Cast Into Shadow

by Angela Colsin

  In doing so, it grew increasingly hard to believe their bond might still be growing considering how closely tied to him she already felt. Even as her orgasm faded with Mikail still coming inside her, there was no questioning their connection, leaving her incapable of doing anything but basking in the aftermath of their sex as her inner muscles contracted around his cock.

  All she wanted in those moments was to be as close to him as possible, shivering as he grunted with the last of his release, his arms tightening around her body possessively as if reeling from the intensity of satisfaction. So she affectionately nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck while stroking her fingers along the sinew of his back to show just how much he'd pleased her.

  But though he seemed satisfied, he obviously wasn't done.

  With little effort—and no warning—the big Warlord lifted her and turned, withdrawing from between her legs before dropping her onto the mattress so quickly she gasped. Landing on her right side, she looked up in time to see him grabbing her left leg to sling over an arm as his knees parted on each side of the other.

  The result put his hips between her open thighs, her heart pounding when he grasped his cock in a big fist to push the cap against her slick folds.

  She'd never had sex in such a position before, but couldn't find the words to say so before he penetrated her body with a thrust that made her sway.

  “Mikail! Ah … yes!”

  Holding her leg secure against his chest with one hand, his hips started thrusting at a demanding pace, voice a sultry tone in moaning, “That what you wanted, love?”

  Unable to trust her own voice, she nodded, a new wave of pleasure quick to spark as he groaned, “Still can't believe how good this feels.”

  Kivsey wanted to agree, to tell him she'd never made love this way before, or at least utter something generic like you're so damn big. But the only sound that escaped her throat was a sensual moan as she rocked from the hard pace he maintained.

  Each plunge between her legs was demanding, possessive, and the only thing that rivaled the pleasure his movements caused was their bond, a tie that extended far beyond their physical connection. As expected, making love to Mikail was tethering them for all time, instincts she couldn't readily identify telling her she'd never again be complete without him. He's my mate as much as I'm his.

  The thought didn't present itself as a suggestion, but instead, as an immutable truth. She knew Mikail was hers alone with a startling amount of confidence, and even more surprising was how easy she found it to accept. Still, as he drove deep between her legs, picking up speed and strength until the bed was rocking in protest, the thought of denying their matehood left her feeling empty.

  No, she needed to accept their bond, to have him in her life no matter what—and she needed to tell him the same.

  So, as her body bounced from his insistent thrusts, she rasped the words, “I know you're mine, Mikail.”

  “What?”

  “Y-you're mine,” she repeated. “I know you're my mate.”

  Almost immediately, his movements stopped, and Kivsey peered up to see him staring down at her with a look of longing so intense she would've kissed him if she had the means. But he was just out of reach in their current position, panting in asking, “Are you certain?”

  “Just as certain as I am disappointed that you stopped.” Squirming her hips against him, she added breathlessly, “You're not gonna make me beg for it, are you?”

  His chest heaving, a moment of silence passed between them in which she could only wonder what he was thinking. But he finally gifted her with a sensuous smile that made her heart flutter before lifting her left leg around his side.

  In turn, Kivsey rolled onto her back and immediately embraced him when he leaned forward to capture her mouth in a hard kiss.

  Simultaneously, his hips started moving again with a masculine growl that was met by her throaty moan, and she lifted her legs around his sides, hands sliding across his back and down to his hard ass, delighting in the way it flexed beneath her fingers.

  “You don't have to beg to be fucked,” he rasped as their lips broke contact. “But I will make you beg me to let you come.”

  Her heart fluttered over the insinuation just as he asked, “Are you close?”

  “Oh yes,” she whimpered, which didn't seem to be the right answer—his hips slowed their movements drastically, making her squirm.

  “No! Don't stop!”

  “No?” He breathed the word, asking, “Need it harder?”

  “Yes,” she moaned low.

  Though he emitted a lusty growl in response, he remarked deviously, “No, I'm not done enjoying that tight, wet clench on my cock.”

  Another slow, deep thrust had her going insane. “Please!”

  “Please what?”

  Groaning, she rasped, “Please let me come, Mikail!”

  As if her words had just set fire to his blood, he finally gave her precisely what she wanted, hammering between her thighs in a frenzy.

  “You drive me mad, love,” he rasped. “Waited so long to find you … ached to have you … and you're more than I could've dreamed.”

  The statement was incredulous, as if he could barely believe it was true and couldn't stop himself from taking full advantage by pounding between her legs so hard the entire room seemed to quake.

  She cried out in response, clenching his insistent cock between her legs as their bodies moved together, churning emotions to the surface so raw they were painful. The love she felt for Mikail was constant, growing until her heart felt as if it would burst—yet another confession she needed to make.

  But she could barely figure out how to form words, and didn't try. Instead, she dug her nails into his ass, urging him without words to keep going, which seemed to push him into a frenzy.

  At once, he started hammering, growling above her as if to say he wouldn't be denied. Simultaneously, his mouth pressed sporadic kisses to her lips, her chest, then her breasts, the pleasure between them building to a breaking point—and damn, did she break.

