Page 177 of House Ignis

I arched off the bed, a choked, broken sound leaving my throat, but his shadows held me pinned exactly where he wanted me.

He licked again—firmer, more purposeful—before closing his lips around me and sucking.

The sensation sent shockwaves through me.

"Asher—" My voice broke on his name, a desperate plea for the end and the beginning all at once.

He hummed against me, the vibration shivering through my skin and sinking into my marrow.

His tongue began to move again, alternating between long, punishingly lazy strokes and sharp, precise flicks that had me clawing at the silk sheets beneath me.

His hands tightened on my thighs, bruising and possessive, spreading me wider still as he buried himself deeper, devouring me like a male who had been starved for centuries.

When his fingers finally slid inside me—two, curling deep and perfect—my back bowed, pleasure tearing through me so fast it stole the air from my lungs.

He worked me relentlessly, his mouth and fingers coaxing and demanding every tremor, every desperate gasp, until my climax tore free from my throat.

I was left trembling and panting, completely wrecked against the mattress.

Only then did he rise.

He rose over me in one fluid motion.

His shirt was gone in a heartbeat—tossed into the shadows.

His black tattoos gleamed in the low light, but it was the bond mark on his chest that held me; it was blazing a brilliant silver. With a flicker of his mind, his shadows reached out, peeling away the ruined scraps of my lace bodice and silk skirt until they pooled like ink at my feet.

I was bare. Exposed. And already his.

"On all fours," he commanded.

Gods, I felt a fresh wave of heat hit me just from the absolute command in his voice.

My heart pounded against my ribs as I obeyed, the bed dipping under my weight as I braced my hands against the pillows.

"You're going to pay for every second you let him touch you," he murmured.

His hand ran slowly over my skin before—slap—the sharp sting of his palm made me squeal, the sound cut short by the sudden, frantic tightening of my own muscles.

“I swear, princess.” His voice was a low promise in the quiet room.

I will make you writhe until your legs shake so hard you won't remember your own name—only mine."

The ache between my thighs was unbearable, a pulsing, heavy need that made me nod desperately against the bed.

His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling my head back until my spine arched and his length pressed against me from behind—hard, hot, and unyielding.

"Gods, Ava… I can smell you," he rasped, his inhale feral as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. His tone was wrecked, his control hanging by a single, frayed thread.

"A-Asher… please…" I begged, the word a broken prayer.

He turned me around in one fluid, powerful motion, pinning me beneath him. I looked up into his face—and the breath died in my throat. The silver was gone. His irises had bled into a terrifying, pitch-black void. Entirely.

I didn't say a word. I didn't recoil. I just opened myself and let the darkness take me.

"I will give you everything, darling," he growled, the shadows in the room rising up to swallow the bed, his voice carrying the absolute authority of a king.

"The world, the crown, and every drop of the darkness that comes with it. That, I swear to you."