Onyx Storm: Chapter 25

The most useless word in the language of aristocracy has always been and will forever be: love. Marriage is a necessary evil to secure the line. Nothing more. Save love for your children.

—Confiscated Correspondence of Fen Riorson to Unknown Intended Recipient I abandon my towel and my common sense, throwing my arms around his neck and pouring my whole heart into the kiss. Who cares if we’re in a house full of servants and a viscount I don’t trust? If Xaden has set sexual limits between us the last six weeks? He’s kissing me like I’m the only air he can breathe, and that’s all that matters—all that I can allow to matter.

My wet feet slip on the tile, and then there’s nothing beneath them as I’m lifted to his chest. The sensation of my bare breasts against his damp skin makes me gasp around his tongue.

He groans, holding me with one hand under my ass as I wrap my legs around his waist. I nudge his towel straight to the floor before locking my ankles, leaving us skin to skin as he kisses me senseless, robbing me of logic and replacing it with pure want.

Our mouths collide again and again without finesse or seduction. There’s no flirtation or coy games here. No, it’s all hunger and blatant, naked demand. It’s fucking perfect, unrestrained, and absolutely greedy.

The room moves, or maybe that’s us. Either way, the lighting changes, and I find myself perched on the edge of the small breakfast table a few feet from the bedroom window. I rip my mouth from his to scan our surroundings, but Xaden cups my chin and pulls me right back.

“No one can see at this angle. I checked,” he promises, then goes right back to kissing me, wiping every protest out of my head with the indulgent stroke of his tongue.

Wait. He checked. He’s thought about this.

Oh gods, this might actually happen.

Heat and need rush through me, bringing every nerve to blaring life. It doesn’t feel like it’s only been six weeks since I’ve had all of him above me, below me, within me—it seems like it’s been years.

He winds my wet hair around his hand, then tugs my head backward gently, breaking the kiss and setting his lips to my throat. Every touch of his lips sends a jolt of yes straight down my spine, and they quickly gather into an aching knot of please right between my thighs.

My nails rake into his hair and I arch for more, whimpering softly when he delivers, toying with me expertly. He uses his firm lips, soft tongue, and rough stubble to their every advantage, until I’m pretty sure he could get me off by just kissing my neck.

“I love your skin,” he says, working his way down to my collarbone. “You’re so damned soft.”

My pulse jumps and my hands drift to the strong line of his shoulders, touching every inch of his warm skin that I can reach. I want to lay him down on that bed and lick every single line that he’s kept hidden away from me for the last six weeks, but there’s no way I’m going to chance him stopping this for a change of position.

He abandons my hair, then brings both hands to cup my breasts. I suck in a swift breath when he lowers his mouth to one peak and then uses his tongue and teeth to worship it. Holy shit does that feel good. My body is positively starved for his touch, and it’s all I can do to stifle a flat-out moan when he moves to the other.

“Shh,” he whispers with a playful smile. “Wouldn’t want anyone to hear.”

It’s the smile that does me in, a fear that borders on frenzy breaking through the haze of pleasure he’s building. “You can’t tease me.” I shake my head.

His hands shift to my hips and he stands to his full height, his brow creasing as confusion fills those gorgeous eyes looking down at me.

“I mean, you can,” I immediately blurt, my hands falling to the table. “It’s just that I want you, need you, and I’m trying really hard to respect the whole no-sex aspect of the rules we laid down, and if you tease me—”

He fucking smirks, and I debate going back to the throwing-daggers-at-his-head stage of our relationship. “There’s no magic here.”

“Yes, I know.” I fold my arms over my breasts and move to close my thighs, but he’s standing between them.

“There’s no magic here,” he says again, lowering his head, ghosting his lips over mine. “I can fuck you as many times as we want, as many times as you can take, and I can’t lose control.”

“Oh.” My whole body draws tighter than a bowstring, and my breath catches.

“Oh.” He runs his thumbs up the insides of my thighs and locks his eyes on mine. “Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?”

I run my tongue over my lower lip, and his hands flex. “Only if you are. I feel like…” I swallow. “I just don’t want to push you for something you don’t feel comfortable doing.”

He takes my hand and wraps it around the length of his hard cock. “Does that feel like I’m not comfortable?”

I squeeze my hand on reflex, and he moans low in his throat, his eyes sliding shut. My core clenches at just how hot, how thick, how perfect he is.

“Fuck, Violet, you do that again, and this will be over in minutes.” There’s an edge of desperation in his eyes when they open, and he hisses through his teeth as he guides my hand away from his body. “Me holding back from you has been purely for your sake, not mine, trust me. I want you from the second I wake until the moment I fall asleep. I dream about you.”

My lips part and warmth spreads throughout my chest. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He cups my knees. “And here, I don’t have my fucking powers. Don’t get me wrong, there’s part of that I am very all right with—”

My stomach drops. The venin part.

“But no shadows,” he continues, “no intention, no lesser magics? I can’t even create a sound shield to keep everyone in this house from hearing what you sound like when you come, and that feels…” His jaw flexes.

