Knifing upwards, he fisted her hair and pulled her down towards him.
Their connection burned.
Desperate to feel her naked flesh, he unleashed a surge of venna. The faine cried out as his otherworldly power ripped the robe from her shoulders and tossed it to the floor. Now bare to him, the rose-tipped buds of her breasts heaved tantalizingly close to his mouth.
Unable to resist, he licked a puckered tip before greedily taking the whole of it, and more, into the heat of his mouth, laving and sucking wetly, the bead a delicious morsel hard against his tongue. Her arms wrapped around his head, holding on tight as she writhed against his mouth, her breathless little moans filling his head, spurring him on.
Toran pulled back, eager to witness her need. Naked and beautifully aroused, her breast wet from his mouth, the faine’s eyes blazed with desire.
Mine.
Hand tight at her neck, Toran twisted her down and pinned her body to the bed. Nudging her knees open, he rolled into her welcoming heat, his cock poised and ready in the cradle of her thighs, the tip perfectly cupped in the dip of her core.
With a single thrust, Toran could be inside her. His body shook under the weight of the temptation, his venna growing restless and eager to take its share.
Though every instinct within him screamed take her, the tiniest prick of conscience flickered in his brain, a whisper of warning that what he was about to do was wrong.
Gods help him, Toran feared it wasn’t nearly loud enough to stop him from taking what was his to take.
*****
Since the last strains of venna had bled from her body nearly six hundred years ago, Liv had yearned for a connection with this daemon, the dream in her heart so intense, it had almost been enough to drown out the sadness of being lost in a world without touch.
Now, body alive with his venna, his shaft hard and insistent against the pulsing ache at her core, Liv knew her dreams were just that… the silly imaginings of a girl who was clueless about what it meant to feel.
Nothing had prepared her for the cacophony of sensations that crashed against her soul. She strained into the heaviness of hard muscle and bone, the heat between their bodies growing slicker and hotter with his sweat. Her skin prickled under the ticklish rasp of his whiskers as Toran licked and nipped her sensitive neck. She called out his name as calloused hands cupped and squeezed her breasts, his rough touch made gentle with the tender swipe of thumb against achy nipple.
At each new assault on her senses, the need she had for him intensified. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she pressed her pelvis hard against his length.
Wherever their bodies touched, the insistent vibration of venna buzzed, its electrifying caress like a thousand fiery tongues flicking against her skin.
Straining to take his mouth in a pleading kiss, Liv was beyond begging him to take her.
Yet, instead of heeding her call, Toran turned away from her seeking lips. Levering up on straightened arms, he shifted abruptly onto his knees. She cried out at the loss of his touch, digging her fingernails into the skin of his shoulders, desperate to keep their connection.
Grimacing as if in pain, he shrugged off her hold. His tension––and guilty hesitation––were palpable.
At his slight, Liv blinked in embarrassed confusion before scrambling to try to escape from where he held her caged within his limbs.
“No,” he commanded, his voice a raspy growl. Collapsing down, Toran wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a stubbled cheek to her chest, pinning her beneath him.
“Just give me a minute.” His breath was uneven, his venna hot against her breast. “Okay?”
She gave a hesitant nod.
They lay together in awkward silence, him on his haunches, his face buried in her bosom… her, uneasy.
Long minutes later, he lifted up, his breath still unsteady, his beautiful body taut with tension. Quivering with need, Liv watched as Toran tentatively shifted to press once again against her heat.
His eyes slid shut.
With a low and needy moan, she arched her back to intensify their connection, reveling in the feel of the heaviness that probed gently at her opening. She clutched his shoulders.
“Oh gods,” Liv whispered as she pressed up hard and wanting against him. “Please, Tor. Please.”
She felt the moment his control slipped. At her whimpered plea, his venna crashed bright in the night. Liv’s world was spun topsy-turvy as Toran flipped her to her stomach and pulled her roughly to her knees.
With a shout that ringed of defeat, he plunged into her wetness.
*****
At his merciless thrust, Liv cried out in what sounded like pain. Toran’s conscience reared up in answer only to be drowned out by the pounding heartbeat between his ears.
Ah, gods, her heat.
Adrift in a sea of lust, Toran was helpless to stop himself.
Desperate for more, he leaned back on his knees, seeking leverage, never ceasing his driving rhythm. Snaking an arm around her hips, he pulled her body harder against the heat of his friction.
His body thrummed with the need to come, his venna rumbling in eager warning.
Unbidden, his cousin’s words echoed in his mind.
Plant a babe in her.
Gods, yes.
He quickened his pace.
Eyes screwed tight in helpless concentration, Toran drove harder, deeper. The faine pressed back against him, wanting him, her soft mewling cries spurring him on.
Ah, gods, I’m about to come.
In the span of that heartbeat, he rammed to a stop.
Seized by a thundering panic, Toran forced his heavy eyelids open to peer down his heaving torso to where his body joined with hers. As if lost in a dream, he took in the slimness of her waist, her body so small nestled into the heft of his own, the whiteness of her bottom pressed tight against the darkness of his groin.
