SUMMARY: Azriel and Gwyn celebrate the Solstice together.
WARNING: NSFW!
He had to remind himself to breathe. How fucking ridiculous was that? But he'd lost the capacity to function with Gwyn standing in the middle of his space in that dress, staring at him wide-eyed and so fucking beautiful.
"Az, where are we?" she asked again, taking a hushed step over the wooden floor toward him.
Deep inhale. One long as hell breath out. Cracking his knuckles, his hands continued to open and close at his sides.
"My apartment."
Her elegant, questioning brow arched over a teal eye. "Apartment?" She cocked her head to the side, the crisp edges of her ginger ponytail skating over her collar. "You've never mentioned an apartment before."
Another long exhale through his nose. His siphons flared cobalt from his nerves as he removed his leather grips. Az placed his fists behind his back, his scarred fingers fiddling between comforting shadows. His wings shook as he rolled his shoulders.
"No one knows about this place." He swallowed hard, seeking to gain control. "I come here when I need to be alone."
Her mouth parted as Gwyn took a few strides forward, her eyes constantly moving, taking in the sparse apartment. Nothing was decking the walls. Books on military strategy for his drunken days. A worn black leather couch. One low wooden table with a rough finish. A makeshift bar in the corner. Azriel kept some towels and essentials in the adjoining bathing chamber, much needed to rinse off the blood and regret after long nights in the Hewn City's depths. Besides that, he had a change of clothes in his wardrobe and a bed.
That's all.
No food. He seldom ate whenever he'd sulked, binged here. And above all…
With Gwyn's slender finger drifting over the leather sofa arm, Azriel's mind swerved into a dirtier direction than he demanded right now. Later, he hoped, but right now.
'Concentrate,' his shadows said, billowing over his shoulder, in and out like a wave, tracking his every sigh.
"I cleaned up a bit," he said, cringing. Why the fuck did he say that?
'Nerves,' his shadows answered. 'Focus, Shadowsinger.'
"So this is your little hidden bachelor pad, then?" Gwyn asked with an uncomfortable smile. Azriel knew all of Gwyn's grins. And that one was embarrassed and timid. A smile withholding questions and insecurities.
He expected what she was considering. "This isn't a fuck pad. I've never brought anyone here, Berdara."
Surprise lifted her eyebrows as Gwyn finally met his eyes. "Never?"
Az shook his head in return. Lowering his gaze, he stepped forward. "Never. No one knows about this place."
"But Cassian said you go away after your… work."
"Even he doesn't know where. No one does. I suspect Rhysand knows being the High Lord." And sometimes the intrusive, busybody prick he was with his daemati powers. "But no one else has ever been here except me."
His shadows stretched and roiled, making hissing sounds as if they were clearing their throats. Azriel rolled his eyes. "And the shadows, of course. But otherwise, you… you are the first, Gwyn."
Surprise crossed over her freckled face as she blinked rapidly. "No one else?"
Another step forward until a minor foot separated them.
'Be truthful, Shadowsinger.'
"No one else, Gwyn. But especially no other females I bedded."
The redheaded Valkyrie stepped until the toes of their shoes touched. Her face moved to find his eyes. "But you brought me here. Why?"
"You've witnessed my worst side. You've seen what I become during and afterward." What he was when he was there without her to hold his hands. The moment he caved inward. He swallowed around the rising lump in his throat. "You've seen me when I'm empty." Fuck, this wasn't how he wanted to end his night."You saw me, Gwyn. Parts of me that only the most wretched suffer. And yet, you're still here."
A smile graced perfect lips. "Az, where else would I be? We all have bad and good. Who are we if we can't accept both?"
He thought far away and protected.
'She is safer with you, Shadowsinger.'
"Gwyn, I brought you here because I wanted you to see. Now, this is a secret I only share with you "
Her smile broadened. "So this is our love shack now?"
Azriel let out a quiet laugh. Quickly he scrubbed a hair through his hair, messing it up with his fingers. He couldn't help but notice how the movement caught her attention. A smug smile spread across his face.
In a gesture of surrender, the shadowsinger removed his hand from behind his back and cupped her cheek. "Whatever you want, Gwyn."
And that was a pledge. Gwyneth Berdara was the ash arrow to his willpower. No matter what she asked, he would comply.
"So I'm the first?" As they searched, tears filled her ocean eyes. "Is this what you had not done?"
He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb over her freckled cheek. "No, actually. But this is indeed a first."
