Page 64 of The Bound Blood
My hands find her hips again, thumbs brushing the sharp dip above her pelvis like I’m memorizing a new spell by touch alone. She reaches between us, fingers wrapping around my base—cool against my fever-hot skin—and angles me upward. The blunt, swollen head of me nudges her entrance, enough to make my brain short-circuit.
Then she sinks down onto me.
The first inch is…impossible.
Hot. Wet. So tight it borders on resistance, like sliding into molten silk that’s decided to strangle me in the sweetest way. My crown presses in and her inner walls immediately flutter around me—alive, pulsing, gripping as though they’re trying to pull me deeper. I choke on a sound I don’t recognize.
“Lindsay—” Her name is half plea, half prayer.
She doesn’t stop. Another slow, deliberate inch. The stretch of her around my thickness is overwhelming—every ridge and vein of me dragging against soft heat. I can feel the exact shape of her molding to me, clinging, fluttering with tiny involuntary contractions that shoot lightning straight up my spine. Wetness coats me, easing the way, but the friction is still exquisite torture. My hips jerk without permission, sinking me another fraction deeper, and she gasps—a sharp, breathy sound that makes my balls tighten painfully.
I’m inside her.
Actually inside her.
The rest happens in fragments of sensation that blur together, expanding and contracting with the seconds that pass.
The slick glide as she takes me to the hilt, her ass settling flush against my thighs. The obscene, wet sound of our bodies finally locked together. The way her clit brushes my pubic bone on that last roll of her hips, making her shiver and clench hard around my entire length. I feel it everywhere.
I can’t breathe right. My hands dig into her hips hard enough I’m probably leaving marks, but she only moans and rocks forward, grinding down in a slow circle that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. Every tiny movement milks me—her walls rippling, squeezing, dragging along every sensitive inch until I’m shaking under her.
“I can feel you throbbing inside me,” she breathes against my mouth. “So deep…so full…”
That does it.
The coil at the base of my spine snaps without warning. Heat surges, white-hot and unstoppable. My hips snap up once—twice—burying myself as far as physics allows, and then I’m coming with a broken groan that echoes off the stone walls. Pulse after pulse of release floods her, each one wringing another shudder from me as her body flutters and grips like it’s drinking me down. I feel the warm rush of my own cum mixing with her slickness, leaking out around where we’re joined, and the sheer filth of it—combined with how perfect she feels—nearly blacks me out.
When the aftershocks finally ease, I’m trembling, spent, still buried inside her. Softening slowly while her walls give these tiny, lazy flutters around me like afterthoughts. She curls forward, cheek pressed to my pounding heart, blue hair spilling across my chest like spilled ink. I wrap both arms around her, holding on like she might vanish if I let go.
I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.
“Round two,” she murmurs teasingly, tracing lazy circles on my ribs. “You survived.”
“Barely,” I say hoarsely.
She laughs softly.
I stare up at the old carved ceiling of this forgotten tower, and I think—I’ll remember every inch of this place for the rest of my life.
Especially now.
TWENTY-FIVE
RAIDEN
The temple hallis quiet as I follow my father inside.
There are no whispers of council business or footfalls of passing attendants. Just the heavy silence of ancestral judgment clinging to the walls. My father strides forward as I pause in the doorway, and he comes to a stop near the altar as though he’s praying to long dead ancestors.
He always chooses places like this—hollowed-out spaces built for obedience and shame. It makes you feel small before anyone has even spoken.
“What do you want?” I ask, even though I know what this is about.
He doesn’t turn. “You were supposed to sever the bond.”
I don’t answer. I don’t lie either.
After the infirmary, I tried. I told myself I could pull back. That space would dilute it. That she’d be better off without the tangle of me inside her magic. But it didn’t work. When I saw her in that cell after she woke up, anger burned inside of me for how they were treating her, and still, I tried to put distance between us with my words.
