Bound to the Bears (Born of Blood) Page 5

  As if the answer to all her searching lies anywhere else but in my arms.

  “I’m not sure,” she lies, and squirms away from my knowing smirk.

  I’ll let her get away with this for now.

  “I’m glad you came to me,” she says, watching my hands move over the tree, bewildered at the sight as the wood petrifies and crumbles away.

  “I never left,” I say.

  She glares, doubtful. “I couldn’t feel you,” she grumbles. “Or hear you. You didn’t visit me, ever, not…not even in my dreams.”

  “You’ve been busy.”

  Ursula peers down into the cradle from her arms in her hazy memory, Keyona’s round hands reaching for sister instead of mother. Only a babe, she’s far more in tune with her power, her intuition. She is the true heiress to the gifts.

  Keyona already knows Ursula is her safe place.

  Orsa recoils as if burned and blinks rapidly, trying to escape the thought. She focuses her eyes after a beat of focus, fighting off my intrusion, and growls.

  “How do you do that?” she hisses, clinging to her ill-placed frustration with me. It’s not my fault she has two beautiful daughters with the very antithesis of father figures on the brink of war at the head of her family.

  “Do what?”

  “Get in my head like that,” she says. “Is that some vampire mind control thing I’ve never heard of, or—or what? Did you poison me?”

  The air grows thick around us, ice crackling rapidly through the breeze like lightning. She gasps and jumps, bare feet slipping right out of her sandals now that they’ve been frozen to the ground.

  “I’m sure I told you what I am,” I snarl, voice deeper than ever before, anger pulsing off me in frigid waves. My wings shimmer into vision, spread wide in an effort to impress her, though all it does is soften her expression to one of adoration. “And it is most assuredly not one of those leeches.”

  How dare she liken me to one of those bastards?

  She pulls her robe tighter around her chest and straightens brazenly. “A faery,” she mumbles. “I didn’t forget.”

  “You’d have lost your tongue with any other faery, making ignorant comments like that.”

  Caliphe would strike her down even now, even millennia after the fact if she knew such a heinous thing even crossed my pet’s mind. Monsters, the lot of the vampire clans. Children eating, magic stealing, selfish pricks. Unworthy of the power they hold by a long shot and not an ounce of regret to be found within them.

  That brooding vampire trope is a falsehood. A bitter, twisted one at that.

  They don’t care. Their hearts rot out the moment the first blood touches their snake teeth.

  Perhaps I should take a page from my lovely sister and rip my pet’s tongue out of her head. Teach her a lesson.

  Orsa bows her head, and lowers to her knees, tucking her long legs underneath her. She holds her tongue, waiting. For something. Permission, or forgiveness, maybe?

  I come to her like a sap, crouching in front of her. I touch my lips to her cheek, captivated by her beauty, her pain, sucked in like a trap.

  Damn all.

  “Lucky for you,” I mutter, “I have other uses for it in mind.”

  She shivers appreciatively, leaning in close. “I thought the fae were extinct.”

  “You thought wrong,” I say. “I believe the proper term would be dormant. Extinct implies we’re dead, pretty one.”

  “Aren’t you?” she asks, the bite in her voice not quite reaching her eyes. “Soulless kidnappers, the lot of you. What about that is living?”

  I almost laugh. Surely she doesn’t think higher of bloodsuckers than the fae. What crap storybooks has she been reading?

  Right, the same ones those mosquitos publish. Almost forgot.

  “Just because our morals differ from yours does not mean there is an absence of them,” I explain, brushing my nose down her neck, to place a soft kiss on her collarbone. “In the long run, our values aren’t so different.”

  She drops her head back for me, closing her eyes, and I can’t help but laugh.

  “You’re talking a lot of trash to offer your neck to me like this.”

  “I’m tired.”

  My smile falters and I pull away, looking my pet over. There’s a heaviness to her that wasn’t there before, a defeated aura that stains like the blood of a lover.

  “I know.” I lean back in and settle my weight on her thigh, tilting my head curiously. “Why do you stay here?”

