Silent Lucidity

by Tiffany Roberts

  “Abella?” His raspy voice was thick with passion and uncertainty; she knew then that his tension wasn’t solely the result of pleasure. He was nervous.

  She swiped her thumb over the tip of his cock, gathering the moisture there, and slid her fist down his length, relishing the feel of every knot and ridge along the way. She watched him closely; his gaze darted from her face to her hand and back again as a shudder wracked his body.

  “Yes, Tenthil?” She slowly moved her hand back up.

  His eyelids fluttered and his head tipped back; the only reply he offered was a low groan.

  A smile spread across her lips. She pumped her hand a few more times, unable to tear her eyes away from his face, enthralled by his responses to her touch. He was…beautiful. She knew it was strange to describe a man in that way, especially Tenthil, but in that moment—to her—he was. All the worry, pain, and coldness had vanished from his face, giving her a glimpse of the man behind those scars.

  A glimpse of a man whose choices had been stolen from him.

  Abella looked down to see his cock seeping from the tip. Without a second thought, she lowered her head and took him into her mouth. His flavor—similar to the taste of his kiss, but richer—burst upon her tongue. She moaned, swallowing more of him.

  Tenthil’s legs stiffened, and the bed dipped as he sat up suddenly. There were brief ripping sounds to either side of Abella, as though cloth were being torn, but she paid no attention.

  He whispered her name; it was a question, a caress, a prayer.

  She’d never believed herself to be very good at giving blow jobs, but with Tenthil, she felt empowered—he reacted to her every movement, no matter how miniscule, as though she’d pushed him beyond the pinnacle of ecstasy.

  Abella closed her eyes. He was large, but not so large she couldn’t take him deep. She used her fist on the bottom half of his shaft, pumping in time with the motion of her mouth. Her tongue and lips glided over his ridges and knots, and her sex clenched as she imagined what they would feel like against her sensitive inner walls.

  His fingers brushed hesitantly over her hair, his claws combing through the strands, before he settled his palm atop her head. The delicacy of his touch belied the tension in his body; he was being careful, holding himself back.

  But she didn’t want him to hold himself back.

  She slid her lips off his cock and looked up into his half-lidded eyes before lowering her head again to slowly run her tongue along the underside of his shaft. His eyelids dipped farther, and he shuddered. Without hesitation, she took him into her mouth again, holding his gaze as she sucked and licked, moving her head up and down, over and over. She squeezed her thighs together against the ache of her own desire.

  Tenthil’s breathing grew harsher. The muscles of his jaw bulged as he threw his head back, and a strained growl rose from his throat. His hips bucked, and Abella felt his struggle to contain himself through the increased strain of his muscles. His fight did not last long; Tenthil’s growl gave way to a brief, deep, bestial roar as his cock swelled in her hand.

  His heat poured into her mouth, and Abella closed her eyes, swallowing as much of him as she could. His hand tightened in her hair, and his claws grazed her scalp, but she didn’t care. She moaned as she licked his length, prolonging his pleasure, unwilling to let any of his seed go to waste.

  When at last his tremors subsided, Abella released him and raised her head, smiling.

  Chest heaving, Tenthil lifted his head to meet her gaze. His black eyes gleamed with tiny reflections of the dim corner lights; to Abella’s surprise, the hunger in his gaze was undiminished. His lips parted, and his tongue slipped out, running over the tips of his right upper fangs to collect the drops of liquid that had gathered upon them. He stared at her for several seconds. Anticipation sped her heart.

  Before she could react, he pounced.

  Tenthil caught Abella’s shoulders in his hands as he sprung forward, pushing her aside and onto her back before coming down atop her. He pinned her in place with his body and dropped his mouth over hers, taking freely of her taste, of her breath. Her flavor was tinged with hints of his own. A shudder coursed up his spine as he recalled the heat of her mouth around his shaft.

  He wanted more of her heat. Needed a different heat.

