Strength (Curse of the Gods #4)

Turning back to him, the raw emotion on his face had my heart thudding hard and fast. “Where did they go?” I whispered, already pushing closer to him, moving up onto my toes and trying to fit myself snugly against his body.

One of his arms wrapped around my back and his movements were rougher as he swept me in. “They’re giving us some privacy. If that’s what you want?”

Holy shit. I’d never thought they would share so well, but if ‘keeping it even’ meant that I got Siret all to myself in this moment, I was all for it.

To answer his previous question, I pressed my lips against his, grateful that he was holding me high enough that I could reach them with ease. This time there was nothing sweet about the kiss—it was hot, hard, and delicious. My body was already aching to be touched. I needed more than what we had right now. I needed everything.

Pulling my mouth from his, I inhaled deeply and wiggled back so that I could try to pull his shirt up. I’d dreamed about touching Siret’s chest like this and I couldn’t wait another moment. Siret moved to set me down, but I didn’t let go of him, keeping my legs locked around his waist. “You’re not going anywhere,” I muttered.

His only response was a rumble of his chest and then his lips were on my neck, trailing down my throat. My body tensed and relaxed in the same instance, my legs sliding down to the floor. Siret straightened then, towering above me as both of his hands went out to brace against the stone wall behind me, framing my face. His right hand slid across my dress and I felt his Trickery energy follow that path. When I looked down, my blue dress was melting away. It was hard to see in the dim light, but the colour also seemed to be shifting, growing a deeper, darker shade of … purple. The material shrunk away until it was a set of underwear: a silky purple bra and panties.

“Your turn now,” I said breathlessly, my hands already scrambling to get his shirt off. Siret moved back just enough so that he could reach over his shoulder and grab the back of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Every single cell in my body was happy that he did the undressing the dweller way. His power, while convenient, took some of the fun out of it. I was pretty much panting by the time he was done. Siret’s body was a work of art. Golden, cut muscles—long lines for my eyes to trace over and over.

“Pants now, too,” I ordered, leaning back against the stone like I was the powerful god and he was only there to serve me.

Green eyes twinkled at me, a smirk in place, and he reached for the button on his pants. “Are you sure about this, Soldier? There’s no other layer to take off once these go.”

Holy gods yes. I nodded, smiling. “Pretty sure.”

He kicked his boots off, one at a time, drawing out my pleasure—and torture—as he slid his black combat pants down his body. I didn’t know where to look, mostly because I wanted to look everywhere. And touch everywhere. I moved forward until there was only a fraction of a breath separating us. He raised a hand to cup the side of my face and I let out a shuddering groan.

His head ducked down, his lips inches from mine again, but just before I was lost in another heated, dizzying kiss, a flash of silver caught my eye from over the top of his right shoulder. I pulled back an inch, my gaze flicking to the side. It was entirely dark, except for the sprinkling of silver dots scattered about a single wall.

No … not dots.

Stars.

I was looking at the night sky. But how?

Siret began to pull away, but my hands found their way to his shoulders, hanging onto him, keeping him close. I needed the warmth of his body. I was confused at the vision of the sky, and there was a coolness to the air that also battered at my mind. Something wasn’t right and it was begging for my attention, but Siret was right there, and he was hot enough to banish the cold. He was perfect enough to pull my attention away from the stars.

“There’s something wrong with this room,” he muttered distractedly, his lips brushing over mine. He’d noticed as well, but just like me, it wasn’t quite enough to pull our attention from each other.

I went up on my toes, allowing my hands to travel into his thick, slightly wavy hair, threading my fingers through the strands, before grabbing two handfuls to force his mouth harder against mine. He laughed, but the sound ended on a groan as I opened my mouth to him, his leg pushing between my thighs, his hand at the small of my back, arching me into him.

“I need you,” I gasped, releasing his hair so that my hand could slip between us. I didn’t have a whole lot of sexual experience, but I was more than willing to bow down to my instinct. I wanted to touch him, I needed to experience his reaction to me.

His breath grew heavy as my fingers gripped his hard length, his palms once again pressed to the stone wall behind me, on either side of my body. When he seemed close to reaching his limit, he encircled my wrists, pulling them away and moving them behind my back, trapping them there and pressing me flush against him. His other hand brushed slowly down my front, a glittery intention in his eyes, visible in the dim light. I should have paused to figure out where exactly the light was coming from, since it had a flickering quality to it, indicating a bare flame nearby. I should have been asking many questions, but I was done with thinking.

It was time to forget about everything else. The urge to gather my Abcurses around me and forge us into a tighter, closer link was almost overwhelming. I had no idea why it was happening, but I was past the point of questioning it.

The further down Siret’s hand travelled, the more I could sense his magic slowly rolling over me—not that I needed to actually feel his magic to know that I was now naked, because his fingers didn’t pause in their downward motion, travelling over my belly, my hip, before pushing between my legs. I lifted up onto my toes, my arms stretched behind me, held at the base of my spine. I dropped my face against his chest, my sounds of pleasure caught against his bare skin as my legs went immediately weak. He was taking away my ability to stand while keeping me upright with his grip on my wrists. It was bordering on painful, but I didn’t want to break free or stop him, because his fingers were driving me insane, sending liquid heat through my body.

There was nothing that I could do to take control of the situation, to drive our encounter in the direction I wanted it to go. If it hadn’t felt so amazing, I would have fought him; I would have tried to gain the upper hand somehow, but I had no strength to fight. I gave in, letting him drive me closer and closer to the edge, before he pushed me mercilessly over.

I slumped against him as I cried out, emotion welling up inside me, and he immediately released my wrists, cradling me gently in his arms. I didn’t know why, but tears were gathering at the corners of my eyes, a strange elation filling my chest. Undead sex was different to … swimming.

“Don’t say undead sex,” Siret muttered, laughter in his voice, though it had a roughness to it that only served to remind me that we hadn’t actually had sex, yet. I let my body ride the heavy wave of emotion as I pushed into him. I could feel every inch of his skin beneath me as we sank down to the cold stone floor. I wanted to wonder why the room wasn’t furnished, as the rooms had been at Blesswood—why there weren’t rugs and blankets, couches and beds—but as soon as the questions jumped into my mind, they were pushed out again at the feel of Siret’s smooth skin beneath my fingertips. I straddled him, my knees settling on either side of his.

“Put it in,” I demanded, still struggling a little to breathe.

“That’s … really not how this goes,” he replied, and I could hear the laughing grimace in his words.

“You don’t put it in?”

“No, you do put it in … I meant that you don’t say things like ‘put it in’.”

“Well I do, because I just did.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

I reached down, my hand wrapping around his hardness again. He groaned heavily.

“Put it in,” I repeated.