I loved it. Archer had always seemed so stoic, so rigid and in control of himself, even when things were going crazy around him. I loved that I was the one he lost control for, the one who made that wall he had built so high around him crumble just a little.
Flashing me a sexy grin, those wicked looking fangs shining in the flickering light of the candle, Archer stared down at me, his shadows beginning to swirl around us, and as he pressed the palm of his hand to the center of my chest—directly over the pendants that hung there—I could feel the connection between us pulsing and growing, turning into something more than just a feeling.
It was becoming a lifeline.
“You’re here,” Archer repeated, licking his lips with his forked tongue. “And you’remine!”
Chapter forty-one
Archer
The bond throbbed, a living, breathing thing within my soul.
Under my hands, I could feel Delilah’s heart beating, racing like a frightened rabbit, and the beast within me growled in anticipation. I was desperate for another taste of her.
All of her.
And I was through waiting.
Reaching down, I curled my hands under her thighs, smirking at the shocked squeal she released when I hefted her into my arms and turned from the wall to the bed. Around us, my shadows undulated like a black sea, rising and falling in time with each of my rapid breaths.
Reaching the bed, I tossed Delilah lightly and she gasped as she bounced on the plush mattress. She opened hermouth—likely to protest—but before she could utter a word, I leaned over her, one hand on the mattress by her head as I pressed a finger to her lips.
“Don’t speak, witch, unless it is to beg me to fuck you.”
“I—”
“I mean it,” I snarled, gnashing my teeth at her. “Not a single sound unless it’s you crying my name for more.” She blinked at me, eyes wide. “Nod if you understand.”
After a second’s hesitation, she nodded, and I felt my mouth curving into a dark smile.
“Excellent. Now, lay back, witch, while I taste my mate.”
I watched as her eyes widened, the shock of my words sinking in, but any protest she had died on her lips when I reared up, grasped the hem of her dowdy dress, andpulled, ripping it all the way to her navel.
Looking at her, seeing the blushing pink of her pussy staring back at me, I felt my cock twitch behind my pants. She was perfect—of course, she was—flushed and rosy and dripping for me. Curling my hands over her thighs, I spread her wider, growling when her dewy lips clung together for a second longer, then popped open, showing me all of her.
I’d touched her before; in the Void, I’d had my fingers buried in her heat, feeling the slick walls of her clenching against me with every thrust.
I’d smelled her often; whether she knew it or not, the rich musk of her arousal had floated my way on several occasions—usually when we were bickering at one another.
But I’d never tasted her, and that was a crime for which I would pay a thousand lifetimes.
Not wanting to waste another second, I leaned in, letting the scent of her wash over me as I extended my tongue and took a long, slow lick.
“Fucking delicious.” As I said the words, Delilah moaned, her muscles clenching around nothing while she writhed against my hold, her hips involuntarily tipping toward me. Unable to deny her any longer, I began to feast, consuming her with everything I had. My tongue—longer and more agile than any mere human could ever hope to have—snaked inside her, teasing along her sensitive walls until she gave me another of those delightful squeals. “You’re everything I never dreamed I could have.”
Delilah gasped at my words, her hands flying to my head to tug at my hair. She froze for a moment when her questing fingers encountered the stubs of my horns, not fully extended, but definitely noticeable. I paused, waiting for her to freak out. To bolt from the strangeness that she was aware of but not quite used to.
But my witch didn’t bolt. She doubled down.
Letting out a sound between a grunt and a growl, my witched grabbed both horns in her tiny fists and pulled, shoving my face back against her weeping pussy with more force than I would have given her credit for.
Happy to oblige, I continued to devour her, needing to know every single inch of her body. Needing to taste her pleasure, to drink it down like sweet ambrosia.
“Archer!”
She was close, her body bucking beneath my hands as she rode my face, chasing her orgasm. Beneath my knees, the floor boards began to vibrate, and the dim light of the lamps flared, the bulbs buzzing like live wires all around us, but I ignored it all, intent on my mate and the feel of my tongue inside her.