  Heart thundering, he moved his hands to her wrists and forced her arms over her head. He tore his mouth from hers to sample her skin with his lips and tongue. She tilted her head back with a soft moan as his lips trailed down her throat, and she spread her legs wide, allowing him to settle between them.

  The barrier between her body and his—her clothing—created sweet friction, but he needed to feel her, only her, with nothing separating them. Crossing her arms at the wrists and holding them in place with one hand, he dropped his other hand lower, brushing his palm down her forearm, over her elbow, and past her bicep and shoulder to the collar of her shirt. He slipped his fingers beneath the garment and curled them, extending his claws. The fabric shredded. Taking a handful, he tore it apart, rending the shirt in half down the front and exposing her small, firm breasts and hard, pink nipples.

  “Tenthil,” she breathed.

  Raising his head, Tenthil looked down at Abella. Her dark hair was spread around her head like a dual-colored halo, her green eyes were gleaming and half-lidded, and rapid breaths flowed between her delicate, parted lips.

  Mine.

  He gave the thought no voice—he was beyond that, now. There was only one way to ensure she knew, to make her understand once and for all that she was his.

  Shifting back slightly on his knees, he lowered his mouth over her breast and sucked her nipple between his lips. She released a ragged sigh and arched her back. He sucked harder, eliciting a cry from Abella, and lightly grazed his fangs over the tender flesh of her breasts. Her hips jerked; Tenthil growled as her pelvis stroked the underside of his cock.

  The heady aroma of her arousal flowed into his flaring nostrils, and his shaft, impossibly, hardened further. It was her scent, but it was more; it was the answer to his desire, the answer to his need. It was the most primal signal of her need. The deepest, most instinctual part of him could not allow her needs to go unmet—and it would not allow him to go another moment without claiming his mate.

  Tenthil released his hold on Abella’s wrists and dropped his hands to her hips. Gripping the waistband of her pants, he yanked them down her legs as he crawled backward. Abella was dragged toward him with the force he’d used before she laughed and raised her backside to assist him.

  She propped herself up on her elbows, grinning at him as he worked her pants over her ankles and off her feet. “In a rush?”

  Growling, he threw the pants against the wall, dropped onto hands and knees, and prowled toward her.

  Abella held out a hand, flattening her palm on his shoulder and locking her elbow. Tenthil halted, curling his claws into the blanket, and met her gaze. The haze of his lust left him unable to guess why she’d stopped him; he wasn’t even sure why he’d obeyed, when the throbbing in his cock was so strong it pained him.

  “Is this your first time, Tenthil?” she asked softly.

  He drew in a fresh breath; the air was laden with the scent of her arousal. His eyelids drooped, and he nodded.

  Smiling, she lowered her hand and spread her knees, opening herself to him. His eyes cut right to her sex, where her folds opened like the petals of a flower, pink and glistening with her need.

  “Then do as you like with me,” she said.

  Without wasting a single moment in thought, Tenthil dropped his head between her thighs, his pulsing shaft—now pinned between his pelvis and the bed—temporarily ignored. He flicked his tongue against her folds and lapped up her essence. Abella gasped, and her fingers delved into his hair.

  Tenthil pulled back, pausing only long enough to savor the taste on his tongue, to relish her sweetness, to lick her moisture from his lips, before he returned his mouth to her sex. He drank from her
ravenously, learning every bit of her by feel, gauging her every reaction by the sounds she made and the way her body moved.

  She fell back against the bedding, panting, until the tip of his tongue flicked toward the top of her sex and slid over a small, hardened nub. Her hips jerked upward, and she released a soft moan.

  Tenthil glanced up over her body, between her pert breasts, to see her head tilted back, allowing him only a glimpse of her face—eyes closed, cheeks flushed, and lips parted. Her chest heaved with her rapid breaths. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and held them open as he licked the spot again.

  She dug her nails into his scalp. “Yes! Right there, Tenthil.”

