Chapter Thirty-one
Those deft fingers of his moved up her creamy thighs, inching their determined way to her moist, waiting core. It was radiating heat. His mind whispered epitaphs written in lightning, jagged and ancient. His body hurt more and more with each passing, racing heartbeat. It ached relentlessly, driving him on.
He brushed his fingertips slowly along her slick opening, and she bucked beneath him, quaking in response, and he made a sound that he turned against her throat, deep and guttural. He held her beneath him, knowing what was coming when he pressed two fingers between those heated, wet folds, and her body squeezed him tight, promising and perfect.
“Will!” she cried out when he wouldn’t allow her to move away. More lightning wrote across the backdrop of his mind, slicing it to electric ribbons.
She tossed her head to the side, her slim form trying for all it was worth to evade him, nothing but old brain preservation in charge now. Her back and neck arched, her fingers curled into claws against his chest, her knees bent at his sides. He knew the sensations were too much; he was not what he appeared to be. Just like her, he was so much more.
And his fingers were invading her now, pressing inward, gliding deep. She made a desperate sound, her teeth clenched. Fate help me, he thought mindlessly. He was no schoolboy, but this was Helena. He couldn’t wait to feel her around him any longer.
She was burning through him, erasing all he’d ever been and replacing it with need. His cock throbbed, his head swam. Every muscle in his tall, strong body was flexed tight with need, his skin slick, his hair damp. He was on fire.
Will withdrew his fingers from her molten core and grasped Helena’s face between his hands, forcing her to turn her head toward him. She writhed beneath him, desperate sounds of disappointment escaping her bruised lips. “Look at me, Helena,” he commanded. His voice filled the room, echoing and deep. There was an accent to it now that he faintly noticed, but that Helena was oblivious to.
“Damn it, Will!” she hissed through her clenched teeth. She fought him, her nails drawing blood. He ignored the damage she did, his thumbs gently brushing her flushed cheeks. He wanted to look into her eyes when he took her. He wanted to see her soul.
“Helena,” he repeated, hoping against hope for the patience he needed. But he was nearly delirious with pain now, his need was so great.
At last, she obeyed and blinked up at him. He caught her gaze and held it. There in the center of the Promised One’s dilated pupils was a flicker of crimson red as bright and unnatural as the very fire that was consuming him. It was the slightest reflection of her primordial, fateful power. The fire was hypnotically entrancing and would have been grounding had he not already been so far gone.
But as it was, he defiantly gazed into that power, matched it with his own, and covered her mouth with his hand. In one hard thrust, he speared into her.
Helena screamed into his hand as he knew she would. Her arms wrapped around him to hold him tight, her nails drawing more blood as he claimed her. Long, thick, and un-givingly hard, he filled her aching tightness to the exaction of ever more pain. But it was delicious pain, bliss and agony and the wrapping of each around the other the way it was meant to be.
A rumble escaped his chest, rose from his throat, and echoed in the room as he sank slowly and steadily all the way to the hilt, and rested there so very deep inside her. She gasped desperate cries into his palm, her small body attempting to adjust to the massive invasion. But he couldn’t give her much more time. He was seeing stars, swimming motes of delirium threatening his sanity.
He braced himself on either side of her, his nerves riding that lightning that wrote itself across his mind before he slowly started back out of her sweet, ultra-tight core. Helena went suddenly still beneath him; she knew what was coming. He slid his hand off her mouth to the release of tiny, wanton gasps and grinned. “Forgive me,” he warned her.
Her eyes widened. He trapped her lips in a glorious kiss, his body begging him for mercy. But he didn’t want his cousin taking down the door at the sound of Helena’s screams, and he fully planned on wringing more out of her.
Again, he thrust into her, this time a little faster and harder than before. She cried out against his lips, and he drank the sound, teasing her tongue with his own in a dance that could have lasted forever. He sank so perfectly deep into her, he felt he claimed her completely, connecting them unbreakably. It was heaven.
The world was being overrun with Dark World monsters, Cain was free and furious, and they were running out of time. But in heaven, there was nothing but time. Nothing but Time.
And its master.
The swimming stars finally exploded in Will’s mind, a supernova of profound magic that swirled around his strong form as he gripped the sheets of his bed in tight fists and pulled himself out of his mate to take her once more. Harder.
He sank intensely, the sensations so strong they shook the foundation of all he’d thought he knew. She was encompassing him, changing around him, and he was changing within her.
As she adjusted to his subjugation, he broke the kiss and whispered across her lips. “Helena…” he said softly, just to say her name, thoroughly enjoying the sound of it on his tongue. He rocked back, quickening his pace, his need rising to an undeniable crescendo.
Helena’s rasping breaths brushed his lips, but she smiled a lost and helpless smile as that fire in the heart of her eyes continued to burn. The tight glove of her canal pressed in on him, crushing him like a wicked dream, the rings of muscles around his length squeezing back with just as much need as he showed her.
The magic he’d unwittingly released continued to encase them, forming a thick cocoon of power that glowed like the Aurora Borealis in winter and brushed against their naked flesh like a lover’s caress. Its presence was but a whisper beneath the thrumming drum of his heartbeat and the endless, vicious rhythm of his massive need. He drew back and plowed into her with passion just shy of fury, brutal but tender, always teetering on the line between.
She pressed her lips to his chest, silencing her own cries as he took her, and Will wasn’t disappointed when she finally bit down in a fevered frenzy, growling in her own climbing ecstasy. Distantly, Will realized the objects in his room were floating. The books were free of the bookcase, the pens and pencils hovered above his desk, and their clothing drifted. All of it glowed with Helena’s telekinetic magic, a semblance of the fire that literally burned in the depths of her gaze.
Her strangled cries vibrated against his skin, and Will relinquished his grip on the bed to take Helena in his arms again. He was heading into crazy town. There were no logical thoughts for him any longer. His mind was a Chinese New Year, filled with explosions too loud to hear, and colors too bright to behold.
Blood pooled in the half-moon wounds Helena’s short nails had carved into his shoulders and back. He felt the wetness distantly, distractedly. His strong arms held her for a moment more before he snaked one down beneath her to cup her round, tight bottom. The other, he spread across her tight abdomen, slowly moving it lower. Helena moved against him, playing into his every move. He slid lower still until he touched the wet heat of her with his fingertips once more. There, he pressed against her expertly, manipulating her in a new way. Her body tensed beautifully in response – and he didn’t let up.
A savage need, basic and necessary, was at the wheel now. It compelled him to move steady and strong inside her, but rather than increase his speed, he slowed it with lascivious intent. He was a man driven solely by the demands of obsession, wholly and inescapably under the ruthless influence of its all powerful spell. And that obsession wanted to last a little longer.
He would take them over the mountain and into the valley of insanity together. When he stepped foot in the land of the well and truly lost, he was going to make sure she was right there beside him. She was all he knew, all he’d ever wanted. He was going to make her his in every possible way.
There was no going back. The point of no return had been passed long ago, when he’d claimed her in that scrying bowl, when his emerald eyes had branded her more deeply – and more meaningfully – than any burning metal ever could.