Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
I feel the brief flare of magic again—the trick fires can use to sterilize themselves.
Then he’s pushing into me, inch by exquisite inch, giving me time to adjust to the stretch, to the fullness.
When buried in me all the way, the sensation is even more overwhelming than that first time. I already know the feel of him, the perfect way our bodies fit together, but there's something about this moment—maybe the knowledge that tomorrow could be our last—that makes everything more intense, more significant.
"You feel like you were fucking made for me," he murmurs, his voice strained with the effort of remaining still.
"Move," I urge, my hands sliding down to grip his hips. "Please, Raith."
He begins to thrust, slowly at first, watching my face with fascination and hunger.
"Let go," I urge, wrapping my legs around his waist to draw him deeper. "Just let go, Raith. I can take it. I can take you. All of you,” my words blur into moans as each sentence pushes him farther over the edge. “Fuck me the way you want, Raith. As hard as you want.”
With a groan that sounds almost pained, he surrenders, abandoning that careful control. His movements grow more urgent, more primal, and I match him thrust for thrust, my nails digging into the solid muscle of his back as pleasure builds within me once more, hips rising to meet him as our bodies collide.
I hear my own desperate moans as if they're coming from someone else. It feels like I'm hardly in control anymore, like desire slid its velvety fingers around the controls of my body and has taken me over.
Our connection pulses stronger with our physical intimacy. Magic surges through us both, his fire essence mingling with my unbound power in a dance as ancient as the elements themselves. The candles around the room transform, their flames stretching into ribbons that curl and twist through the air like living things. Clouds gather above us, curling and twisting across the ceiling as a fine mist begins to fall, soaking everything in my room.
Maybe in the morning I'll care, but right now, I don't.
I see and hear steam hissing as the cold water falls on his fire-hot skin.
I can feel his approaching climax mirrored in my own body, his rhythm growing more erratic as he nears the edge. One of his hands slides between us, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs, circling in tight, precise motions that have me gasping.
"Come for me again," he demands, his voice rough with need. "Break apart for me. With me."
His words push me over the edge. I explode beneath him, crying out his name as pleasure radiates outward from my core in waves of mounting intensity. My inner walls clench around him, drawing him deeper, and I feel the moment he follows me into oblivion.
Fire essence rushes through me, hot and wild and exhilarating, as his climax triggers currents of even greater pleasure through my body. His ecstasy becomes mine, mine becomes his, transforming both into something transcendent, a perfect unity of sensation.
The rainclouds conjured by my wild magic thicken and the mist turns to a small downpour, absolutely soaking us, my bed, the sheets, and what little furniture I have in my room. The candle flames sputter in the falling water, spraying magical golden sparks as they extinguish—globes of light that hang suspended in the air for breathtaking seconds before fading to darkness.
As the aftershocks of our pleasure fade, the magic dims and passes, too. Raith collapses beside me, careful not to crush me with his weight. His arms wrap around me, drawing me against his chest as we both struggle to catch our breath. I can feel his heart pounding in time with mine, his skin slick with sweat against my own.
For long moments, we lie in silence, the only sounds our gradually slowing breaths and beating hearts.
His fingers trace idle patterns on my bare shoulder, and I find myself melting into his touch, boneless with satisfaction. "Did we just cause a rainstorm to nearly flood my room?" I ask, a note of wonder in my voice.
He huffs a quiet laugh, the sound vibrating through his chest beneath my ear. "I think we might have," he admits. "Your power is something else."
"It wasn't just me," I point out, my fingertips tracing the lines of muscle across his abdomen. "You're pretty formidable yourself."
"Together, then," he says, and there's something in his voice—a weight, a significance—that makes me lift my head to look at him.
His eyes meet mine in the darkness, golden as a sunrise even in the dim morning light. There's an openness there that I've never seen before, the careful mask he usually wears completely gone.
"Together," I agree softly.
In the aftermath, we lie tangled together, his warmth both drying and heating the soaked blankets and sheets. He keeps me close, one arm curled protectively around my waist. Eventually, I feel his magic flare and the room grows hotter. Steam rises as he magically dries the water on the floor, my bed, and even our bodies. The warm magic feels his him. Like his hands all over my body again, lovingly wiping away every drop of water and making sure I’m perfectly dry.