Her nose wrinkling was one of her tells. The redheaded spy was thinking about what else he could do. What else was he waiting for?
His shadows tapped on his knuckles, opening a distant pocket of darkness until folded parchment touched his maimed fingers. Fuck. How had he forgotten about that? For a minute, he was reaching to shoo them away, instruct them to bury the blasted note…
"What's behind your back, Shadowsinger?"
Shit. Shadows snapped impatiently at his fingers. This was absurd. The whole matter was asinine. The paper he bore was not an incendiary device. But…
'For the Cauldron's sake, give her the gift! Or we will.'
A half-grin spread across Gwyn's face as she studied the tense exchange with interest. As he offered her the note, his hand trembled. "Here. Happy Solstice."
Her eyes filled with suspicion as she grunted in amusement. "You truly didn't have to get me anything, Azriel."
"I wished to, Berdara."
Each section unfolded, each crinkle of the paper caused him to second-guess his judgment. The morning after she told him she loved him, he flew out. Ostentatious gifts were not his style. These things would not affect Gwyn. Her joy would have been unbridled if she received something he had created for her. Several bracelets were tackled, but they were too dreadful for her, and we were exiled to the back of his desk drawer.
After wandering through Velaris, past the Palace of Thread and Jewels and the Rainbow, he found a corner store called Nebulas and Signs. A few former temple priestesses recently opened a curiosity shop. Aside from oddities, healing draughts, and local artwork, the market offered a range of items. A specific thing stole his attention from the window.
Gwyn finally skimmed the words across the now open page as Azriel followed. When she fully processed what he'd done, her lower lip quivered and her eyes lined with silver. The whole thing was pure nonsense. But what it signified? What the present said without having to say the words?
Still twirling his fingers behind his back, he watched as her face lifted, masking her astonished smile as a hand came over her mouth.
"Shadowsinger, you bought me a star?"
While blood pounded in his ears, his body managed to nod. A soothing shadow stroked his wrist.
Not just any star.
When Azriel was contemplating what he should give her, he looked upon that one star in particular. One left without a holder on the shop's painted ceiling mural of the sky. Something sparked in his chest. His shadows danced and swirled, sang in agreement. The gift wasn't any ordinary solstice present. Neither a necklace nor a meaningless token. The present truly expressed the words he could not.
In the constellation of Gerona, this star was directly in the center. Gwyn had already owned his heart, but now she had proof he was truly giving it to her.
Gwyn would understand, no doubt. She was cunning, smart, articulate, and always saw beyond the written word. Took nothing at face value. From the way tears ran down her flushed cheeks, she knew.
In a quiet moment, she folded up the paper and placed it on the low table. Despite her trembling, she straightened up and faced him. Oomph! With a grunt, the shadowsinger fell backward. He felt Gwyn's arms around him. Tears smeared against his neck as she burrowed closer.
Gwyn wept, and his heart raced. Godsdammit. Were those tears of delight? Did she despise the present? Cauldron above, he knew he should have gotten her…
'Shut up, Shadowsinger. Let her speak.'
She stretched back just enough so he could see her face. Fuck, he didn't want to make her cry.
"I'm sorry, Gwyn. You made me that hat and all I…"
"Shut up, Shadowsinger," she giggled through her tears. Leaning in, she rested her forehead against his, sniffling. "Your gift is wonderful. I accept, Azriel. I'll take good care of it."
He inhaled shakily as his shadows swirled around them. "You promise?''
Because one wrong move would shatter his heart into a million fragments, he would never be able to recover. As her lips caressed his most tenderly, a tear fell from the corner of his eye.
"I do."
As their lips met again, something powerful charged the moment. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. He was going to treasure this kiss forever. Always.
She tasted like the sweetest wine and everything he could have dreamed of. Waited for. Taking a stride closer, she sank her fingers into his shoulders. Under the fabric of her navy dress, her nipples hardened and poked into his chest. One hand unraveled her hair from the tie, another grasped at her ass as she drew closer. Inebriated by her increasing arousal, his kiss deepened. Quickened.
Azriel's lips whispered the corner of her mouth, offering her the chance to breathe. Then he kissed the top of her cheek. As his mouth reached her ear, his heated breath played over her skin. "Do you still wish to do this, Gwyn?"
Her swallow was audible. "Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Shadowsinger," Gwyn said as she nibbled at his earlobe, forcing his eyes to roll into the back of his head. "It is very kind of you to ask me if I am doing fine, but stop asking me. I'm alright. Yes, I would like this very much." When she nipped more aggressively, her tongue flickered over the slight hurt. "With you, in case you're confused."
