Page 44 of The Midnight Arrow

“Sometimes…I wonder if the Kylorr’s deities have been watching over Allavar all this time,” he admitted quietly.

I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling my belly warm with the meaning. Fear sprung up too…but only because this feltreal. This felt meaningful and unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.

He was wondering if fated mateswerestill possible, when he’d told me once he didn’t believe in them. He was wondering if I was his. Bound in blood. Picked for one another by a higher power, one that we didn’t even understand.

“Oh, Lorik,” I breathed.

“Too soon?” he murmured, quirking his lips in a self-deprecating expression. “Maybe. But I don’t want to hide what I feel for you, Marion. Because of what? Fear? No, I don’t believe in that.”

To banish the sudden vulnerability I spied in his eyes, I leaned forward quickly, going up to my tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to his lips. He grunted against me, his hand reaching out to circle my waist. Even though my hands were covered in dough, I cupped his cheek in my grip when I leaned back.

“I really like you too, Lorik,” I told him, feeling my throat tighten with fear—but also relief—as I spoke the words. His gaze warmed, molten and soft. “So let’s just see where this goes, all right?”

For a long while, Lorik looked like he wanted to say something. I could see the debate in his eyes, the words held on the very tip of his tongue.

But whatever it was died, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment.

He looked down between us, his eyes going to the floor, and when he met my gaze again, he gave me a warm smile.

“That sounds perfect,” he said.

Eighteen

“Fuck, Marion,” Lorik hissed, biting the fleshy side of his palm, which squeezed against his mouth. “What else do you need fixed in this place?”

I would’ve smiled, maybe even laughed at the slight pleading torment in his voice, but my mouth was stuffed, so full that I could only take in a few inches of his cock.

At first, I’d be hesitant. Shy, even. It had been a long time since I’d pleasured a male like this, and my first lover had once told me I wasn’t even that good at it.Thathad stung, my self-esteem taking a hit, but Lorik’s reaction just about erased years of shame from that one mean, flippant comment.

Or maybe it’s just the partner I’m with,I couldn’t help but think. Lorik’s own obvious pleasure spurred my own. Iwantedto make him feel better than he ever had before. Iwantedto make him crazy, I wanted to make him moan and thrash and curse at gods he wasn’t sure existed for me.

He’d already made me come. Now it was his turn, and I wanted him to crave this.

I hummed as I slid my lips down his cock, hollowing my cheeks when I reached my limit.

“Gods,” he groaned. “Marion, I’m going to come soon. I?—”

I released his cock with a wetpopand took his length in my hand. Hot and hard, I pumped him, slow and teasing. Silver pre-come was dripping from his tip at a nearly steady rate, the taste of him lingering on my tongue—earthy and musky and delicious.

“Come for me,” I murmured, feeling a distracting throb between my thighs though I ignored it. This was about Lorik. He’d been so generous, and I wanted to return the favor. I’d teased him long enough, however. “I want you to come for me.”

His answering groan sounded pained. His hips began to rock against my grip, steady but greedy. I stroked his length, his slippery pre-come and my saliva making my hand glide.

And when I put my lips over the head of his swollen cock, I sucked hard before tracing the seam with my tongue.

His hips punched forward, a hard jerk that I thought took both of us by surprise, but I only tightened my grip on him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he panted, breath huffing out of him. I could see the gleam of his perspiration through his tunic and felt my hands hit the laces of his untied pants every time I ran them down his cock. There was something so very naughty about this. Him fully clothed, on the verge of coming down my throat. And me on my knees before him, not a stitch of clothing on me.

We hadn’t even made it the bed. He had his perfect ass wedged against the table, and my knees were pressed to the hard stone floor.

“Marion.”

My name was my only warning falling from his lips, and I sucked harder. His hips jerked, a single harsh breath exhaling from his throat, and then he was unleashing his come onto my waiting tongue. The thick ropes of it were hot. Endless. I swallowed him down as best as I could, though some escaped from my lips, dribbling down to my chin.

All the while, Lorik’s burning gaze was piercing into me. Helikedto watch this. I met his eyes as my throat worked, and he whispered something in a language I didn’t recognize, though the roots of which sounded Allavari.

When he gave a final jerk against me and I released him, wiping at my face with the dress he’d nearly torn off me, I leaned back on my heels.