Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
She arches beneath me, mewling sweetly. Her hands slip through my hair, clutching at the strands, the move almost raw and desperate, as if the unrelenting desire of the bond had finally caught up with her, demanding an outlet. As if she needs me as desperately as I need her.
Her Light calls me, beckoning me closer, compelling me to her. Does she even know she does it? Shines her Light upon me every time I touch her? Does she feel her soul responding to mine every time my mouth moves with hers? Gods help me, does she have any concept of what it does to me to feel her, not Fae to Valkyrie, but man to woman?
I ache for her in ways I cannot put to words. There are none for the hunger she sends raging through me with every beat of my heart.
I flip her over, praying the change of position grants me a modicum of control. It does not.
She settles over me, her hips flush with mine. The heat of her center nestles against my cock. My back teeth ache from her sweetness.
"Rissa," I groan, breaking our kiss. "You kiss me, and I forget the dark exists."
"Then let's deny its existence a little while longer, Dax," she demands. "Kiss me again."
"Valkyrie."
She growls as if she thinks I intend to deny her—as if I could—and leans down, biting my bottom lip. I growl, arching my hips into hers as the small pain mixes with pleasure, making my cock throb for her.
"Do not play with fire you do not understand, bittesmå ljós," I warn, gripping onto her hips.
"Didn't you know, Adaxiel?" She smiles at me, a womanly, triumphant smile full of raw, feminine energy. "I was born of the Light. I was made to burn."
I growl, leaning up to press my mouth to hers again. I slip my hands beneath her shirt, dragging it up her body. Her skin is soft and warm beneath my hands, like the smoothest silk. The rush of sensation spiraling through me is indescribable, like hurting through the skies, sheltered in the rays of the sun.
I break away from her lips to pull her shirt over her head. It falls beside the bed. When I try to kiss her again, she leans out of my reach. I watch through slit lids, annoyed that she doesn't obey when I want her lips on mine. Turned on that she doesn't give me what I want when I want it. She taunts and teases, forcing me to patience when I have none.
Her center grinds against me as she shifts around, her eyes wide and her lips swollen from my kisses. So radiantly beautiful.
She grows even more radiant when she reaches behind her, deftly unhooking her bra. It falls forward, held to her body by the thin straps across her pale shoulders. Those she slides slowly from her body, her eyes locked with mine as if daring me to stop her.
As if I can. As if I would.
Her bra falls between us, leaving her nude from the waist up.
"Sweet, merciful Light," I breathe, staring in a daze. I ache to touch her, to feel her alabaster skin beneath my palms and lips again. But I've never felt more unworthy. She is perfection, starlight and sunlight poured into mortal form. There's a reason she was born only now, so long after the Gods walked the earth.
Had they looked upon her, they would have trembled in rage at her beauty, so much more radiant than theirs. And at her power, so much purer than theirs. She was not made of Light, she is Light.
I swallow against the need burning through me, against the depths of my desire. Gods, I've never felt anything like it. But it isn't only mine I feel. Nei. It's hers, reflected back to me like thousands of stars scattered through the night sky.
This is what it is to love a Valkyrie.
This is what it is to be loved by a Valkyrie.
A low groan tumbles from my lips, gratitude and desire crashing together as she throws open the doors of her soul and allows me to step through again, opening herself to me in every way.
I tumble her over backward, falling upon her like a Fae possessed. She cries out, clutching me to her as I run my hands up and down her sides, latching onto one hardened peak.
"Dax!" She bows off the bed, my name echoing around us.
"Ja," I breathe against her skin. "Dax. Your mate. Keeper of your soul." I nip her skin again and then again, helpless to stop myself as she writhes in pleasurable torment every time my teeth touch her skin. I feel her pleasure as acutely as I do my own.
I prowl down her body, reveling in the way she responds to me. Marveling in the way she's right there, nestled inside my head as if she's always been there. As if that little corner was always reserved for her. Pleasure after pleasure whispers from it, flowing through me like ropes of gold.