Mother fucking Cauldron.
He cradled her face with his palms as he shuffled backward down the hall to his chamber, her hands around his wrists. His shadows, although stirring with excitement, made themselves scarce. Good. At least he wouldn't have to remind them to honor their privacy.
When Gwyn followed him, her steps did not falter as her eyes grew large and lustrous as the sea. Unwavering. A steady, humble smile graced her pretty face as she followed with sure feet.
Azriel's heart thudded against his ribs. He flexed his fingers on her cheeks, aching to touch her everywhere. They had intimate moments before, but this was different. Different in so many ways.
The moment she got beyond the doorframe, Azriel stood still and released his hold. Standing in front of her with Gwyn's back to the open door, he cast her a choice. There was no issue with her leaving.
Slowly and calmly, she shut the door behind her. She beamed as she rounded to face him anew. He stalked forward, hoisting her chin with his finger.
"If we do this, you need to promise me something, Gwyn."
"Anything," she responded, her tone breathless.
As he relived their first time touching months ago in his bedroom at the House of Wind, he smirked, "Communication is still important. I need you to talk to me."
"Like dirty talk?"
Laughing, he pecked at her freckled nose. Gods, she was cute. "If you want to, Gwyn, you go right ahead. I enjoy hearing the words cock and fuck from your beautiful mouth."
It was her turn to cackle. "Noted. So you want me to talk about?"
"I need you to tell me anything that bothers you or hurts you. You don't want to do something. If you have questions. If anything feels good. I want to discover you, Berdara." His lips brushed against her forehead.
The grip on his shoulders tightened as she licked her lower lip. "Alright." When she inclined to kiss him, he put a finger on her lips.
"One further thing. Despite what your books say; there is no point of no return." Possibly the worst thing for susceptible young priestesses to read. Absolute bullshit.
She angled her head in inquiry. "How do you know what my books say, Az?"
The corners of his lips twitched into a sheepish grin. "Your list. I may have looked up those chapters and passages. For research."
"Ah," Gwyn said, as her cheeks bloomed pink. "So you—"
"I am now well-versed in what you want, Gwyneth Berdara," Azriel confessed, and his remarks made her shiver. "However, the way the males approach sex in the scenes didn't suit me. If you say stop, I'll stop. No question. No matter how far we are. Is that clear?"
"Yes," she said.
As he exhaled, Az let his hands caress the side of her face. As one fell behind her neck, the other slid behind her back, where her dress was fastened. Playing with the stays, he awaited permission.
With Gwyn's whispered yes, Azriel lowered his mouth to hers. In a trance, her trembling fingers worked furiously at his shirt buttons as he untied the dress. Tugging and pulling. Hurried and methodical. Until velvet loosened and exposed even softer bare skin. Her spine curved gracefully as his fingertips dragged upwards. In a gasp, Gwyn arched into him, flattening her gorgeous breasts against his chest. She shivered as his fingers slipped downward.
Against her lips, Azriel murmured, "You're so fucking responsive."
His fingers skimmed along the length of her spine, landing just above the area where the dress parted. Fingers spanning her lower back, his hand remained. He groaned. "You're so beautiful. So fucking perfect, Gwyn."
"You're just saying that because your hand is by my ass," Gwyn teased, squealing as he squeezed her.
With a smile, his lips roamed over her cheek, followed her jaw. Moving on to her long, graceful neck as his hands settled on her shoulders. Pushing the sleeves off, his mouth left wet kisses as he uncovered bare skin, a gift unwrapped. With his lips, he pursued the fabric down her arms and over her chest. Until her torso was naked. In full view, as he kneeled before her.
Gwyn shrugged shyly, revealing Nesta's advice on not to wear a bra with the dress. She didn't shield herself as he took her in. Five words he never would have thought he'd ever say: Praise the Mother for Nesta.
Her heart pounded as Azriel palmed her breast and sketched its contours with his lips. Torturous, open kisses upon soft skin left his lips damp as he reached the pointed tip. His tongue darted out over the already taut peak, circling. Gwyn moaned and burrowed her fingers into his scalp.
Azriel pushed down until the rest of the dress puddled on the floor as he licked and nipped. As his lips wandered across her chest from one ample swell to the next, his fingers pushed her lace panties down her long legs as they accompanied the gown around her ankles.
He set back on his haunches, taking in the breathtaking view. The perfume of her decadent arousal was potent and alluring. Against the blush of her freckled alabaster skin, her eyes were a darkened, turbulent sea of lust.