  Abella’s pleasure sparked a new, prideful fire in his chest, making his desire burn hotter. He quickened his tongue, flicking it ruthlessly over and over against the nub that brought her so much delight. She writhed beneath him, grinding her sex against his mouth, her sweet cries permeating the room. He would never be able to bear silence again after hearing such a sound.

  She released his hair, and her hand fell to grasp the covers.

  He tightened his hold on her, unwilling to let her escape. He latched his lips onto that nub and sucked. Abella gasped, squeezing her eyes shut as her body tensed and her back arched off the bed. Her scent strengthened, and a rush of heat flowed from her. He relinquished his hold on that sensitive little bud to lap at her sex, drinking every drop of delicious nectar her body offered, and slipped his tongue inside her to take straight from the source. Her inners walls clenched and quivered.

  Licking his lips, Tenthil pushed himself up on his arms and growled at the ache in his cock. He took hold of her hips and pulled her limp body toward him, guiding her legs around his waist. Her eyes, dark and hooded with desire, met his. Without a word, he moved over her, pressed his cock to her entrance, and plunged into her depths.

  Abella gasped, digging her heels into his lower back as she tilted her head back.

  For a moment, Tenthil held himself still. Blissful heat embraced his cock, her flesh smooth and soft but tight, so tight. The feel of her mouth and hand on his shaft had been sublime, but this was on an entirely new level; it was otherworldly, divine.

  It was beyond his capability to put into adequate words.

  Tenthil lowered his head and pressed his face against her neck. Flexing his hips, he pushed himself into her until he was fully sheathed by her sex. A low groan escaped him.

  Abella’s arms slid around his sides to embrace him. Turning her head, she rubbed her cheek against his hair.

  A fresh torrent venom dripped from his fangs, its sweetness miniscule compared to hers. Muscles tense, he bunched wads of the blanket in his fists and pushed himself up, easing his hips back. The slide of her inner walls around his shaft made him shudder in ecstasy; he’d never felt anything so good. As the rim of his cock’s head neared her entrance, he pushed forward again.

  The change in direction altered the glide of flesh against flesh, creating powerful new sensations. He swallowed a mouthful of venom and stared down into her eyes as he continued moving at a slow, steady pace. The pressure building inside him made his muscles tremble.

  She panted beneath him, lifting her hips to meet his every thrust. Each time their pelvises came together, their force increased infinitesimally, heightening the already overwhelming pleasure by an equal degree. Her eyelids drooped, but she held his gaze. She slid her hands up, over his arms and shoulders, to slip her hands into his hair again.

  “Tenthil,” she whispered, her hold on him tightening as she moaned.

  His senses overloaded in that moment—the feel of their coupling, the scent of her arousal, the taste lingering on his tongue, and the sight of her blissful expression combined with the sound of his name on her lips to become something new, something mind-shattering in its potency.

  This is mine. She is mine.

  Mine.

  For an instant, his chest swelled, and all his muscles bulged simultaneously with a burst of untold strength. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hear his heart beating. Then his head dropped, and his fangs, as though guided by an outside force, sank into the same place they had before—the intersection of her shoulder and neck. That sweet venom pumped into her as his hips bucked wildly, introducing a new, frantic pace to their joining. Her body welcomed him, her inner walls clamping around his shaft and pulling it ever deeper.

  Ragged, bestial breaths tore from his burning lungs, each closer to a guttural grunt than the last. The metallic tang of her blood crossed his tongue; it urged him on harder, faster.

  She was his, and she would know it. The whole city would know it.

  Abella tensed around him. She dropped her hands and buried her nails in his shoulders, releasing a choked cry as her sex tightened, its inner muscles fluttering maddeningly around his cock. Hot nectar poured from her, bolstering the scent in the air, amplifying his ever-growing need. Her cries escalated in pitch and volume with each of his thrusts.

  He pushed harder and faster still; he needed to leave his mark on her, inside and out, needed to brand her as his and his alone. He needed to show her this was what she wanted—what she needed—as well.

