Page 30 of Fallen Nocturne

I am still staring when his voice cuts through the haze.

“Rhianelle,” he murmurs, his grip on my thighs tightening just enough to ground me.

I drag my gaze upward. He is watching me with an intensity that makes my breath falter. “Eyes on me.”

He holds my gaze. Then he drives into me in one deep stroke.

The sound that tears from my chest is raw and wordless. My fingers claw at the stone beneath me. Fullness stretches through me so completely that I cannot breathe, cannot think, cannot do anything but feel the overwhelming reality of him inside me.

He stills, buried to the hilt. His thumbs trace slow circles against the inside of my thighs.

“I have dreamed of this,” he says quietly. “Of having you like this. Of seeing you beneath me, taking me so perfectly.”

His hips draw back and return in a shallow stroke. Then another. Then another. Each controlled movement rocks into me with just enough depth to make my toes curl. He watches my face the whole time, those burning eyes capturing every flicker of expression, every caught breath, every tiny sound I make.

The stretch pulls a moan from somewhere deep in my chest.

“I have missed you,” he murmurs, pulling my hips tighter against his. His next thrust buries him deeper than before.

Pleasure crashes through me in a blinding wave. My eyes roll back and my head drops against the stone. When my vision returns, he is above me, candlelight tracing the hard line of his jaw. He is beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful.

“I would burn the world down to hear you say my name again,” he murmurs, his blazing eyes fixed on mine through the mask.

I want to say it.

The answer rises inside me, but I do not know what name belongs to him.

I raise my arms toward him. My hands tremble. I cannot reach him from here, not with him standing at the edge of the altar and my back flat against the stone.

A small, broken sound escapes me at the distance between us. “I need you.”

Something shifts in his expression. He lifts one knee onto the altar, then pulls himself up entirely. The muscles in his arms flex as he climbs over me. For a terrifying second, I am certain the stone will crack beneath us.

He settles between my thighs and braces himself above me, closing the gap I could not cross. My hands find his shoulders, the warm skin and the hard muscle beneath. I pull him down and he lets me, lowering himself until his chest presses against mine. I can feel his heartbeat through both our bodies.

“I have searched for you across lifetimes.” His forehead rests against mine, and his voice drops to a whisper. “Tell me you feel something. Anything.”

I feel everything.

His hips shift and he pushes into me again. He sinks into me slowly this time.

The stretch is different from this angle. It’s deeper and fuller, reaching into the deepest part of me. I feel every inch of him with his weight above me, his chest against mine, his breath hot against my temple. My nails dig into his back before I can stop them.

“You chose me once. Choose me again,” he says, the plea barely hidden beneath the command.

His rhythm is slow and deep. Every thrust fills me completely, and when he draws back, the absence aches until he returns. My hips rise to meet him. One of his hands cradles the back of my head, keeping my skull from the stone. The tenderness of that small gesture undoes me more than anything that came before it.

Something sparks in my lower belly, building again. I already came multiple times and my body should be wrung out by now. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. He makes a sound that’s almost a growl.

His pace quickens. The altar creaks beneath us and the candles flicker. I can feel his control fraying, the careful restraint giving way to something rawer and wilder.

“You are mine,” he mutters.

Yes.

I come apart quietly this time. No screaming. No thrashing. The pleasure rolls through me in a long, shuddering wave that pulls a soft cry from my lips and tightens my arms around his neck. I bury my face against his throat.

I can feel him getting close too, feel it in the tension of his body and the ragged sound of his breathing.