Though a jolt of pure ecstasy tore through him as his faine shifted her pelvis against him, a nightmare subverted all thoughts of pleasure.
What the fuck am I doing?
With a shout, Toran pulled out into the cold. He staggered backwards, nearly falling to the floor.
Spinning away, he fell forward against the wall, arms extended, palms wide apart, his cock jutting proudly from his groin, unsubdued and eager for more.
His venna seethed in the air.
Toran could not risk looking at Liv, soft and warm in his bed. The commingled scent of their sex, heavy in the room, wreaked havoc with his senses, his very reasoning.
He stood that way for an agonized minute, unable to face her, yet despairing of the loss of connection.
“Go back to your bed, faine,” he finally said to the wall in front of him.
Not waiting for an answer, Toran forced himself away. He slipped inside the bathroom and closed the door, desperately needing some distance, some time to conquer the aggression, the terror… the pain… that threatened to overwhelm him.
The bright light of the bathroom offered no comfort.
Instead, it revealed his latest shame.
His cock, still glistening with the juices of their joining, was stained with virgin blood.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Motionless on her elbows and knees, Liv was just as Toran had left her when he pulled out and away.
She panted in frozen confusion, her head spinning from the roller coaster of sensation she’d just experienced. In the span of mere minutes, she had felt the exquisite friction of his cock against her cleft morph into pain at his forceful invasion. A pinched sting of discomfort had quickly faded into pleasure as he thrust inside her, his venna healing any hurt in an instant.
Now, she was just stunned.
Blowing out a breath, she sat back on her haunches. Strength such that Liv had never known surged through her veins.
Toran's essence, so real, so demanding, so capable of eliciting such raw emotion, now opened her mind to a whole new sensation.
Liv was pi
ssed.
Furious, she leapt from the bed and swiped her robe off the floor. Threading her arms through the sleeves, she marched towards the bathroom.
“Open this door.” Liv rattled the knob before raising a fist and banging it against the wood.
There was no answer.
Coward.
Summoning strength from only the gods knew where, Liv tensed her body and, for the first time in her life, propelled herself on her own through the Mythos.
She found him on the other side of the door.
“What the fuck?” At her unexpected entrance, Toran ripped a towel off the rack and wrapped it around his waist. “Leave me be, faine.”
How dare he.
“No!” Liv jabbed a finger into his still-heaving chest. “You do not get to do this!” She jabbed at him again. “You do not get to do this to me. Not again…”
He wrapped a meaty fist around her fingers and squeezed. Despite the aggressiveness of his action, she sensed he was trying his best not to hurt her.
“Do not provoke me.” His voice was quiet and calm, but his eyes raged an electric blue. He leaned into her hand, his fingers intertwined with hers, and pressed it against his chest.
She could feel the electric heat of his venna hissing from within and around his skin.
Against all reason, she longed to take it, to comfort him.
“Let go of me,” she whispered instead. Though determined to not back down, she found herself blinking back helpless tears.
She tried to hang onto her anger, but as she stared into his stoic face, she felt it fade away into… numbness.
All through their night together, Toran had been such a mix of emotions. Desire. Hesitation. Guilt. Fear? So many feelings all jumbled together.
Now, he just seemed lost.
In her current state, though, she was helpless to help him.
“What do you want from me?” she asked in a whisper.
She watched him blink. Then swallow. Then nothing.
He still doesn’t know.
Pulling her hand from his, she backed away.
She was surprised when he spoke. His voice was so soft Liv had to step forward to hear him.
“What almost happened in there.” His eyes went glassy. “I did not want it to happen… not with you.”
As soon as his whispered words crossed his lips, the small room was engulfed by the intensity of his emotions. His feelings were so oppressive, so negative, Liv staggered backwards until her back hit the door.
“I can feel your anger… your hatred.” She closed her eyes to the agony. It was no use holding back her tears.
“Oh my gods. You do hate me.” As that wretched realization dawned, she sucked in a sob. “You hate me so much you can’t…” She averted her eyes to the still evident erection beneath the towel wrapped around his waist. “So much so, you won’t let yourself…”
“Listen to me…” Toran took a step towards her.
“Don’t come near me.” She threw out a hand.
From inside the bedroom came the sound of a ringing phone.
He made no move to go answer it.
Heaving out a breath, Liv could feel the venna he had gifted her begin to fade. With it, centuries of longing were washed away. Somehow, she steadied her voice to say, “I am so done with this. I am so done with you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Done?
“What the hell are you talking about?” His anger and despair quickly fading away to a gut-gripping panic, Toran shifted forward, his palm swept out in question. “What the fuck does that mean, you’re done?”
“It means I’m done playing this game with you.” She waved a hand between them. “This, this, whatever it is between us. It means I don’t want to live here with you anymore.” Straightening her shoulders, she lifted her chin and declared, “I’m moving out.”