  His sack tightened, and something in the pit of his stomach lurched. For an instant, his limbs threatened to give out, and a sound rose from his chest to catch in his throat. The immense pressure within him threatened to tear him to pieces, would leave nothing of him when it was done. During that moment—an eternity in his mind—he teetered on the edge of a precipice both familiar and unknown, a point from which there was no return. A point from which he never wanted to return.

  Tenthil lifted his mouth from her neck and exploded with a roar that sounded from the deepest part of his soul. His mind fragmented, and its pieces careened across the universe, finding Abella everywhere—all her, only her. His seed filled her, and her body demanded more, more, more, milking him dry. He complied, bucking his hips despite all his muscles locking at once.

  He growled what must’ve been her name—it was the only word he knew, the only word that mattered.

  He wasn’t sure how much time passed as his racing heart calmed and his breathing eased. Abella’s breath, sweet and warm, fanned over his sweat-dampened chest. He turned his face into her hair and inhaled. Their mingling scents forced a swift wave of possessiveness through him.

  Abella gently stroked his shoulders and back with her hands, her touch as soothing as it was arousing. He flexed his hips, burying himself deeper inside her, and she moaned, squeezing her thighs around his hips. He didn’t want to leave this spot. For this little while, they could be as one. It was a feeling he’d never experienced, had never imagined possible, and a small part of him feared he would never have it again once this ended.

  He lifted his head and slid his fingers into her hair, tilting her face toward his to meet her tired but sated gaze. “You are mine, Abella,” he rasped. “Forever.”

  Before she could reply, he pressed his lips over hers, pouring all the fire raging within him into the kiss.

  Eleven

  Tenthil stared up at the ceiling as he trailed the tips of his claws up and down Abella’s back, following the graceful line of her spine. She lay atop him, resting her cheek on his chest, and her warmth flowed into him freely. Like so many of his experiences with her, this was new. He’d never been held with affection, had never been comfortable enough with anyone—much less felt the urge—to lay with them, defenses lowered. Silence had stretched between them, but he found this silence comforting. It was companionable, natural, a suitable response to what they’d shared; though many words could be said about it, none were necessary.

  Abella stirred, sliding her hand along his shoulder. “Abella isn’t my full name.”

  He tilted his head slightly to glance down at the top of her hair. Her confession intrigued him not because it was another secret to hoard, but because she was choosing to share with him. This was a secret given, not a secret taken.

  “What is y
our full name?”

  “Isabella. Well, technically Isabella Diane Mitchell.” She curled her fingers around his shoulder and brushed her thumb back and forth across his skin. “When I was born, my parents said one of my older brothers had trouble saying my name. Abella was the best he could manage. It just kind of stuck, and that’s what everyone’s called me since then. Well, unless I did something bad, then my mom would use my full name so I knew I was in trouble.”

  Her wistful tone made it clear that she missed her family. Tenthil’s mind flashed back briefly to his own childhood, so far away and clouded by time. He couldn’t remember if he’d missed his family; he’d been taken too long ago. “Which do you prefer?”

  “I’m fine with Abella. It’s who I’ve always been.”

  He nodded and shifted his gaze back to the ceiling. Though he’d never been to this safehouse before coming with Abella, it was already more a home to him than the temple had ever been. “The Master gave me my name.”

  Abella raised her head and looked at him. Her hair fell around her head in disarray, its soft, dangling strands tickling his chest.

  Tenthil swallowed, throat suddenly tight. He’d never considered his thoughts concerning his past either at great length or with great depth; the initial flare of anger he usually felt when his mind turned to what had been taken from him, about the life he’d lost by no fault of his own, had been enough.

  But thanks to Abella, he now understood that anger was not his only emotional response to what had been stolen from him.

  “I remember little of my people,” he said, the lump in his throat thickening, “but I know males were not granted names until they proved themselves capable hunters. I was too young to have done so when I was taken.”