of arousal. Mouth watering, he gnashed his teeth, as the need inside him clawed at his spine.
Touch her. Taste her. Fuck her.
Soft moans leaked past her lips, as she plunged wet fingers in and out of her tight cunt, titillating that electric ball of nerves up inside of her. The wet squelch of her fingers working up her arousal goaded him to reach down into his trousers and take hold of the beast that begged to plow into her. To spear through that swollen flesh without mercy.
Her body twitched, her other hand curled into a fist, as if she felt him, as well. Breaths turned staccato, she plunged faster, soaking her fingers, moaning and writhing in pleasure. Muscles tight, he could feel the climax building inside of her.