  “What choice do I have?” She sighs. “I have kids. Duties. You don’t just leave The Order.”

  “You’ve tried.”

  She purses her lips, confirming my presumptions, but doesn’t answer me outright.

  “The girls need me,” she says instead.

  “The girls fare better without you,” I state.

  She flinches like I struck her, unchecked vulnerability written all over her from head to toe. “That’s not—”

  “It’s not a slight,” I say, my lips curling into a malicious grin. She’s right where I want her. “D’Andres is restless. Surely you’ve seen it. He won’t wait in the wings much longer… and there is only one way for him to be of any importance to you and your… family.”

  “I didn’t come to you for a lecture.”

  I shake my head. “Nothing wrong with ignorance, Orsa, it’s quite a blissful experience.”

  She rolls her eyes at my choice of words and I giggle, lowering my mouth to her shoulder once more. She makes a move and walks her fingers up my side, wrapping around to my wings.

  I freeze, holding my breath, unsure how I feel about this. I press my nose under her ear as she traces the edge of one, goosebumps ripping over my skin.

  They’re tender, like glancing over a moth, yet frigid, strong, like slush built up on the road.

  “How does it feel?” she asks in my ear.

  “Dangerous,” I answer, too riled to even be ashamed of the way my voice shakes. I close my hand over her thigh like an anchor, trying in vain to ground myself to the very thing that’s lifting me off the ground. “It’s a vulnerable position I’ve put myself in, letting you even see them… you could hurt me like nothing else.”

  “Why let me see them?” she whispers.

  “I don’t know,” I mutter, raising my eyes to mine. “I trust you, for some stupid reason.”

  She smiles, far too proud of that fact. “Stupid?”

  I give her a smirk, but don’t answer. Instead I close my eyes and arch into her hands, offering myself to her in way of response.

  “I like when you relax,” Orsa says. Her mouth is hovering over mine, and I gasp at the sudden nearness, leaving myself parted, hoping she’ll take what she wants. Take me, however she wants. “When you open up like a book for me.”

  “Submission is the sweetest gift, isn’t it?” I struggle to sound dominant, trying to regain some control of this situation, although I want no part of it. Not right this moment, anyway.

  “Is that what this is?” she asks. “Can I have you? Show you what it’s like to be treated like a queen.”

  I bark out a laugh laced with more pain than I would like to admit, because it’s easier than bursting into tears. They’re springing to life behind my eyes in spite, and Orsa’s concern wraps around me tighter with each passing moment.

  She has no idea how much I would give to never be treated like a queen again.

  I cling to her almost desperately, and whisper one broken word, and see an understanding people dream about dance over her face. The way I say it clues her in, makes her believe I’m just as tortured and lonely as she has ever been.

  “Please.”

  Azlin

  Nothing could have even mentally, physically, or spiritually prepared me for Orsa Jelani.

  She claims my mouth slowly, inviting my tongue into a slow dance as she guides my body down flat on the ground. She tastes of sugar and sin, pain and passion, our breaths dropping in temperature with each frenzied
gasp that ghosts between us. I swallow it down, kissing her longer, depriving us both of oxygen until my head spins and every pant is a frozen cloud.

  Her hands roam my body, from tugging at my gauzy dress to cupping my face. I touch her back in turn, pulling at the tie of her robe, my magic pouring out of me and chilling her through to her bones, until she takes my wrists and pins them above my head under one of her hands.

  I yank them downward, squirming with force, but she’s too strong, too big for me to get out from underneath without playing dirty and snowing her.

  I whine and she pulls her mouth away, waiting for my eyes to center on her face. She smirks, high off the control I give her, watching me try and fight her off though we both know I don’t want it—and couldn’t get away if I did.

  She brings her hand to my chest, wrapping her fingers around the neckline of my dress, and shifts. Long claws extend from where her nails once were, coarse fur scratching my skin as a low growl rumbles in her chest.

