But it wasn’t enough.
Alōs wanted her panting, soaring, as untethered as she made others feel when she danced. He wanted to give her the crazed euphoria that she gave to her audience—that she gave to him.
Her continuous rocking against his cock sent more madness through him, his control breaking. Gathering Niya up in his arms, he brought them to her bed.
She lay sprawled over the soft sheets as he stood above her, her robe open, displaying her pale skin, the fullness of her breasts. His gaze dipped to the patch of red hair between her legs, his entire being alight with all the things he wished to do to her.
Niya’s eyes were glassy as they looked up at him, yearning, wanting.
Yet this time, he felt not like the hunter but like her willing prey.
He would not touch her again, not without her command.
A spark appeared in Niya’s gaze, as if she understood this, for she finally demanded, “Touch me.”
“Where?” His voice came out a husky whisper.
Alōs watched as her bold, magnificent hands ran down to her most sacred of places, through her curls of red. “Here.”
Alōs was on his knees instantly.
He glided his fingers up her inner thighs, savoring the softness before spreading her open. He paused for one aching moment, his eyes meeting hers over the hills of her breasts.
“Yes,” breathed Niya. “There.”
His mouth was upon her.
“Alōs,” she groaned, raking hands through his hair. She kept him right where she wanted him, needed him.
He was drunk on the taste of her, on the warmth flooding through his veins, as her magic filled the room, fogging the mirrors. And though Alōs could, he did not fight her energy with his own. He settled into it, letting it melt away his walls.
Niya thrashed under his ministrations, rocking against him.
He kept steady, focused, as he slipped a finger in.
With a cry, Niya arched up, her body shivering, before she settled back into the sheets, satiated.
Alōs knelt back, unable to do anything but stare.
Niya was glowing, resplendent in her relaxed state. And he had done this to her. No longer was she coiled and fortified behind her hate for him but spread out, open.
Slowly her head rolled to the side; her blue eyes found his.
They were filled with something he could not read.
“Come here,” she said, extending a hand.
Alōs quickly unbuckled his sword’s sheath and kicked off his boots before lying beside her. Niya started on his buttons. Alōs kept perfectly still as she slid the material away; her palm smoothed over his chest, down his abs, before slipping beneath his trousers.
He closed his eyes with a groan as she gripped him, running her hand up and down his length. Still he did not move.
“Such restraint,” Niya teased.
He looked at her, only truth in his next words. “I am yours to command.”
A flash of something dark fell across her features, but then it was gone. “Do you want me?” she asked.
The question startled him, given she held the proof of how much he wanted her. But then he realized this question was a test. It made him feel uneasy at just how desperately he wanted to pass. “I want whatever you are willing to share.”
She studied him a long moment as she continued to caress him. He felt his restraint fissure. His body was boiling for her, to take, consume, have. But this was exactly what she was waiting for, expecting, and what he had to prove he would not do. He would no longer take anything from her, especially not this.
“I want you to show me how much you want me,” said Niya.
It was all Alōs needed to hear.
He bent to claim her mouth and then licked along her neck, pleased with the goose bumps that rose on her skin, the sigh that escaped her lips.
She began to tug at his trousers, almost impatient, and he chuckled, helping.
As he freed himself, lying naked before her, a satisfied purr came from her lips, her eyes hungry as they perused his body.
Her magic reached for him, red tendrils of smoke caressing his skin. Mine, it seemed to whisper, and Alōs couldn’t help grinning, thinking the same as he beheld Niya.
Mine.
Settling on top of her, Alōs was drunk on the way her skin felt against his. She was a warm blanket of silk, of temptation, and she was giving herself to him. Trusting him. If only for tonight.
The thought made him want to savor every grain fall. Capture every moment, sound, and graze in his memory.
He cupped her breasts, taking one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking as they began to grind against each other.
Niya was wet and needing, and he felt crazed with the knowledge.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”
Alōs held her gaze and slipped himself inside her. They both moaned, foreheads touching.
He held steady for a moment, savoring her heat and the way she fit around him.
“Alōs.” Niya squirmed, restless.
“Easy, my fire.” He captured one of her wrists, pinning it to the mattress. “You told me to show you how much I want you, and I shall, but I intend to be thorough in my demonstration.”
He kissed her full lips, swallowing her cry as he began to slowly move his hips, going as deep as he dared.
“Yes.” Niya turned her head to gasp. “Yes.”
Alōs created a rhythm that Niya quickly matched, their bodies dancing, a gathering of tension.
Before either of them lost themselves too soon, Alōs rose, sitting back on his heels. He tugged Niya by the waist to settle her exactly where she needed to be around his hips. He wanted to see her fully, watch as he slipped back into her.
Her blue eyes were the stars during the darkest night at sea. Bright, guiding, home.
“By the lost gods,” he moaned as he filled her, over and over, his body shivering around her warmth.
Niya cried out with her own desire, her head rolling to the side.
Her hair was a fan of red on the sheets, her cheeks a rosy glow.
Alōs pulled her hands toward him, which angled her breasts high. They were full and perfect as they moved with every one of his thrusts.
He was lost in her.
Ruined by her.
Though they had slept together before, this was nothing like then. Not to him. Then, Alōs had been thoroughly untouchable, young and filled with anger at the world’s injustice. He had been concentrated only on his task, what he needed from Niya—her identity—and what he would gain: unmeasurable leverage. He had not allowed himself to properly be in the moment. Though he had made sure to please her, to Alōs it had been a night of scheming with an added bonus.
But now . . . now, each of Niya’s moans shattered the ice casing around his heart.
He wanted to decimate that young man of the past.
As Niya preened under his touches, the red haze of her magic radiating from her skin like a flower in bloom, her supple curves there to study, to devour, he realized that nothing about her should ever have been taken for granted.
Niya pulled herself up, straddling him so Alōs lay on his back.
He became entranced as she rode him.
Her breasts jutted forward; her ruby locks cascaded down her back; her hips flared deliciously wide as she moved.
She was magnificent.
She was commanding.
She was a queen.
His queen.
The thought momentarily stunned him.
But Alōs drowned whatever fears were creeping into his mind by tugging Niya down for a kiss. He lost himself in her thoroughly. Spun dizzy with his desire.
They were sin this night, carnality finally giving in.
Alōs was changing by the grain fall, had changed, and it was all thanks to the woman in his arms. He wanted to be better, wanted to be what she needed. He wanted one of the most powerful creatures in Aadilor to need him, and not because she was bound by a bargain but because her desire wouldn’t have it any other way.
With this new goal burning, Alōs sought to bring Niya to new heights, to awaken every thread of her pleasure. He wanted to tie her euphoria so tightly to himself that no other being would satiate her.