Sandy Williams - The Sharpest Blade

His lips slide to my stomach. Another taste.

His mouth moves higher. A lick, just under my breast.

I’m trying to hold myself still—I don’t want to pull him out of the moment; I don’t want him to stop—but my body gives a tiny buck, and he freezes. His breath is warm on my breast, and I want him so badly, I ache. I bite my lower lip, silently pleading for him to continue.

Suddenly, his hands leave my body. He stands, taking a half step away from me.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

I wrack my brain for something to say, some way to pull him back to me, but he just stands there staring at me as if he has no fucking idea what he’s doing.

“Aren—”

He moves, his mouth taking mine in a brutal, bruising kiss.

Fire explodes through me, ricocheting in my stomach and sending a hot, molten heat downward. I grab his shoulders again because I’m not going to let him go. I dig my fingers into the muscles of his back and part my lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss.

He does, tasting me. I moan and press closer.

He grabs my hips as he pulls my lower lip between his teeth. His bite surprises me, sending a sharp jolt of pain or pleasure—I’m not sure which—through me.

I gasp a second later, not from Aren’s nip but from the alarm vibrating through my life-bond. But I can’t stifle the need building inside of me, and quickly, Kyol catches on. I feel him vanish from this world, feel a wall fall between us. I should be concerned about him, considerate of his feelings, but Aren’s scent is intoxicating, and I can only think of him.

I fist my hand in his shirt, slide it up.

“I want this off you,” I say. I slip my fingers under his weapons belt. “This, too.”

“Yes.” No hesitation. No protest. He’s mine.

He loops his arm around my waist, swinging me around. The back of my legs hit the couch. Aren pulls off his shirt, drops his belt to the floor, then moves over me. My gaze is locked on his chest, then on a bright bolt of lightning that zigzags across his perfect abs. Perfect even with a deep scar cutting between the muscles. My fingers find a new one on his shoulder, then I slide my hands to his face, pull him closer.

I can’t lose you, I want to say, but I kiss him instead, my hips rising to press against his.

He’s still wearing his pants. I tug at them, kiss him harder.

He breaks the kiss, separating from me just enough to gaze into my eyes.

The light from his chaos lusters reflects off my skin, and my heart thunders in my chest. This is the brink, the one I’ve stood on too many times to count, and I can practically hear Aren’s thoughts demanding for him to stop.

I jerk harder on the hem of his pants, rubbing against him.

He shudders. A moment later, his pants are gone. Then my underwear, too.

His body is hard, lean, exquisite. My hands explore him while his lips explore me, trailing hot shocks of lightning down my neck, my collarbone, lower. I lurch into him when he kisses the lower swell of my breast again, then drags his tongue upward. I didn’t know I could want him more, but desire explodes through me, creating a hot ache between my legs. His hand is there the next second. Making the ache better or worse? I don’t know.

He murmurs into my ear. Something in Fae. A question. My mind is too filled with him to do anything but nod yes. Yes to everything he wants.

He watches me as he repositions himself, something akin to wonder in his silver eyes. I feel exotic. I feel treasured. Then I feel him sliding into me.

No pain. Just heat and pleasure and Aren . He’s experienced. I’m not, but my body reacts to his movements, matching his thrusts to bring him closer, deeper.

The ache between my legs intensifies, and I’m filled with an indescribable yearning. I wrap my legs around his hips, wanting more even though I can’t possibly take more.

“Sidhe,” Aren gasps, then, a heartbeat later, we both cry out when an incredibly hot and potent chaos luster strikes between our connected bodies.

My eyes spring open. I’m not sure when I closed them but the media room is bright with the lightning flashing across our skin.

Our skin. And, impossibly, it isn’t just his blue edarratae causing the glow. My edarratae , which should only appear when I’m in the Realm, are white-hot and spiraling around us.

And spiraling within us. They’re moving faster and faster, matching the intensity of the pleasure building between my legs. So hot. So heavenly. So much .

I dig my nails into his back. I need to be grounded, or the lightning will shatter me, I’m certain of it.

“Sidhe,” Aren rasps out again. All his muscles are taut. He’s at the edge of his control. I’m so far beyond mine.

The ecstasy builds, current by current, and the frenzied light flashing around our bodies is almost constant. I’m not sure anything but the edarratae ’s heat is touching us now. The lightning shoots around us like starlight, lifted inches above our glistening skin.

“Aren,” I gasp. “It’s—”

“Hold on to me.” His voice is strained. He’s moving in and out of me, his pace as frenzied as the lightning’s.

And then it happens. Our chaos lusters solidify into a disc of light that explodes outward when the rush of pleasure hits, and the release, the ecstasy. It’s indescribable.

“I TOLD YOU I was the right thing,” I murmur later when I’m wrapped in Aren’s arms. I love the way his chuckle rumbles against my back.

“You were right, of course.” He presses his lips to the crook of my neck.

I close my eyes and smile, soaking in the warm simmer of his kiss. It took a few rounds, but our chaos lusters have finally settled. We can even touch, lingering in each other’s embraces, without the lightning arousing us too much.

“This is nice,” I say, the biggest understatement of the century. Lying here with him is pure bliss.

I feel him smile against my neck.

I pull the blanket up to my chest, wriggling to get just a tad more comfortable.

“Careful,” Aren says, loosening his arms enough to let me move as much as I want.

“Sorry,” I say, grinning as I turn my head to the side. He places a kiss on my cheek then rests his arm across my stomach, above the blanket. My finger slides over the hard muscle of his forearm, leaving a trail of tiny chaos lusters in its wake. Absently, I draw a random design, loops and lines that fade away after a few seconds.

“I was a fool to think I could stay away from you.” His lips dip to my neck again. This time, he slides them along the raised skin there. It’s an inch-long scar he gave me when we were enemies, and I refused to read the shadows for him in Lyechaban. It’s a small, minor blemish, but I can feel regret in the way his lips linger.

Regret is the last thing I want him to feel right now.

I press the tip of my finger into his forearm twice, then swoop a curved line under the two dots.

“Smiley face,” I say, nodding toward the flickering sparks on his arm. He laughs, squeezing me tighter as the tiny lightning bolts fade.

A few minutes pass. I close my eyes, trying to keep my mind empty. I just want to relax in Aren’s arms. I don’t want to think of anything or anyone else.

“I want to stay here forever,” I murmur.

After a long moment, he replies softly, “Me too.”

I scowl at the unspoken “but” on the end of his sentence. “But we have a false-blood to hunt down,” I say.

Another hesitation as he rests his cheek against mine. “And vigilantes to track down and question. Lena’s going to want to find everyone who knows about the serum. She’s going to want to make sure it’s destroyed and that no one has the ability to replicate it.”