“Excuse me?” Through his dumbfounded confusion, Toran heard his phone chirp with an incoming text. He ignored it. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’ll stay here in Venn Dom,” she explained, “but I’m going to find a place of my own.”
“What?” Blood roared in his ears.
“There’s a vacant cottage on the grounds of the children’s home. I’ve been making arrangements to live there.”
He knew the cottage well. But Liv did not belong there. She belonged here. At home.
With him.
“You’re not moving out.”
She gazed up at him, her ocean eyes as calm as a summer morning. Her voice was soft when she answered him. “Yes, Toran, I am.”
He blinked at her, trying to understand her game.
“Has Anara put you up to this?”
“Anara? No, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then your witch friend has…”
“You know, Toran,” she said, “I do have a mind of my own. I can think for myself.”
“Well, then you need to get it through your thick skull that you’re not leaving. You’re not going anywhere.” He stabbed a finger in her direction. “That’s just not going to happen.”
“Toran.” She stamped her foot. “Can you seriously stand there and tell me you want me here?” she cried. “After what just happened in your bed?”
I want you here.
Somehow, he managed to swallow back those words.
“You know I can’t stay here any longer,” she said. “This isn’t working. This has never worked. Neither of us is happy.”
“Happiness has nothing to do with it. Godsdammit!” He tried to shout down the insistent ringing of his phone. When it subsided at last, he took a deep breath and tried to calm his voice. “Look, I just need…”
“I know what you need,” Liv interrupted coolly. “When you need my ‘services,’ just let me know. We will do it at the clinic, nice and clean.”
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” Toran raised a palm to stop her. She wasn’t making any sense. He lowered his voice. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about keeping my word. But, this time, we’re going to do it on my terms,” she stated. “I’ve spoken with Anara…”
“You’ve what?” He took an aggressive step forward.
She shoved him away. “It’s no secret why I’m here, Toran,” she cried. “I’m a faine after all. I have asked her, as a doctor and my friend, to supervise our feedings. This way, I can still feed to get what I want… and you can have whatever you need from me.”
“Are you fucking crazy?” A blue haze clouded his vision.
Supervised? Was she actually suggesting they do what they did… in front of others? To have a witness to the fire that burned between them?
She was insane.
He screwed his eyes shut, trying to squeeze out the venna. When he opened them, Liv was standing in the now open doorway.
“Why are you being so stubborn?” he accused.
Gods, has she always been this stubborn?
“You need me…”
“No, Toran,” she said. “I really don’t. Not like you think I do.”
At that frank admission, his mind reeled. Throat thick, he felt as if he’d choke on the simplest of words. Before he could push past the awful truth of her statement, she turned and left without saying another word.
His venna simmering in anxious confusion, Toran could feel Liv move through his bedroom and across the hall. Minutes later, he felt her walk out of her room and down the stairs through the great room below. He glanced at the clock.
It was five-forty-one in the morning.
His phone began to ring again.
Slowly, Toran turned to face the mirror, the harsh lights of the bathroom illuminating his misery. He stared at his reflection, hating the blue fury that raged in his eyes.
Liv was right. Earlier, she had felt his hatred.
But that hatred had been directed solely at himself.
Unable to bear the evidence of the poison coursing through his veins, Toran smashed his fist into
the mirror. Not satisfied with the pain, he punched it again and again with both fists until he pulverized the glass back to sand.
Adrift in his misery, blood dripping from freshly inflicted wounds, Toran tried to regain some sense of composure, some sense of sanity.
How the hell can I make this right, his crazed mind screamed, when I’ve been damned to live a life without her?
His phone rang again.
Heaving out a shout of frustration, Toran stalked through his bedroom to the night stand, his hands and wrists dripping blood. He grabbed the phone and swiped a thumb across the face and whipped it to his ear.
“WHAT?”
As he listened, Toran cast a gaze in the direction his faine had gone. Then, something said on the other end of the line caught his attention.
“I’ll be right there.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
“What the fuck happened to you?” Merus exclaimed as Toran pulsed inside the tent that was set up just inside Baltia’s outer border.
“It’s nothing.” Toran waved a hastily bandaged hand, hoping Merus would, for once in his life, mind his own damned business.
“It doesn’t look like nothing.”
No such luck.
“What the hell did you do?”
Toran didn’t dare glance his cousin’s way. Even now, his face burned under the daemon’s scrutiny. Though he threw up a shield as usual to block his emotions from his part-faine cousin, he feared there was no hiding Liv’s scent that still clung to his body. Too alarmed by Merus’s urgent calls for help, he hadn’t taken the time to shower.
“Drop it, Merus,” he said gruffly as he rubbed his aching chest.
Gods, the way I treated her.
Closing his eyes, Toran again reached for their connection. He could feel her… there… safe at the children’s home. Comforted by her presence––even from afar––he turned towards his cousin to focus on the problem at hand.
“How bad is the breach?” he asked. According to Merus’s update earlier, the Sorcieri’s spell had weakened by half in a matter of minutes, exposing their entire eastern front.
Feliks and his fucking games.
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