“I know,” I whisper, skimming the back of my hand along his stubble. Not having that constant stream of power buzzing beneath my skin makes me feel…less than whole.

“And I can’t talk to Sgaeyl,” he adds. “I can’t even sense you, which is killing me. But in return for all that shit?” His scarred brow rises. “I get to do my favorite thing in the world, which happens to be fucking you. Now, I have about six weeks to make up for, and love, we’re wasting time.”

I brace my hands beside me and smile when his eyes darken at the sight of my body. “Well, if you insist.”

A slow smile curves his mouth, and he pushes my knees farther apart. “I insist.”

My laugh abruptly transforms to a moan when he sinks to his knees and sets his mouth on me.

Oh. Fuck.

He doesn’t tease or toy—no, he immediately swirls his tongue around my clit and sinks two fingers inside me. “Damn, I’ve missed your taste.”

“Xaden!” Pleasure jolts through my system like power, buzzing in my veins and landing low in my stomach. I slam my hand over my mouth to catch my next moan as he starts to move those exceptionally talented fingers, his tongue working in rhythm to play my body like an instrument created just for him.

Tension gathers and coils, and it’s all I can do to stay upright, to keep balanced with one hand and stifle my moans with the other. I waver, my body swaying, and Xaden reaches for my mouth.

I pull his hand to my lips and press a hard kiss to his palm as my hips begin to rock against his face and other hand, chasing the high I can feel approaching with every thrust of his fingers, every flick of his tongue.

But I want more. I want him inside me, his arms around me, his voice in my head… We can have all but the last and it’s more than enough.

It’s good. So fucking good. My breath catches and my thighs stiffen.

He curls his fingers and lashes his tongue against my clit, and I unravel. My climax hits hard and fast, and I shout against his palm as white-hot pleasure pulls me over the edge in bright waves that hit again and again, robbing me of breath as they race through me.

He coaxes the aftershocks from me relentlessly, working my body until the last of them shudder through.

“I have no words for the havoc that mouth can wreak. Get up here.” I kiss his wrist, and he stands, dragging his thumb along his lower lip. My temperature rises another degree and my breath hitches as my gaze rakes over him.

Mine. It’s the only word that comes to mind as I devour the sight of him.

“Keep looking at me like that…” he warns, prowling toward me. He slides his hands beneath my thighs and lifts me farther back on the table.

“And you’ll what?” I lie down, bringing my heels to the surface as he climbs onto me, bracing his weight on his palms.

“Good point.” He lowers his mouth to mine, and his arms tremble slightly. “I need you.”

“I’m right here.” I lift my knees to bracket his hips and reach between our bodies to bring the head of his cock to my entrance. We both inhale at the contact, and his eyes flare.

“Are you sure? You know what I am,” he says slowly, and a flicker of something that looks like fear crosses his face.

“I know who you are.” I cradle his cheeks with my hands. “Now, Xaden. You have six weeks to make up for, remember?”

He nods, keeping his gaze locked with mine, then shifts a hand to my hip and drives into me in one long thrust, taking me inch by inch by inch until he’s all I can feel. The pressure, the stretch, the feel of him is so perfect that my foolish eyes prickle because I’ve missed this connection so damn much.

“Are you all right?” His eyes widen and his hips jerk back.

“I’m fine!” I wrap my legs around him. “I just missed this.”

“Me too.” He drops his forehead to mine and rolls his hips, sinking into me.

We both moan.

“I miss being inside your head.” He withdraws, then snaps forward again, and I see stars. Pleasure shoots through my very bones as he begins that deep, slow rhythm I can never get enough of. “I love having every part of you when we’re like this.”

“Same.” I wind my arms around his neck and hold on, arching to meet every delectable thrust as sweat quickly slicks our bodies. “I love when you talk to me…” My fingers slide over his lips. “Even when your mouth is otherwise occupied.”

He grins, but it slips when I swivel my hips and he groans. “Fuck, you feel so damned good. I’m never giving you up. You know that, right? You had your chance to run. You should have run, Vi.” He punctuates each claim with a harder, deeper thrust that has me straining for breath, for reasonable thought that goes beyond more and yes as wood creaks beneath us.

I pull his mouth down to mine and breathe through the keening pleasure that’s building within me again, deeper and hotter than before. “I’m never running. It’s you and me, no matter what.”

“You and me,” he repeats, sweat beading on his brow as his hips drive me into the table, and it creaks, starting to rock with us.

“Just don’t stop.” I’m pretty sure stopping might kill me. I hold tight with my arms, my legs, clinging to him with everything I have as he lowers his weight to his forearm, cushions the back of my head with his hand, and drives into me, taking me higher and higher.

Wood snaps a second before gravity shifts, and my stomach hollows as we fall.

My skin only touches his on impact.

He has me held against his chest with one arm, while his other and his knees took the brunt of our mishap.

“Are you all right?” I ask, my face buried in his neck.

“I’m fine. We fell three feet, not thirty.” He laughs, rolling us off the destroyed table and onto the hardwood floor, careful not to crush my ankles. Then he picks up right where he left off, except this time I’m close enough to the bedrail to push back against him for leverage.