  Crying his name, her muscles tightened around his hard shaft as she exploded, thrashing and squirming beneath his big body in a merciless torrent that sent her to unexpectedly blissful heights.

  As if she'd just touched heaven itself.

  Somehow, as the pleasure rolled through her, the thought made it seem as if she was wrong all along. She'd told Mikail he'd left heaven to find her, but now that she was spent and panting beneath him, clutching his body to hers like a lifeline, she had to question if that was entirely true.

  After all, there was no other place she'd rather be than in her bed, sharing those intimate moments with the man who'd stolen her heart, and she truly doubted he felt any differently.

  So maybe heaven wasn't a place, but a frame of mind, and if so, she was certain they'd just found it together.

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  ♦

  Kivsey had it all wrong. Mikail hadn't left heaven, he'd found it, and she was now coming beneath him.

  The pleasure they were sharing was simply too damned good to think otherwise—and gods, she'd recognized him as her own mate in turn. The mere thought filled him with more contentment than he'd ever known, making it seem impossible to take her hard enough.

  Not that he didn't try, driving deep inside her body until his seed erupted in a blinding wave of bliss.

  Shouting her name, he pinned Kivsey down as she bucked, savoring the tight, rhythmic clench between her legs with a loud groan. His orgasm seemed endless, drawn out by his mate's cries until he gave one last thrust before collapsing over her, his chest heaving and mind reeling in disbelief.

  Did he actually have Kivsey beneath him, moaning breathlessly from the force of her orgasm? If not, he was content to stay in whatever fantasy world he'd entered, using the remainder of his strength to roll onto his back while keeping her trembling body close, unable to bear a moment of separation.

  She seemed equally affectionate i
n their aftermath, eagerly kissing her way along his neck, chest, and finally, his mouth, their lips locking together for long, blissful moments—and no matter how well she'd sated his desires, he knew he'd never get enough. The way her soft body shifted against his as she worked to kiss and touch whatever part of him she could reach was so damned good he could barely process it.

  Nothing could've prepared him, not even his numerous dreams—a sentiment she obviously shared.

  “This feels so good I can barely stand it,” she rasped against his ear.

  A low groan rumbled forth from his chest, his hands sliding across the curve of her back and down to clutch her ass in admitting, “You're making me hard again.”

  “Good, because I don't want this to end,” she whispered, her breathless tone laced with desire in adding, “and there's still plenty of time for more.”

  She kissed him again as if to prove it—and he was more than ready to draw this out for as long as they could possibly stand it. But her comment was confusing, prompting him to ask once their lips broke contact, “Why wouldn't we have time?”

  Kivsey lifted her head, eyes still glazed over by passion as she regarded him curiously, as if unable to understand the source of his question.

  But she soon rasped, “Oh! I forgot to tell you I promised Mom we'd be gone by morning. So we'll need to get our things together soon.”

  After recent events, that wasn't surprising, and for all his interest in continuing on with their intimacies, it was also tempting to stop for now and commence with their departure from Joan's abode. He didn't want to stay where he wasn't welcome, after all, and the only question was where they might go.

  So he parted his lips to ask if Kivsey had any ideas, but the only sound that escaped his throat was a groan when her mouth locked on his in a sweet, even loving kiss.

  Their lips slowly brushed together, her tongue stroking inside his mouth with an affectionate care that left him powerless not to respond in kind. It was the type of kiss he could never imagine sharing with anyone but his mate, and the emotion behind it truly made him wonder—now that she knew he was hers beyond any doubt, did he also have her heart?

  Perhaps not, and the notion was extremely disappointing. After all, their bond as mates was just the tip of the iceberg—ultimately, he wanted everything this woman had to give.

  Still, for as much as he wanted to ask, and as deeply as their passion had clouded his perception, he wasn't oblivious when an unexpected sound emanated from the backyard of the home. It was too distant to immediately identify, but broke through their interlude like a flash of lightning in a dark sky, though Kivsey seemed to have missed it entirely because she broke her mouth from his to speak.

  “Mikail, I'm fall—”

  Her statement stopped when he shushed her by pressing a finger against her lips, using the silence that followed to listen carefully to their surroundings, which confirmed his suspicions.

  With his mate staring down at him questioningly, he gazed up and asked, “Do you hear that?”

  Kivsey shook her head in the negative. “Hear what?”

  Without hesitation, he related, “Your mother's dogs are growling.”

  “The dogs?”

  It wasn't easy to focus on Mikail's statement. Kivsey was still so dazed by their intimacies she only wanted to think of ways to confess her love for the man who'd taken her to such heights of pleasure, and certainly hadn't heard anything coming from the backyard.

  But when he mentioned the sound of growling, she listened more carefully to finally detect distant barks and snarls that were more aggressive than her mother's rottweilers were typically known to be.

  On an average day, the canines were nothing but oversized teddy bears that loved to snuggle and play around the yard. But with all the people gathered for the party that evening, she asked, “Do you think it's just the commotion downstairs?”

