in my ears when I felt something entirely different. Heat erupted inside me as he thrust mindlessly. He pumped his seed into my body, an endless amount. My hips jerked and I felt like I was coming again. A second smaller orgasm erupted, making me moan as the hot lashes and spurts of his seed filled me.
He gave another desperate, hoarse groan before his body slackened, before he fell back amongst the furs, his chest heaving, both of us sweaty and spent.
His cock was still throbbing and hard inside me as I collapsed forward. My cheek pressed next to his nipple and I felt the strong thud of his heartbeat, quick and sporadic before beginning to even.
The Dakkari recovered fast, I realized. I still felt out of breath and weakened.
When I dared to lift my head, I saw he was staring up at the ceiling of his domed voliki. His expression was unreadable…but it made dismay and dread churn in my belly. He looked almost anguished and yet pensive. His jaw was clenched tight, despite the fact that the rest of his body was loose and relaxed.
Then he met my gaze, his eyes flickering down towards me. He erased his expression with surprising efficiency, blinking once, twice, three times, before the backs of his claws came up to brush against my lips.
Who are you? I wondered silently, staring at him, thinking about his expression and what had caused it. Had he not liked it? But he’d seemed to.
When he spoke, it wasn’t what I expected.
“Tell me your name, leikavi,” he rasped, his voice low in the sudden hushed quiet of the voliki.
“You know my name.”
“I want it all now,” he said. So, he hadn’t forgotten my little comment. “So I can have as much power over you as you have over me.”
My breath hitched when his hips moved slightly, when his still hardened cock slid against my sensitive inner walls.
I didn’t think I had another round of that left in me. I didn’t even think I could move right then.
“Vivienne is my full name,” I told him softly, thinking it fair. Especially since I’d stolen his name from his own memory. “But Maman and my siblings have always called me Vienne.”
He looked thoughtful again.
“Vivi,” he murmured.
I stilled.
My father had never called me Vienne. He’d always called me Vivi. His Vivi. And hearing Davik call me that brought a welling of emotion, brought tears to my eyes before I blinked them away.
I didn’t want him to call me that…and yet I did. It felt good. It felt familiar. It reminded me that at one time, I’d been happy. We’d been happy, my family and I. Though we hadn’t had much, at least we’d had each other.
Then a Dakkari horde had stolen it all away. The Ghertun took what was left.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“My father always called me Vivi,” the little white-haired creature lying against my chest told me. Softly, she said, “He was killed by a Vorakkar.”
I tensed.
Her words from our journey to my horde returned to me. She’d told me she’d learned to fear the Vorakkars but would not tell me why.
Now I knew.
There was a lingering question in her voice…and that unspoken thing made me pull her off my body. There was a wet sound between us as my seed leaked from her and I reached over towards the furs hanging close to the fire basin, the ones I used to dry off after baths. I cleaned my cock first, still slick from my come and her own.
“What are you asking me?” I growled softly before turning towards her. Even though irritation made my voice gruff, I tried to be gentle as I wiped my seed from between her thighs.
Her breath hitched. I saw she was tender, a little reddened. Some blood had mixed with my seed and the sight of it made me angry all over again. The tension was just bubbling under the surface of my skin, waiting to break free.
I’d almost lost control with her. In a bad way. Then again, I’d been trained to.
That thought cut me. A flash of a memory rose before my eyes. Of her body on top of mine, of her golden eyes glowing in the darkness, and her gold-painted lips smearing across my skin. She’d always painted herself for our…encounters.
Nausea roiled in my belly—my still hardened cock finally began to soften—but I breathed in deeply, throwing the spare furs back towards the fire. I swore I could smell that cloying, overly spiced