But he didn’t give her what she desired. Instead, he broke their kiss and started a path downward, the knife still in his hand as he drew the sharp tip along her sternum, creating a path for his tongue to follow.
No blood, just a fine red line. It stung, but his mouth kissed away the prickling sensation.
It was such a Sethios thing to do. She reached down for his dark hair, her fingers threading through the strands as she tried to yank him back up to her. He smiled against her lower abdomen, then whispered, Release me, into her mind.
She obeyed because he left her no choice, and she growled in response.
“Mmm, I have missed that fire,” he said, his lips caressing her mound on the way to the apex between her thighs. “Almost as much as I’ve missed this.” His tongue parted her folds, drawing a sharp gasp from her throat.
And then he reminded her of just what he could do with his mouth.
This was the man who had tempted her to fall from grace. He’d forced her to feel, to love, to enjoy. These were the sensations Seraphim weren’t supposed to value. The reformation process had claimed this act to be impractical and not a worthwhile endeavor.
Well, it certainly felt worthwhile now.
Electricity hummed along her skin, raising all the hairs down her arms. Everything vibrated. Her stomach tightened. Her toes curled. Her body shook. Words fell from her lips, pleas she didn’t recognize, and Sethios bit down.
She erupted on a scream, ecstasy flooding every inch of her being and shattering her hold on reality. She burned. She quivered. She felt.
Oh, glorious feeling!
She’d spent too long in a pod without this, wasting time listening to stoic mantras on repeat in her mind.
But this… this was real. This was thriving. This. Was. Existing.
The taste of her own bliss met her tongue as Sethios kissed her, forcing her to embrace the pleasure he’d just forced upon her spirit. She accepted the kiss, returning it in kind and wrapping her arms around him as she did before.
He allowed it.
He settled between her legs.
And he thrust forward to join their bodies as one.
It hurt, her body unaccustomed to accepting his, but she welcomed the sweet ache, each pump of his hips a reminder of who they were together. As a unit. As one.
This was her Sethios, the one who had taught her how to truly fly, and he was returning her wings once more. Freedom had a taste, and this was it.
He’d found her at last.
Had returned her to the world of sensation and rapture and true survival. She thanked him with her hips, meeting his pace in a brutal coupling underlined in adoration and mutual respect.
She never wanted to stop.
Only, the flames inside her were reaching a boiling point all over again, inflaming her bloodstream and eliciting sharper quakes through her already trembling form.
“Sethios,” she breathed, burying her face in his neck.
“Bite me,” he said, his usual compulsion missing from the words. He wanted her to choose this, to reignite their bond, to stoke the sizzling inferno already smoldering between them.
It was her welcome back to reality. His way of ensuring she knew this was all happening in real life, not just inside her mind. He wanted her to feel that snap of their connection, to experience the power lurking within his blood.
She accepted the challenge, her incisors piercing his skin to drink the ambrosia from his veins.
He growled, his hips pumping faster, harsher, violently.
She felt his need, his pent-up rage at not being able to have her all these years, and the intense buildup of yearning from too long without her.
Memories spilled through their connection, ones of torment and aching, where Osiris had tested the limits of their relationship. The visions physically hurt, causing her to wince at the torture he’d endured and the residual anguish of the trials he’d faced.
“Don’t,” Sethios whispered. “Don’t, Caro.”
“It’s not me,” she replied softly, his pace slowing as the events continued to unfold between them. He pressed his face into her throat, his body shaking from the onslaught of exquisite agony.
His father had tried to force him to perform with other women, but he hadn’t been able to comply. Even when compelled, his body wouldn’t work, which created the worst kind of pain for Sethios.