The bride of lycaster ly.., p.27
The Bride of Lycaster (Lycaster series Book 1), page 27
Don’t you hide from me.
“I hope I did not disappoint.” I squeezed my shoulders forward. “I know you must have expected bigger—”
Before I could finish, Riyan gripped the hair on the back of my head and forced my lips up to meet his. The slight tug on the roots of my hair was shockingly exhilarating. His other hand wrapped around the side of my waist and held me down as my back arched up.
He broke the kiss and his lips hovered over mine before he moved lower.
His hot breath wrapped around my neck. “Do you feel it too?”
I shivered. “Wh-what in particular?”
“The pull between us.” He moved lower. “That burning inside that’s guiding my every move. That gold fire.”
His lips and the tip of his nose caressed my collarbone before he kissed me between my breasts, right over my pounding heart. “Right here.”
The tongues of magical golden fire flared at his touch. Even though our bond burned me from the inside, I closed my eyes to savor the warmth of his breath on my bare chest. “Y-yes. Please keep going.”
He dragged the tip of his tongue all the way down my middle and tasted my belly, only stopping where my skirt met my skin.
I opened my eyes and found Riyan looking up at me expectantly with both hands around my hips and his fingers gripping the waist of my skirt.
“I did get to see you,” I said through heavy breaths. “It is only fair, after all.”
Riyan chuckled low in his throat and tugged off my skirt and undergarments in one swift pull. The rumpled clothes smacked against the wall after he threw them like they had offended him.
Once I was naked, Riyan went quiet. He studied what was between my parted knees for a few breaths and his silence made my stomach cave in.
“Did you not study diagrams of women at the military academy?” I asked.
Riyan’s eyes met mine and his eyebrows furrowed. “Any drawings of women I found were not for academic purposes.” His gaze wandered back down to my hips.
“Do you…do you know what to do?” I asked. Maybe the pull of the blood bond stopped short of giving detailed instructions.
Riyan glanced up at me and the corners of his mouth turned up in an evil smile. He gently took my right hand, dragged it along my thigh, and held it above my pulsing desire.
“Show me,” he ordered.
I took in a slow, sweet breath and closed my eyes. My fingertips sparked to life and I slowly stroked myself the way I did when I was alone at night. I licked my lips and dared let a moan escape my throat as I stoked my own fire.
When I used to touch myself, I would either imagine Derrick or that handsome school guard who used to sneak Annalisa treats. But as the sensation built, I opened my eyes and found the crooked smile and tight muscles of the only man I wanted to think about as I pleasured myself.
Riyan’s right hand wrapped around my hip. His thumb gently pushed my hand out of the way and took over with soft stroking motions of his own. I melted into his touch.
“Like that?” he whispered. His breath kissed my temple.
I whimpered and nodded. I gripped the blankets as my heart raced. Riyan switched from downward strokes to circles and my legs opened up even more. My breath shuddered and he stopped.
Cruel bastard.
Riyan dropped his thumb and replaced it with the tip of his index finger, gently stroking my slit like he was knocking on the door.
“Please,” I whispered.
“Only because you’re being so sweet to me,” Riyan replied.
Riyan eased his finger in and I whimpered. Just one of his fingers was nearly the size of two of mine, but my body not only accepted him, it begged for more.
“Do these happy little noises mean you like what I’m doing?”
I hummed in assent. My muscles pulsed around him as he stroked me from the inside. My stomach clenched as pressure built within me.
He leaned down and kissed me hungrily as I ground my hips in time with his hand. I gripped his strong arms to keep from spilling over too quickly. The calluses on his palm hit me just right.
“More,” I begged into his mouth. “More, more, more.”
“Now look who doesn’t have any manners?” Riyan replied with a smirk against my lips. “I never was a gentleman, but you stopped being a lady the instant you entered my bed.”
“Asshole,” I whimpered.
“Oh, you’re bad,” he growled. “I’d better give you what you want before you get even nastier.”
He eased in a second finger and lightning shot up my spine. I arched myself like a lyre as Riyan plucked my strings.
He picked up speed and sent me catapulting over the edge. My chest seized my breath from my throat as release rushed out of me like a rainstorm. My legs trembled, but Riyan did not stop.
“I’m about to fucking snap,” Riyan hissed through his teeth. “You’re ready for me.”
I found my breath and gasped. I clawed his rock-hard biceps as my lower half shook with the tremors of my climax. I took in another breath as a cry built in my chest.
“Riyan!” I screamed.
The air shifted. Riyan’s muscles loosened. All the control he had broke in an instant.
Riyan took his hand out of me and gripped my waist so tightly I could not breathe. He picked me up and threw me onto my back in the center of the mattress.
Before I could get my bearings, Riyan leaped on top of me and the wooden bedframe cracked under his force. The mattress fell through the broken frame and thudded to the floor.
My vision shook as the shattered bed hit the ground. Riyan propped up on his elbows above me. I caught a glimpse of his hungry and animalistic eyes before he dove toward my mouth. He kissed me, bit me, and stole all my air as he tasted the last drops of my screams of ecstasy.