  I stiffen, shrinking back best I can with nowhere to go, and her eyes flash at the timid movements. In one swift downward pull, she tears my dress to ribbons, and I squeak and flinch away even as my back arches towards her, chasing the warmth of her touch.

  Fuck, that shouldn’t be so hot. My legs clench together, hips rocking against myself as desire pools between them, and I moan out her name like a prayer.

  Her mouth closes over my soft breast, her teeth sharp like daggers and making me cry out. I spare no sound for the sake of pride, the fight dying out and turning to stillness, surrender. Each touch is threateningly sweet, promising pleasure like no other, or an agony only the most broken mind could conjure.

  This must be what fire feels like.

  She lets my wrists go to pry my legs apart at the knees, spurred faster by my startled gasp. She gives me a dark, warning look, and I understand I am not to move my hands. She trusts my passivity to continue, in return for her attention.

  I’ll take it.

  She lowers her mouth between my legs, her deft tongue starting at my core and working her way up, parting each fold of skin and lapping up my need. I whimper, muscles clenching, body bowing to her until her hands clasp around my hips and pin me down flat. She teases me for what feels like forever, her smile against my skin an aphrodisiac in itself, until my tremors are a tangible thing, uncontainable, uncontrollable. Until I’m sure one well-timed sigh and I’ll be done for.

  Then she increases her pace, and closes her mouth over my swollen clit, teeth pinching it in place as her rough tongue grates on me.

  I all but howl at the moon, closing my arms over my face and digging my nails in the dirt. My back arches clear off the ground, stars falling from the sky to dance in my eyes. I can’t move without tearing my flesh on her claws, completely powerless to stop the assault on my nerves.

  I’m entirely bound to her mercy, trapped on an edge she refuses to let me tumble over.

  “Fuck,” I sob, pulling at my own hair with both shaking hands, a wail escaping my throat when her fingers join in the party, plunging deep inside my throbbing core. “Orsa, please. I need you so much, please.”

  Her chuckle vibrates down to my curled toes, her torturous lapping not changing even a beat, swallowing me down without granting me the bliss of shattering to pieces.

  Then she stops.

  I choke on a plea, and she kisses my thigh, so sweetly my sexually frustrated tears drip down my cheeks. She comes over my body and takes grip of my jaw, crashing her mouth down on mine once more. I recoil for only a moment, tasting myself coating her tongue, but submit quickly, accepting my fate with nothing more than a shiver.

  I’ll take anything she gives me if she’ll just let me over that edge with her.

  She drops her robe down her shoulders and draws my numb legs over her hips. Leather straps pinch the underside of my ass and I whine, drawing my eyes downward. Strapped around her center is a thick, artificial length, disappearing between her legs and inside herself. The eggplant colored toy buzzes to life with a push of a button, the smooth end pulsing in a way that makes Orsa jerk forward and moan.

  She was very hopeful to see me, then. Or determined. Maybe a bit of both.

  “Orsa,” I say, my hesitation evident in my tone, but I bite my tongue when she shushes me.

  “I’ll be gentle,” she promises. “Trust me.”

  She opens her hand and laces one over both of mine, using the other to guide the member around my aching center. It feels good, I hate to admit, the thrumming sensation sending my eyes back into my head. My hips thrust into the touch of their own accord, my heartbeat throbbing through my skin even as my thighs clench around Orsa’s waist, instinctively trying to protect myself from the overwhelming fever.

  I choke out another plea as Orsa bites my neck, sure if she doesn’t give in soon, I’ll die right here. And maybe that’s a way to go—used to death by the one I love.

  I startle. No. No, it’s far too soon for that. Obsession, maybe. Fascination, most assuredly. But love? I’m incapable of such things.

  Right?

  She lines up with my entrance and pushes in, cutting my frenzied thoughts short. Her movements are slow, inch long thrusts until the toy is set fully inside me. I tighten automatically, bucking into the intrusion, making the toy twitch inside of me and rut against my most sensitive zones. Even as she holds her hips still, the toy moves for both of us, ruining us both from the inside out.