“Hold on.” He reaches over my head, retrieves a pillow, then slides it under my hips. The next thrust hits such a sweet spot that I can taste it.

He muffles my cry with his mouth as I arch up for him again and again, savoring every breath through his gritted teeth, every strained line of his incredible body, every drugging kiss as the pleasure spins tighter and tighter between us.

And gods help me, I hold on as long as humanly possible. I don’t want it to end, don’t want to go back to the endless wanting. A whimper escapes my lips as I fight the pressure, the oncoming wave I know I can’t avoid, not when every roll of his hips drives me toward it.

“You have to let go for me, love.” Xaden nips my lower lip.

“I’m not…” I gasp, my body twisting beneath his. Fuck, it feels too damned good.

“You are.” His hand drifts down my stomach. “I don’t need to be in your head to know why you’re fighting it. This isn’t the only time, Vi. We have all night. Come for me.”

All night sounds better than any heaven I know of.

I sink my fingers into his hair as he strokes my hypersensitive clit with the precise pressure he knows I like, and I shatter. I fly apart at the seams as the orgasm surges through me in arching pulses. He swallows my moans with a kiss as the waves break again and again, and then he puts me back together with soft strokes of his hands as I come back down.

“So beautiful,” he whispers against my mouth, and only when I fall against the floor, a trembling, happily content mess, does he kiss me like he’s searching for his own soul and finds his own completion with a few final hard thrusts and a low groan.

I hold him tight as he rolls us to the side, his back to the destruction, and he cradles my head on his biceps.

I trace the line of the scar across his brow as my heartbeat settles and commit the contours of his face to memory again while he watches me with a glazed, soft expression. There’s too much of us missing here for this to truly be us, but it’s a version that I want to cling to, where he isn’t plagued by the threat of turning, where he isn’t telling me that I have to learn how to kill him. “We could just stay here,” I whisper.

His brow twitches, and he pushes my hair back from my face. “Here as in this room?”

“Here as in Deverelli.” I run my fingers along his jaw. “I can take Tecarus’s offer…if Tairn and Andarna agree. I’m sure they would if it means you stop all progression until I can find a cure. You and Sgaeyl could stay here while I do the research—”

He slides his thumb over my lips. “She’s in pain.”

I blink.

How could I have missed that? Guilt weighs down my shoulders.

“All the dragons are, I think, not that they’ll admit it, but I don’t think they can survive—or at least thrive the way they do at home—away from magic. I could never cause Sgaeyl pain.” He skims his callused hand down the side of my neck and over my ribs to settle on the slope of my waist. “And I could never let you abandon everyone you love.”

A boulder lodges in the middle of my throat.

Someone knocks.

“Hey…uh…” Ridoc says through the door.

My face flushes, and I cover my mouth with my hand.

“We’re all good,” Xaden calls out with a wicked grin, stroking my hip.

“Yeah, that’s…great,” Ridoc says. “No, I’m not—” His voice muffles.

“Look, we have a problem here,” Cat snaps.

“Shouting it through the door isn’t going to help,” Dain says.

“Get away from there!” Mira lectures, and both Xaden and I scramble to our feet. “Violet, answer the door.”

How many people are crowded into that hallway?

Xaden’s faster to the bathroom than I am, and he throws my towel through the doorway, making sure I catch it before striding out with his own wrapped around his hips.

“You can’t answer the door like that,” I hiss at him, covering myself and bemoaning how long it will take to get my clothes on.

“Neither can you, and I’m sure as fuck not offering the sight of you in a towel up to Aetos after hearing that your father basically planned your wedding to the asshole,” Xaden retorts just as quietly, his hand on the doorknob.

I recognize defeat and step toward the wall, out of sight, as Xaden opens the door.

“To what do we owe the honor of a visit from every single one of you?” he asks. “I thought two of you were flying the southern route to confirm there aren’t any irids hiding out here?”

Silence answers.

I lean left, just enough to see Xaden glance over his shoulder. “Yes, the table is broken. Now, what do you need?”

“You two totally broke it, didn’t you?” Ridoc asks on the edge of laughter. “Like that armoire no one was supposed to notice getting hauled out of her room during first year?”

“The what?” Mira’s voice rises, and I lean against the wall, letting my head fall back in mortification.

“What could be so fucking important that you’re trying to ruin my one evening?” Xaden snaps.

“A messenger came,” Dain says. “King Courtlyn has decided to keep Halden.”

My stomach pitches.

“Too fucking bad for Halden.” Xaden shrugs.

“Xaden!” I lift my brows at him, and his mouth tightens.

“We’re flying out as planned, but Tecarus needs you,” Dain continues. “You’re the only aristocrat they’ll let in.”

“You have to go,” I whisper.

Xaden looks my way, and too many emotions to count cross his beautiful face. Want. Desperation. Pleading. Frustration. Anger. Resignation. “Fuck. Fine.” He slams the door in their faces. “We have to go.”