He slid his hand under my back and jerked me into his chest.
He is going to snap her spine.
He gripped my thigh with his free hand and forced my legs open wider.
He is going to break her legs.
Riyan pressed his chest into mine as his hand left my thigh to undo his pants. My ribs bowed under his weight. My heart raced. I could not breathe.
He is going to crush her to death.
My arms were trapped between the mattress and his chest. I weakly punched him in the clavicle, but he did not feel me. I scratched at him as my lungs burned and I wrenched my lips away from his and gulped in a shallow sip of air before I pleaded for my life.
“Riyan!” I gasped.
His mouth found mine again and he kissed me even harder. He pressed his chest deeper into mine. My ribcage was going to crack just like the bed had. I struggled underneath him as much as I could but he either did not notice or did not care.
I finally understood why Derrick wanted me to have the dagger at all times. He knew brutes lose control. He was just trying to keep me alive.
Stars danced in the dark edges of my blurry vision. I turned my chin to the side to escape his lips and let out a final cry of desperation.
“I cannot breathe,” I croaked.
Riyan threw himself off me with a short gasp and the room shook as he hit the floor. I let in a strained, shaking breath as my chest inflated. I laid my hand over my pounding heart as I slowly breathed through the burning in my lungs.
My back muscles flared with pain as I slowly climbed into a sitting position on the mattress. I took short, staggered breaths and tried to calm my frantic heartbeat.
Riyan kneeled on the floor beside the fallen mattress. His shoulders slumped forward and his hands gripped his knees—somehow his pants had stayed on. Tiny drops of blood blossomed out of the little cuts in his arms where he had hit the broken glass on the floor. His big eyes watered as he watched me struggle to breathe.
“Serafina, I’m so sorry,” he said with a heavy voice. “I thought you were enjoying yourself. I didn’t even know you were—”
He cut himself off. He squeezed his eyes shut and dipped his chin toward his chest. He took in a sharp breath and rose to his feet. He walked to the door with heavy footsteps, crushing glass beneath his bare feet without a flinch.
“Where are you going?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
“Outside,” he replied, keeping his eyes bolted toward the door. “I don’t belong here.”
The golden light of our bond wrapped around my granite heart and tugged on the smooth surface. As the bond squeezed a new crack in the stone, my hand jolted up to reach out to him.
“Wait,” I pleaded. My voice was stronger than before, but my stomach was still weak.
Riyan turned his head. His jaw was set tight but his eyebrows furrowed as he let out a breath. I curled my outstretched hand back to my chest and placed it over my heart.
“Stay,” I asked.
Riyan turned his body toward me but shook his head. “How can you trust me after what I just did? How could you ever want me to touch you again?”
Because I just…wanted him to. Even if it made no logical sense.
The cold mountain air pricked my bare skin and raised the hair on my arms. I needed his warm body and strong arms around me if I was going to face another night with all my confusing feelings fighting each other in my head.
The muscles in my face relaxed but I did not take my eyes off him.
“Stay,” I ordered.
Riyan’s face softened. He carefully walked back to the plush mattress and eased himself next to me. All the tiny cuts on his arms had already magically closed up and healed. He laid on his side and curled his body to fit on the square mattress. Riyan rested his head on top of two pillows, his shoulders sloped forward and his back curved, and his glassy eyes looked up at me as I sat next to him.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” Riyan said, his warm breath making the skin on my belly tingle. “Not on Selection Night, not now—”
“Do I look hurt to you?” I asked softly. For once, I was not lying—my pain and soreness had somehow disappeared.
The magic in my veins pushed me to touch him. He tensed as I gently placed my hand on his forearm, but then he relaxed after a heartbeat.
“You have my blood now, so it looks like you heal quickly too,” Riyan said. He swallowed and his voice dropped to a whisper. “But you still scared the shit out of me.”
I lifted up his heavy forearm and laid down on the mattress, placing his arm around my body like a blanket. I did not want to talk about what almost happened. The golden light swirling around in my chest only wanted closeness.
Riyan’s eyes brightened a little as I snuggled him. His gaze wandered up to the top of my head and he let himself smile.
“You still look like my faerie princess,” he said as he played with one of the lilies that managed to stay in my braid. His thumb dropped to caress my forehead and he chuckled. “If you were stuck on that glass hill, I wouldn’t need a magic horse or any of that bullshit to save you. I would just punch the glass and shatter it so you could slide down into my arms.”
A short laugh escaped my lips. “You cannot solve every problem by punching it, Riyan.”
His fingertips caressed my back in long strokes. “I’m slowly starting to figure that out.”
Riyan draped the knitted blanket over me but kept his arm over my waist and his hand on my back. I leaned into the pillow underneath my head and stared at the center of Riyan’s chest. I watched his chest rise and fall, imagining that ball of golden light twisting around his heart.
The marriage enchantment was indeed special, but not like the Ashmore matrons had described. It had given me the ability to heal. It had even made me braver, more introspective, and, dare I think it, nonsensical.
I had already defied my rock-solid logic and reasoning by staying close to the man who had nearly suffocated me and I could not explain what drove me to want to touch him so badly. I had never felt that way about Derrick, or anyone else for that matter.