  I groan and grind against her, a yelp bubbling out of me when it pushes the toy deeper. She squeezes my hand comfortingly as I squirm underneath her, her other hand cupping my hip once more, holding me still and controlling the pace.

  Her slow, salacious pace that steals my breath and imprisons me somewhere between desire and desolation.

  “I can’t,” I beg, tears tracking over my temples and disappearing into my hair. “Please, I can’t take it.”

  Orsa shushes me again, but it’s softer this time, soothing instead of taunting. She kisses over my jaw to my mouth, biting my lower lip and pulling it back, temporarily drawing my attention to the sting on my face. She releases my hands, permission dancing with the mirth in her eyes, and I grip her shoulders, drawing her warm body flush against mine and hanging on for dear life.

  Her strong arm snakes around my waist, locking me in her embrace, quieting the screams in my mind with her protective grip. I drop my head back and pant through the ache, until her mouth chases mine down and dominates it once again.

  “Good girl,” she whispers, reminiscent to how I talked to her in her dreams. “That’s my baby.”

  “Please,” I whimper, worrying for just a moment she’ll take the opportunity to enact revenge for abandoning her in the high before. But she deepens the kiss before I can say more.

  She shifts her weight and throws one leg over mine, and the new angle unravels the last of my body’s resolve. I crack like a ship over an iceberg, overwhelming passion crashing through my body like glacial ocean waves, pulling me down and drowning me in her touch.

  She topples over right after me, her moan like a melody, wanton keens echoing back at us through the dry desert air. Her hips still move, milking my orgasm for all I’m worth and then some, still fucking me deep as she settles, looking down at me with a smile.

  “Karma’s a bitch,” she muses, kissing my cheek, lingering near my jaw and listening intently to my every exhalation. “Lucky for you, I’m not.”

  I laugh breathlessly, breaking into a whine on a harsh thrust. I push at her hips, my hands weak and slipping off her sweaty skin, which only propels her to move faster. “Orsa.”

  “Oh, Ivy,” she growls in my ear, making my heart twist. “I’m nowhere near done with you.”

  I shiver, swallowing around the lump in my throat. It’s a bad idea. I should kiss her, silence myself before I do something foolish. Before I jeopardize everything basking in the afterglow.

  “Hey,” she prompts, catching me out. Damn it. “What’s wrong?”

  �
��Nothing,” I say, sliding my hands around her waist. She doesn’t move, though, doesn’t carry on. Apparently, that wasn’t satisfactory.

  “Ivy.”

  Fuck.

  “Azlin.”

  “What?”

  “It’s Azlin,” I murmur. “My name is Azlin. I want you to call me Azlin.”

  Her eyes soften, and she holds my throat, bringing my eyes up to hers. In spite of all the fraudulent stories she’s heard of my kind, the look on her face tells she knows what I’ve done. She knows names are precious and wield more force than any one soul should bear access to. How I’ve exposed myself in a way that could lead to my downfall.

  What she doesn’t know is how I’ve handed her the keys to a kingdom. I’ve given her the power to topple an entire race of magical folk…

  “Azlin.” She tastes it as it glides off her tongue, my name like candy on her soft lips, an equal thrill racing through the both of us. “My beautiful Azlin.”

  …but she also doesn’t need to know that right now.

  “Yes. Yours,” I whisper with a careless smile. “All yours, Orsa Jelani.”

  Before I even saw her coming.

  Daylight is bleeding over the horizon by the time we have spent our energies to waste. I don’t know when I fell asleep, when Orsa made a makeshift bed for me out of the remains of our clothes and her body, but the last thing I want to do is untangle from it and let her go back to her miserable existence.

  Her dark skin glows gold in the dawn, glittering like precious metal, last night’s sweat still shimmering on her pretty face. Her chest rises and falls in deep, steady breaths, more calm than she’s ever been since I started watching her over a year ago.

  It would be so easy… I could sweep her away. Glamor this heinous world out of her memory, just long enough for the longing to subside. So it could never call her away from me.

  I’ve done it before.

  But that’s not how I want to win her forevers.