He bit back his groan. "Gwyneth."
"Yes, Azriel," she hummed, with her palm still on his head, fingers sifting through strands.
Except for the short heels, the rest of her body was nude. His teeth slashed into a wicked grin when their gazes collided. "Leave them on."
Azriel leaned closer, shifting his palms along her velvety thigh to the back of her knees. The slight brush there jolted her. Interesting. For another time.
With a smug smile, he grasped one of Gwyn's legs behind the knee. Careful of his wings, he placed it over his shoulder, his mouth inches away from paradise. The sight alone was already causing her breathing to become ragged. A nearly fully clothed shadowsinger genuflected before a goddess just waiting for a taste. Requesting permission.
Gwyn guided him to her. He obeyed.
With the first tease on her sex, she cried out hoarsely. Gwyn was hot and slick as he sucked and licked between her thighs. Her little clit was a stiff peak on his tongue, pinched between his teeth. Sweeping clean down her center, Azriel struck her warm core. She broke into pant as he slipped into her with his tongue, enjoying every tug of her eager body already. Gods, she was so very wet. Which was a good thing because his dick was so incredibly hard.
He slid a finger inside her opening, pumping as he tasted her in broad strokes. In ecstasy, her copper hair tossed back and forth as she murmured above him. He slid in a second. Her sudden yelp surprised him. But with Gwyn's incessant pressure on the back of his head, he proceeded.
Gnashing his teeth, he dug deeper. Slower and harder. Her tight body clenching around him, riding him. Begging for release.
"Azriel," she pleaded needily.
"Let go, sweetheart."
The gods heard her scream as Gwyn gripped his hair to the point of pain and poured her desire onto him as she broke apart. Trembled against his mouth in satisfaction. Scraped his shoulder blade with the heel of her shoe.
His lips brushed her beautiful sex one more time as he withdrew. Kissing the inside of her knee as he set her leg down, he stood tall. Azriel leaned into her, his cock straining against her stomach as he folded an arm around her waist. Nuzzling into her collar, he kissed her thundering pulse.
"Are you ready for me, Gwyneth?"
Gwyn's body was still shaking from the most intense orgasm of her life when Azriel rose before her, his lips glistening. The sight made her breath hitch. But then he'd licked those full lips, tasting her, and her damn knees nearly gave out.
Emboldened, she cupped his hard erection through his trousers. When she rubbed the heel of her hand against him, he hissed in pleasure. He propelled his hips against her, seeking the same friction she had. Again, she wanted.
"Yes, Azriel. I'm ready."
"Then get me out of my damn clothes," he grunted, raven-colored hair falling forward as he peered down at her ministrations.
Gladly. Gwyn tore her hand away and undid the remaining buttons on his shirt, wrangling the sleeves off until he stood before her in his tattooed, muscled glory. All of which her hands craved to touch and knead. To scratch and mark. To make hers.
His abdominal muscles twitched as Gwyn's fingernails flew to his waistband, where she made quick work of the fasteners. Even Gwyn was impressed by how quickly she stripped the Illyrian warrior naked.
Her mouth went dry and her core molten as she took him in. Gods, she forgot how striking he was. Savage seduction at its finest.
Azriel hummed his approval, his teeth dragging over his lower lip.
"How will we do this, Berdara? What position do you want to take?"
Fuck, Gwyn thought as she rubbed her thighs together. The tension in the air made her uneasy. Somehow, she had to break it.
"Take a position? Are we treating this like a battle, Shadowsinger?" He shot her a pointed look that diminished as soon as he gripped his cock. Gwyn watched enraptured at the way Azriel stroked himself. Moisture beaded, spread across the broad head with his thumb. All she wanted was to take over. To take him in her mouth as far as possible. "I…"
His deep groan made wetness drip down her thigh.
"If you're on top, Gwyn, you have more control."
True. But… Gwyn also was an impatient nymph. Her mind was racing as she contemplated taking her time or if she would spoil the evening by hurting herself. Azriel was more experienced, knew how to handle himself—clearly. Besides, she knew if she wanted to stop, Azriel would.
"I'd like to be under you this time, Az. If that's okay."
At the words, his head kicked back, and his mouth parted. "More than okay."
Azriel released his erection and strode forward. As his mouth met hers, his hands grasped for his waist. The kiss was a slow temptation, sipping from her lips like she was his favorite whiskey.
