Page 25 of A Court of Ravens
My magic rises with it, a raw force that crackles against my skin. Shadows flow from my fingertips, curling around his arms, clinging to him as if they need him as much as I do. They pulse like they’re drawn to the connection between us, to the power twisting between our bodies.
“Look at you,” he groans, his voice thick with something almost reverent. “Fucking beautiful.”
I dig my nails into his shoulders, my body tightening with every rough, desperate thrust. “Don’t you dare stop.”
His answering grin is wicked. “Not a fucking chance, love.”
He grips my wrists, pinning them above my head as his pace quickens. Every thrust drives me higher and sends pleasure licking through me in waves so intense they border on pain. His beard abrades my skin, his lip ring dragging against my neck as he kisses, bites and marks me.
Ceanglaíonn ár gcroíthe leis an tsolas agus leis an dorchadas, a vow of hearts intertwined with light and darkness. I hear the words as clearly as if he’d whispered them against my skin. I don’t know how I know what this is. I only know that I was born for it. The bond—theceangal—comes alive between us.
Threads of light and shadow twist together in a connection far older than us. They leave a mark on our skin. A raven’s wings stretch over my heart, its ink-black lines glowing silver, pulsing like a second heartbeat. Below it, a wraith-like púca rears up on its hind legs. A perfect mirror of the raven inks itself along his neck.
The room shifts.
Spectral beings wrapped in mist, their gazes heavy with judgment and approval. A horned god looms at the edge of my vision, his red eyes blazing as he lifts a hand in silent benediction. Beside him, a queen draped in shadows nods once, as if to say,Yes, this is how it must be.
The ethereal witnesses fade as the headboard slams against the wall. The bed shakes beneath us, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex and magic. His name is a broken prayer on my lips, a plea, a demand.
“Say it again,” he growls, his teeth grazing my throat. “Say my fucking name.”
“Niall.”It’s a gasp, a moan, a confession.
He releases my wrists and rewards me with a brutal thrust, his cock hitting that spot inside me that makes my vision go white. “That’s my good fucking girl.”
Our sweat-slick bodies grind together, every thrust driving me further into the fire. I move my hands over my head to wrap around the brass rungs and circle my legs around his hips. Over and over again, he hammers into me. The marks on our skin pulse in time with the rhythm of his hips, the energy between us growing stronger and hotter until it feels like the world might break apart.
“You feel this?” he whispers against my lips, his breath hot and unsteady. “This is what it means to be mine.”
“Yes,” I gasp. I’m acutely aware of every single spot where our bodies meet. I sheathe him to the hilt, my body stretching to take every inch of him. The burn is exquisite. My legs wrap around his hips, heels digging into his back, pulling him deeper. Harder. His hands grip my thighs, fingers digging into my flesh.
“Fuck,” he growls, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that does very bad things to me. “You take me so perfectly.”
Oh, fuck.Those filthy, possessive words spark something feral in me. I arch against him, my nails dragging down his back, leaving angry red trails. His hips snap against mine, driving deeper with each thrust, each movement a deliberate act of dominance.
“Oh, god! Ohhhhmygod!” My breathless moans only encourage him to move faster as I grab the headboard and tilt my hips to meet each stroke.
Power thrums between us. It’s alive, a pulse that syncs with my own. It threads through my mind, binding thought and sensation until I’m no longer sure where he ends, and I begin. It’s overwhelming, intoxicating. I can’t think, I can’t move. All I can do is feel—everything. Him. Us.This.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, his voice rough with strain. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, love?”
Heat coils low in my belly, winding tight, every nerve sparking as he pushes me closer to the edge. His fingers slip between us, finding my clit, and I shatter. The orgasm crashes over me, my magic snapping free in the wake of it. Shadows explode from my body, racing up the walls.
I ride my release against his fingers and his dick, but the fucking apocalypse has decided to detour straight into this bedroom. The walls don’t just tremble. They riot. A mirror cracks clean down the middle, its fractured surface catching the madness in shards of refracted light and shadow. Our writhing bodies turn into a kaleidoscope of destruction. So vivid and surreal.
The curtains whip around violently. One rips free entirely, wrapping itself around the ceiling fan. The fan spins erratically, groaning in protest before snapping off its base with a sound like thunder as it hits a wall.
What the fuck? What even is this?
A picture frame jerks off the nightstand like it’s had enough of this shit and smashes itself mid-air, shards of glass spinning lazily before raining down onto the floor. The dresser joins the rebellion, its drawers flinging themselves open, one tearing loose from its tracks and tumbling to the floor.
Niall doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch. If anything, he doubles down, thrusting harder. A low growl rumbles in his chest, vibrating against my skin. The bed rocks beneath us, and honestly, I think we’re about two thrusts away from a structural engineer’s worst nightmare. Tendrils of wraith-like energy weave around us, shielding us from the destruction, while the actual room looks like a battle zone.
And me? I’m holding on for dear life. I’m clutching him, clawing at him, biting my own damn lip to keep from crying out his name like I’m about to write it on a bathroom wall. The whole scene is absurdly hot, dangerously magical, and a little bit funny if I survive to think about it later.
His laugh is low, dark, entirely too satisfied, like he’s not ploughing into me while the entire room decides gravity is optional.
“Fuuuuuuck,” I yell as the headboard slams against the wall and a decorative vase keels over in the corner like it’s had enough. Peace, I’m out.