  “No. They've been docile all evening,” Mikail related with a serious glint in his crimson eyes, adding, “until now.”

  She held his gaze, unable to argue his point, and even if she could, why would she? There was no reason to take risks, and if someone such as an assassin was lurking nearby, it was best for everyone involved if they left.

  So she immediately tore herself away from Mikail and climbed out of bed, adjourning to her dresser to grab the first garment available—a white tank top with a bunny sleeping under the moon printed on the front, and the matching periwinkle shorts. The pajamas weren't a great choice for travel, particularly with her garters and pumps, but there was no time to worry over suitable clothing.

  Mikail didn't even go for his shirt. Instead, he simply donned his pants and shoes, then grabbed his sword hidden between the nightstand and the bed.

  Ready to exit the room, Kivsey abruptly stopped to remind him of his talisman sitting on the table, and Mikail rolled his eyes, proving he still hadn't grown accustomed to taking the item wherever he went.

  He simply didn't have a chance to grab it before the sound of shattering glass hit their ears.

  Without hesitation, the couple looked in the direction of the closest window to see that it was now broken, though neither of them could process the sight or its meaning before a glaring light illuminated the room.

  Mikail's reaction was immediate. Growling in pain, the Warlord turned his head away, blinded by the flare. Likewise, Kivsey averted her gaze only to find numerous spots floating in her vision.

  Yet her biggest concern was for her mate, and she quickly reached out to make certain he was okay.

  “Mikail! Are you—aah!”

  With her vision still blotchy, it was difficult to know precisely what happened. But the moment she reached for Mikail, he pulled her toward his body so quickly she stumbled to her hands and knees behind him.

  Swiftly turning her head to see why revealed Mikail cloaking himself in shadow while lifting his blade to meet against a masked assassin's sword with a loud clash of metal.

  Clad in black from head to foot, the sight of the intruder was disorienting. Kivsey had to remind herself that he was a demon who could teleport before his presence even made sense, and he'd probably done so just after the flare went off in the hopes of killing her during a moment where Mikail was blinded and unable to protect her.

  But the Warlord had done so anyway, pulling her out of harm's way in time to prevent her demise.

  Even still, the bright light was detrimental for darkwalking as Mikail's cloak wasn't entirely effective with the continuous glow emanating from whatever magical object this assassin had thrown through the window. Instead of being completely invisible, the light breaking around his body caused shimmers to give away his movements, allowing the assassin to more easily track him.

  But Mikail wasn't helpless. With their blades crossed, he pushed forward, shoving the demon back despite the fact that he likely had no use of his eyes. Proving the assumption correct, his silhouette next assumed a defensive stance as if using other senses to make up for his lack of vision.

  Perhaps his training as a Warlord entailed a method of fighting while blind, and if so, that ability was a blessing considering the assassin had no compunctions about launching another attack.

  But no matter how skilled Mikail was, their ensuing fight left Kivsey scouring her brain for some way to help since a physical engagement was out of the question. Even if she knew how to use a blade, a Perosian's strength far outmatched her own, and she'd be dead in less than a minute.

  In fact, she had no idea how well her lover would fair when the demon quickly drew his blade across the Warlord's chest.

  Kivsey grimaced as if her own flesh had been lacerated, though it seemed to have hurt her more than Mikail because he merely snarled and deflected the assassin's next attempt to cause harm.

  Still, the sooner that blinding light was doused, the better his chances would be—not that it was easy to pinpoint the source. The glare near the window was simply too luminous to see through, leaving her unable to find w
hatever was causing it to throw outside without searching through a ton of broken glass.

  But there were other ways to deal with the problem, and Kivsey quickly grabbed a bed sheet before rushing toward the window to smother the illumination.

  Thankfully, her ploy did the trick, the light greatly diminished beneath the folds of cloth, and though it would take Mikail's vision a few minutes to return, she realized upon looking back that the room was dimmed enough to allow darkwalking without detection.

  The silhouette of light bending around the edges of his body had vanished entirely, giving the Dok'aal an advantage their enemy seemed to be aware of because he hesitated—and Mikail took his chance.

  Though he was unseen, he must've stabbed the demon in the chest because a gush of blood erupted from his back with a pained grunt emerging from his lips.

  Sadly, the blow wasn't enough to incapacitate the assassin, and instead, he blindly jabbed his weapon forward, though it didn't look or sound as if he'd hit anything—at first.

  However, in tugging his arm back, Kivsey's heart nearly exploded at the sight of blood dripping down the edge of the blade before he quickly stabbed it forward again.

  “No!”

  Panic suffused her mind so thoroughly it almost seemed as if her scream had come from miles away, her blood turning cold when the shadows faded from Mikail's body to reveal her mate falling to his knees with two gaping holes in his torso.

  But the worst of it came when the assassin released his weapon to draw a smaller dagger from his belt, then viciously swiped it across Mikail's throat.

  As his blood spattered to the floor, time seemed to stop—or maybe that was her heart. It wasn't easy to tell which when her entire body had gone numb, even as a panic induced stupor propelled her toward her mate despite the danger.