Page 37 of Elysian

Keeping his eyes on mine, he yanked the bottom of my frock up.

“Cassiel.” My hiss was cut off by the tip of his shaft pressing at my entrance. It was too late. I could not fight it, but I did not want to. I had to claim him as much as he claimed me.

“I still loathe you,” I panted, and a moan caught in my throat as he slid inside, bit by bit.

Being in his arms was an experience I could not help but crave. His touch, even his grunts and orders, all of it served to render me a fool. I slid my hand up into his hair, arching my spine to take more of him. My channel clamped around him and he stopped the careful thrusts.

“More,” I breathed, yanking his hair.

“No,” he growled, taking my hips in both hands. I leaned back until the wall braced me. With careful glides, he slid into me. Taking his time in a way that pointed to fear of breaking me.

The stretch of him inside me caused this burning need deep in my belly. A low, simmering urge that only intensified with his thrusts. I closed my eyes, tilting my head back and feeling the glide of his silk shaft rubbing against me.

He stopped before feeding me his knot each time, but he ground it against me as if making a point that he was purposely withholding it from me.

Ecstasy trickled through my veins until I could not breathe without feeling it. My breasts rubbed against the rough fabric, inflaming me even more. Pulses of desire assaulted my channel, clamping me down on him. My release wrenched through me soon after. I cried out, yanking at his hair madly.

He rubbed his cheek against the side of my head, keeping the unrelenting rhythm. My climax flowed through me in a soft, lulling pleasure that caused my senses to dampen.

Cries and moans spilled from my mouth.

Cassiel wound both arms around my waist and leaned down to the place where my shoulder and neck met. Teeth sank into my flesh with a pop.

He sucked, and it sent jolts of need between my legs. I was still sensitive from my first release, but when he sucked again, it sent me again into crashing ecstasy.

Ringing engulfed my ability to hear.

The length inside me squeezed with jolts that came with gushes inside me. His guttural moan wrenched through me, forcing my sex to clamp around him as if with a mind of its own.

His tongue traced my throat. ‘I adore my marks on your perfect flesh.’

Exhaling with a shuddering breath, my eyes tightly closed, I dropped my legs, pushing at his chest. He had claimed me so openly, so hurriedly, when moments ago, I had let Egan kiss me. Egan who had claimed my mouth gently compared to Cassiel’s possessive claim. I hated that I preferred one over the other. I wish it were the opposite. That I wanted what was good for me, not what I could not breathe without.

A light creak of wood came from the entrance.

Cassiel hissed, turning and placing my body behind him.

“Collect yourself. I have need of you, Miss Amara,” Al’s voice echoed from a few paces away. “We have another Hollow Plague corpse to inspect.”

I scrambled to shove my frock down, heat searing my cheeks.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Illness

The ceiling swam into focus above me. I could not move. When I lifted my leg, it sent shards of agony through every inch.

Al’s face blurred before me. His mouth moved, but I could not hear the words. My vision wavered again, and when it refocused, Al and Hester stood beside the cot I slept in every nightfall.

Al took a vial from Hester’s hand. Was it that truth serum he had worked on? He pressed it to my lips, and I kept them sealed. He withdrew it.

“What is that?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Tonic so you’re not hindered by inconvenient human bodily urges.”

When he pressed it against my mouth, I had no choice but to choke it down. Hester replaced Al with my next blink.

“Inch my slippers under the cot,” I begged.