The backs of her knees abruptly struck the mattress. His hand lightly pressed on her chest, easing her to fall. Then Gwyn scooted upwards until her hair swept against the silky pillows. She watched with a racing heart as Azriel prowled up her body. Their chests were touching as he rested on his forearms above her.
Her arms enfolded his broad, tan shoulders as his knee came between hers. She struggled to swallow.
"Gwyn," he rasped her name. "You still want this?"
Smiling, she nodded. "For such a reputation, Azriel, you are a closeted gentleman."
Azriel searched her eyes, and she spread her thighs, cradling him with her legs. As he settled against her, her chest trembled. Everything hard on him found everything soft of her.
His hips dropped further into hers as he grinned proudly. Gwyn's gasp was as sudden as his erection bumped her clit and slid between her damp folds as he set into an undulating grind. Each pass, each drag over the sensitive bud, provoked a needy moan. Gazing down, Gwyn watched as his massive cock glistened with her.
"I forgot you like watching," Azriel said, his warm breath tickling her ear.
"Yes, I do." She mewled as it hit that spot again. "This feels really good."
"Good. You like the way my cock is coated in you, Gwyneth?" He drove again, grinding until their intense gasps and grunts harmonized. "You're so fucking warm and slick. So fucking perfect against me. And so ready for me."
"I am." And she truly was.
Azriel paused, bracing himself on one arm so he could take her hand with the other. A hand which he guided lower. Lower. Stopping along the way to rub playfully at her clit with a wink. He wrapped her fingers around his hard, thick flesh. And then, together, they positioned him at her tender opening. Looking into her eyes, he kissed her forehead before leaning his against hers.
"I'm nervous," she admitted and hated doing so.
"Me too."
She nearly laughed at the lie. How could he be nervous?
"It's your call. Your move, Gwyn."
"I'm not surprised," she said, her hand shaking around him. "You always wait for the opponent to make a move."
His chuckle turned into a gruff groan as she inserted the tip inside. They were both frozen, their breaths mingling.
"Just in case I need to clarify," Gwyn said shakily, around a gulp. "That was the first move. Your turn."
After taking a breath, Azriel kissed her nose. "We'll go slow, all right? Remember what I said before. This stops whenever. And you need to tell me how you are feeling."
Gwyn nodded as she draped her hands around his shoulders. The firm muscles under her palms flexed as he finally moved.
Azriel pushed into her and rocked back, leaving Gwyn to whimper in desire and distress. Stilling before each gradual, intense thrust and withdrawal. Her fingernails gouged into his skin. To focus, she closed her eyes. Azriel's fingers were undoubtedly thicker than her own, but this—there was no preparing for this . Gods, the pressure was tremendous. And he wasn't even halfway in. Cauldron, help her.
The more he sank, the more he cursed under his breath. Breathe, Berdara. In with his retreats. Out with his penetrations. In. Out. In. Out.
"Gwyn?" The shadowsinger halted, his hardness throbbing inside her. When she opened her eyes, she found him full of alarmed confusion. "Are you okay? Are you mind-stilling?"
"Um…." Shit, that's exactly what Gwyn had been doing. "Yes?" He slid his hips back. " No. Please, don't stop, Azriel. I'm just a little overwhelmed. I'm okay, I swear."
She gently kissed his frown away and then kissed Az some more just because. Reclining her head back on the pillow, she shut her eyes.
"Eyes on me, Gwyn."
On command, she opened and found his rich hazel swirling with heat. With lust. With love. Push and retreat. Inch by inch. Her body stretched around him. An odd aching discomfort accompanied the chorus of pleasure.
"Gwyn, you need to relax," Az gritted out between clenched teeth. "Just try to relax."
He watched her, every slight reaction. Scrutinized every whimper and high-pitched sound, every flinch and sharp exclamation she made.
"I need you to touch yourself, sweetheart."
His request caught her off-guard. Touch herself? Now? But her hand was already sliding down between them. Azriel took his time. Each languid plunge followed with a gradual, sweeping egress as she stroked and flicked. Little by little, egregiously slow, until somehow his hips met hers.
A shudder ran over him as he let out a long, long breath. Tension bracketed his mouth and eyes. Azriel's biceps bulged and trembled under her coasting fingers. Proof he was restraining himself as he allowed her to adjust. Held back how he wanted to rut into her. In a wide smile, Gwyn pulled down his head and kissed and kissed. With each press of their lips and slide of their tongues, the stiffness eased. They gasped into each other as her hips rolled.
"Fuck. I don't want to move until you're ready," Azriel said, his lips exploring hers again before he continued.
