Page 39 of Ash and Burn

Her back arched off the bed, and a broken cry tore from her throat as her climax crashed over her. Her thighs clenched around his head, and her body convulsed under his ministrations. But he didn't stop, he drew out every last shudder, every pulse, until she collapsed back onto the sheets, gasping and completely spent.

Only then did he lift his head to look up at her. She was smiling, her eyes dazed with pleasure, and a profound satisfaction settled in his chest. This was a victory. Not over a rival territory. This was the victory of her trust, her pleasure, her choice. And it meant more than any battle he'd ever won.

Calix watched the moonlight dance across her skin, his dragon roaring in triumph at the choice he saw in her eyes. She wasn't running. Not this time. She was staying.

He moved to join her on the bed, but her hand shot out, her fingers wrapping around his wrist with a strength that surprised him. Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with desire, and a fierce, determined smile touched her lips.

"Come here," she commanded, her voice husky.

She pulled, and he let her, the simple act of her taking charge sending a jolt of pure heat straight to his core. He was a king, an Alpha, a creature of command. Yet here, in this moment, her authority over him was absolute, and he surrendered to it with a growl of pleasure. She guided him over her, her body arching to meet his as he settled his weight between her thighs. Then her hands went to the waistband of his pajama pants.

"I need you inside me now."

The words were not a request. They were a demand, a truth as fundamental as the volcanic bedrock of Ashvorn. He helped her shove the fabric of his pants down his hips, and he kicked them away. Then her gaze raked over him, until her eyes settled on his hard cock, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. The mate bond was a live wire, humming with her anticipation, her hunger, and her need.

She chooses me.

The thought was a seismic shift in his soul. This was not just physical. It was the woman who saw the king and the man and wasn't afraid of either, laying claim to him. And it was everything.

He braced himself over her, his cock nudging against her slick heat. He looked down into her eyes, giving her one last moment to change her mind, to retreat. But she met his gaze, unflinching, and wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer.

"Calix, please," she breathed, and it was both plea and command.

Then he pushed inside. The sensation was a lightning strike to his system, a thousand times more intense than the first time. Their mate bond had woven itself tighter, deeper in the days since they'd met, and now it amplified every sensation into something transcendent. She was so tight, so impossibly hot and wet, her body welcoming him with a clenching shudder that stole the air from his lungs. He buried himself to the hilt in one slow, relentless stroke, and a ragged groan tore from his throat.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her head falling back against the pillows. "God… it's… it's so much more," she gasped.

"I know," he managed, the words gritted out.

He couldn't tell her why. Not yet. The truth of the bond was a pressure behind his teeth, but this moment was too fragile, too perfect, to risk with explanations that could shatter it. He would tell her. When she was sated and safe in his arms, when the dawn light crept across the terrace. He would give her the truth and pray she didn't run from it. But not now.

He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that was pure torture. Each withdrawal was agony and each thrust back home a revelation. He watched her face, memorizing every flicker of pleasure and every bitten-off moan. Her hips rose to meet his, her legs locking around him, drawing him deeper with every stroke. The friction was exquisite, their connection a golden thread pulling taut between their hearts.

"Faster," she begged, her voice breaking on the word. "Please, Calix, I need more…"

He obeyed willingly, the Alpha in him reveling in her plea. He drove into her with a new, primal intensity, the pace becoming frantic and wild. The bed rocked beneath them, the headboard tapping a steady rhythm against the stone wall. Her cries grew louder, more urgent, a symphony that fed the beast inside him.

"Yes… right there…" she breathed.

Her inner muscles began to flutter around him, the first tremors of her climax. He could feel it building through the bond, a gathering storm of pleasure that mirrored his own. His control was a fraying thread, but he needed to see her come apart first.

With a growl, he hooked his hands under her knees, pushing her legs back toward her shoulders. The angle changed, and he sank into her even deeper, hitting a spot that made her back bow off the mattress. Within seconds, her cry shattered into a wordless scream as her orgasm ripped through her.

It was cataclysmic. Through the bond, it was a supernova—a blinding, white-hot wave of ecstasy that crashed over him, pulling him under. Her body convulsed around him, milking his cock, and that was it. His own release tore through him with violent, wrenching force. He drove into her one last time, burying himself as deep as he could go, and poured himself into her with a roar that was part dragon, part man.

Pleasure, raw and endless, burned through every nerve as he collapsed against her, his face buried in the curve of her neck, breathing in the scent of lilies and their shared passion. His body shuddered with the aftershocks, his heart hammering against hers in a frantic rhythm. Then a strange harmony settled between them—their heartbeats, without conscious effort, began to sync.

For long minutes, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the distant roar of the Undying Flame on the terrace. Her hands moved over his sweat-slicked back in gentle, soothing strokes that felt like a benediction. He never wanted to move. He wanted to weld himself to her, to live forever in the quiet, perfect aftermath.

Eventually, with a reluctance that was a physical ache, he rolled to his side, taking her with him. She curled into his chest without hesitation, her head finding the spot over his heart as if she'd always belonged there. One of her hands rested on his sternum, the other draped over his waist. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, his chin resting on the top of her head.

The twin moons cast silver bars of light across the floor. Ashvorn slept below them. And in his arms, his fated mate drifted into sleep. Calix lay awake, listening to her breathing even out, feeling the warm weight of her trust against him. His dragon roared in contentment, but its demand was a constant hum in his blood.

Mark her. Make her ours forever.

Not yet, he told it, his resolve hardening as he watched the moonlight trace the line of her shoulder.

She had chosen to stay tonight. She had chosen him. That was a gift he hadn't dared hope for. In the morning, he would tell her everything. He would explain the bond, what it meant, what she was to him. He would lay his heart and his crown at her feet and pray to every ancestor that she would choose to keep him. Choose to stay forever.