For some reason, Mother’s words about fear and love being two sides of the same blade sang in my mind. Her ridiculous rambling made no sense the first time and it still made no sense as I mulled over it again. Still, that little spark of gold around my heart compelled me to make sense of it all.
“Riyan, what do you think love is?” I asked.
Riyan’s chest stilled for a heartbeat, then he let out a long breath.
“Love is,” he replied, letting the words slowly roll off his tongue, “when you realize you would do anything for someone because their life and happiness matters more than yours.”
I hummed and kept staring at his chest. His logic was more sound than my mother’s. Maybe I could take his word for what love really was.
My chest fell. I did not care about anyone else more than my own survival. I had closed off my heart to keep myself safe from pain, but I had never realized how selfish my protection was until Riyan spelled out what the opposite meant.
My defenses had all but crumbled and I had let Riyan closer to my truest self than I had ever allowed anyone in before, but I still kept him safely away from my heart. Even though he held me against him, I might as well have been on the peak of my own mountain far away.
Riyan’s voice rumbled low in his throat as he spoke again. “I’ll tell you a secret if you tell me one first.”
I sighed and kept my eyes fixed on his chest as Riyan lazily stroked my back. The secret I was about to let out was ugly and cold, but I promised myself I would be honest.
“I do not love anyone,” I said.
Riyan’s hand stopped caressing my skin. I bit my tongue and closed my eyes.
“Not anyone?” he asked. “Not even Brietta Elvar? Or your parents?”
I let out a shaking breath onto my pillow and opened my eyes. I was only brave enough to look up at Riyan’s chin. My lip trembled as another confession slithered out of me.
“I have not loved anyone since my brothers died.”
My eyes stung with tears. I slammed my eyelids shut and clenched my fists in the knitted blanket. I needed to distract myself with Riyan’s voice so I would not cry.
“What is your secret?” I opened my eyes and stared at the center of his chest again.
“Oh, uh,” he stammered, “I drink a lot.”
“That is not a secret.” I unclenched my body and let a smile break through my lips. “I open up about my ugliest truth and you tell me that? How is that fair?”
“I…” He paused, then he cleared his throat. “It’s not fair. You’re right.”
Riyan sighed. I waited for him to tell me what his secret actually was, but he gently ran his fingertips along my spine and settled into silence.
Just as my eyelids grew heavy, Riyan hummed the notes to the song of the Man of the Mountain. His low voice rumbled around me like a slow avalanche. I closed my eyes and smiled.
“I like your singing,” I whispered into the pillow.
Riyan dipped his chin to rest on the top of my head. “Humming is not singing.”
My head sank into the feathers of the pillow. I breathed in nectar and wheat.
“Where is West of the Moon and East of the Sun?” I asked as I stifled a yawn.
“It’s another name for the peak of Nordingaard,” Riyan replied. “It’s the realm of beasts and monsters where magic warps trees and animals speak.”
I yawned and started to tumble into the welcoming abyss of unconsciousness.
“I hate that place,” I whispered. “It took everything from me.”
The gentle tide of Riyan’s breath sent me to sleep and his last words kissed me goodnight. “Me too, sweetheart.”
I woke up realizing I wore nothing but the memories of Riyan’s lips on my skin.
Somehow I did not mind.
My arms were wrapped around Riyan’s forearm and my cheek pressed into his skin. Riyan was sitting up in bed and looking out the broken window at the golden sunrise. Purple crescents drooped under his heavy eyes and his cracked lips pursed like he was holding back sickness.
I rubbed my eyes and shifted my hips. “Were you awake all night?”
He blinked like he startled himself out of a nightmare. “I was. I was thinking.”
I pulled myself out from underneath Riyan’s arm and sat up next to him. He did not move his eyes from the rising sun. My stomach twisted at his silence, so I gently placed my hand on his bicep.
“I admitted I was afraid last night,” Riyan said. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I haven’t allowed myself to feel afraid since the first battle with the giants.”
I gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “There is nothing wrong with feeling afraid, Riyan.”
“If you’re me, there is,” Riyan said bitterly. “When I’m afraid, my body sabotages me. My blood ignites, my bones twist, my muscles scream, and I get bigger. The magic in my blood forces me to grow because it’s trying to protect me from harm…but all it does is hurt me.”
I furrowed my brow. “When was the last time you grew?”
Riyan turned his face from the window and looked straight ahead at the stone wall of the bedroom. “When I was fifteen. I was a little taller than General Hyton, but I was living a relatively normal life. Then we went to the first battle against the giants…and I saw so many boys my age and younger…”
Riyan’s jaw tightened. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. “I can’t even talk about it.”
Birds chirped outside as we sat in heavy silence. I could not imagine something so horrible that even he refused to talk about it.
“I may have lived, but I shouldn’t say I survived that battle. Sometimes I’m still at the peak of Nordingaard, fighting those giants over and over again in my head.”
I wrapped my other hand around his massive bicep and pressed my forehead against his skin. His tight muscles vibrated as he spoke.