"I'm ready, Shadowsinger."
Without looking away, Azriel drew his hips back and thrust in with a single motion. Gwyn's keen moan rattled her insides as she embraced the sensations as he moved. The fullness. The strength of his body over hers. In her. The deep sounds emanating from his throat. The force with every plunge. The drag and stretch. The feel of his warm cock against the back of her hand. The way his wings flexed and loosened with every advance. The give and take as her hips pushed against his on instinct.
The sweetest ache built between Gwyn's legs as their tempo increased to urgent. The strangled groans of their eagerness grew louder and louder. The desperate cries of their desire filled the air. In the heat, her breathless pants reminded her of climbing up Ramiel.
Hands falling away, she fisted obsidian sheets. He didn't break his pace as he slid his arm under her knee.
"Oh gods," she sobbed as the new angle took him deeper, touching a buried, untouched part. "So good. Azriel, I'm close."
The coiling in her belly tightened and tightened. At the summit of the mystical mountain, three stars glistened above her. His heart was among them.
"Gwyn, fuck! " His pace slowed. "I'm close. Do you want me to…"
"Keep going, Az! Oh please, don't stop!"
"Then come on my cock, sweetheart," Azriel gritted out, speeding up. His frantic thrusts echoed the loud swearing under his breath.
His sinful words sent her tumbling over the edge. Gwyn was falling with only him to cling to. When she screamed his name, Azriel followed her over. His hips stuttered and stilled, his release spilling inside her as he grunted into the crook of her neck. His magnificent wings quaked and tucked in tight against his back.
As he collapsed over her, nothing else mattered. It was only Azriel and Gwyn—the mighty shadowsinger and the satiated Valkyrie and their pounding hearts. Cedar and mist of his mighty body enveloped her body, soothed her. His wings provided a blanket of comfort around them. And when the two of them had recovered their breath, Az carefully rolled onto his back, with her on top of him.
Gwyn's body trembled, a mixture of pleasure and clarity. Of healing and revelation. Suddenly overcome, tears streamed down her glowing cheeks. He took her face between his scarred palms, kissing her affectionately.
"Gwyn, what's going on," Azriel whispered, his breaths puffing against her swollen lips, their chests flush and sticky with sweat. "Remember, you promised. Talk to me."
"I…," Gwyn swallowed the lump in her throat. She thought about saying something to lighten the mood, to keep the pleasant, languid haze they were living in, but that wasn't fair. Azriel wanted her truth and she—she wanted all of him. All of this male who had given her everything. "I did it. And it felt good. It—it didn't hurt."
He rubbed his nose against hers. "It's not supposed to, sweetheart."
"I know…" She sat up in his lap.
"From your very un-priestess like filthy smut books," he teased. A throaty chuckle broke through her sadness.
"I just never thought sex could be like this…" For me. "That maybe I was... ruined."
Azriel exhaled, shaking. He lifted his head, slanted her face down to look at him. One hand drifted to her nape, the other in her hair. Her eyes were caught in his greenish-brown, and he wasn't letting her go.
"You are not ruined... and you deserve everything, Gwyneth Berdara. I hope this was—what we—" An adorable blush rose to his cheeks as he cleared his throat.
Gwyn silenced him with her lips. "It was perfect, Azriel. Absolutely fucking perfect." Another kiss. "Thank you, Shadowsinger."
He shook his head.
"Thank you for choosing me," Azriel said in a small voice. Gwyn's heart squeezed. She drew him to her chest, pressing his ear to her heart. His arms tightly wrapped around her torso as he held on for dear life. She ran her fingers through his onyx hair, as their breathing evened out, as he was still inside of her. They were still joined.
While she kissed the crown of his head, her hands slid from his hair to his neck, rubbing the tension away with her fingers. Az pressed his lips against the soft swell of her breast, flicking his tongue briefly against her sensitive flesh. Her hands glided down to his powerful shoulder, rubbing and scraping.
Azriel gave a throaty groan as his head dipped lower, his tongue laving the turgid peak. Nipping. Sucking. The heat pooled low as her hips shifted, drawing out moans and whimpers from Gwyn. Inside of her, he hardened again.
"Azriel," she breathed.
"Yes, Gwyn" he replied against her skin.
"Can we do it... again?"
I hope this lived up to expectations of their first time. LOL! I was sick all weekend (fun times), so writing was slow going. Better now though, so I hope to get started on the next chapter tomorrow and the teaser up on Tumblr this weekend!