Page 31 of The Midnight Arrow

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Page 31 of The Midnight Arrow

He hadn’t hesitated—not this time—and so I didn’t either. And maybe it was the emotion of the afternoon and evening—Veras and the Sever and the dark look in Lorik’s eyes when he’d spoken of mercy and Shades—but I neededsomething. I needed an escape. An outlet.

And I knew I would find it in Lorik.

Our kiss grew to be a desperate thing, roving and seeking like a moon wolf scenting prey. His hot breath drifted between my lips. I inhaled his scent like bonfire smoke, making me dizzy, making the walls spin. His kiss made my mouth tingle, like I could feel the pinpricks of his magic trailing along my skin, pleasant little zings that only made me demand more.

My hands went to his wet shoulders. I forgot about his wound, but he didn’t even flinch when I accidentally hit the bandage.

“Lorik,” I gasped out, feeling need rise in me, growing and growing to new heights that it was almost frightening. There was a buzzing underneath my skin, one that made me so full ofenergy I thought I might burst. Especially if he didn’t touch me the way I wanted.

It had been much too long since I’d slept with a man. Since I’d felt the weight and heat and press of one. Since I’d felt whispered sighs drift across my skin and felt the sweat cooling on my chest in the afterglow.

I’d hidden myself away in the Black Veil in my grief…but it had been ten years and I’d been paralyzed here. Unable to move forward.

I didn’t want that anymore. And I had a Kylorr-Allavari male, who was much more than he seemed, pressed into me.

And I wanted him.

I wanted him so desperately I thought I would choke on my need.

Lorik, thank the gods, seemed to feel that same desperation clawing inside him because he stood from the washing tub in one swift motion. He broke our kiss only momentarily, and I stared up at him with a half-lidded gaze, lips swollen and red, as I kneeled in front of him.

Despite the icy water he’d been bathing in, and despite the fact that I’d just stitched up a wound—a wound that he’d only recently recovered from, his cock was as hard as Allavari steel.

“One chance,” he told me, the words drenched in warning though they fell from his lips like a purr. “One chance to leave, little witch. Because if I have you tonight, there’s no going back.”

Maybe if I wasn’t panting like a dog in heat, maybe if he hadn’t kissed me until I couldn’t even recall my own name I might’ve answered differently. I might’ve paused, given his words honest and deliberate thought.

But instead, I reached up, and the shocking heat of his hard cock met my palm. I gripped him tightly, finally eliciting a hiss and a whispered curse from him, his hips bucking forward. Itraced the length of one thick vein up the shaft, but I didn’t make it to the tip.

Before I knew it, Lorik had darted from the washing tub and I was up in his arms before I could blink. The chill of his icy flesh made me gasp, but he swallowed it down with another stolen kiss, one that made me cling to his shoulders—though I was mindful of his bandaged wound this time.

“Patience, little witch,” he groaned, squeezing my backside with one large palm as he strode from the washroom. “I intend to savor this.”

His words brought about wicked fantasies that streamed into my head on a loop. But most of all, I wanted to touch him and explore every little thing that drove him wild. I wanted to make him come undone. I wanted to see Lorik Ravael ripped apart at the seams. Maybe then I could finally discover the secrets he was hiding. Who he truly was.

When my back met the warm sheets of my bed, I realized Lorik must’ve finished washing them for me when I’d been…otherwise occupied at Aysia’s grave.

That realization alone made me deepen his kiss as his weight came down on top of me, pinning me to the bed. His wings covered us like a blanket, spreading out so that they blocked the light coming in from the front room. Those tiny little membranes in his wings fascinated me, and I wanted to trace every little vein there like I’d traced the one lining his cock.

I saw blood bloom under the fresh bandage, given that he was hovering off me with his strength.

“Lorik,” I gasped.

“Leave it,” he growled, distracting me as he nearly ripped the front half of my dress down my own arms, trapping them at my sides though it bared my breasts to him. His eyes glowed brighter at the sight until we were lit with a soft cast of blue. “It’ll heal.”

I was torn between desire and duty…at least until Lorik dropped his head and I felt the heat of his mouth envelope my breast. I heard the whistle of his hitched breath against my skin, almost contented as he licked and laved.

“Oh gods,” I breathed, widening my thighs so he could sink further into me, melting against him until I felt boneless. He captured my nipple between his teeth, making me hold my breath, the tip of his fang a dangerous tease. With my nipple tight in his grasp, he stroked the underside with his tongue, and I moaned throatily. The perfect mix of pleasure and pain. “Lorik!”

Even still, I caught the fresh scent of his blood, and I groaned.

“Lorik, your?—”

A rough sound left his throat though it was followed by a husky, languid chuckle, one that felt like silk skimming my skin.

“Heal me, then, little witch,” he purred. “And I know exactly what I need.”

With that he rolled off me, going to his back on the bed. I was relieved when the weight was off his shoulder at the very least.




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