A Soul to Revive (Duskwalker Brides, #5)

She considered letting go to free it, but decided against it.

Right now, he was hard, which meant he was horny. She’d gotten him to this point, and it would be safer to finish him off if she didn’t want him thinking he could use it on her.

Her lips tightened and turned downwards. Yet, they relaxed at Ingram’s quick huffs of pleasure, and the low groan he gave when a bubble of precum welled at the very tip.

His cock now felt hot, slick, and swollen. It was beginning to repeatedly thicken in her hands before going down, like his pulsating was much stronger than a human’s.

Gods, she just wanted this over with. She felt as though she was milking him like a cow.

Emerie stroked faster, frantically. Anything to get this Duskwalker to finish so she could stop fondling his weird, freaky privates. I’ve totally lost it.

Ingram let out an acute whine, and she slowed.

“Fuck. Did I hurt you?”

“Don’t stop.” He tried to buck into her hands but was barely able to move an inch. His chest pumped in and out with quick, excited huffs. “Feels good.”

“Okay. Feels good is good.” What was she even saying right now?

However, she should have taken that whine as the warning it was. Especially when he tensed up, released another one, and then completely froze.

She had just enough time to stand up to avoid being drenched in the first rope of semen that spurted from him, just as he let out a mangled yell. She continued to stroke him, letting him spill against the ground between her feet, while she tried not to gawk at just how much came out of him.

She even had to spread her legs to avoid the growing puddle threatening to touch her boots.

Her hands were so wet now that they squelched even louder, and she only stopped working his cock when it had been a few seconds of nothing else coming out of him.

I milked him dry. Oh god, I milked a Duskwalker’s balls dry. I’m insane. This is insane.

She finally let go and threw her hands up in the air. Backing up like it was a rabid beast, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do now. Do I try to shove it back inside? She doubted that would work; it’d likely just flop back out.

She glanced at his face and took in the fact his orbs were a deep purple. He looked like a lump as he panted, little twitches visibly dancing across his body, like he was assaulted with aftershocks from his release.

“Are-are you calm now?”

“Y...es,” he rasped out, his voice laden with satisfaction.

“If I let you go, will you promise not to hurt me?”

She liked that he didn’t seem to lie about promises and was pretty sincere in keeping them.

“Promise.”

Emerie bounced forward and quickly cut him free so that his body would no longer be arched. She checked back to make sure his dick went back inside and was relieved when it did – although messily and slowly.

Emerie removed every bit of rope from him, including the one around his beak. Then she put space between them and placed her hands upon her face.

Eww! She smeared weird lubricant on her cheek and lips. It was what finally sent her over the edge into full-blown panic.

I’m trembling, she thought as she pulled them away to look at her palms shaking before her. I never tremble.

Tears welled in her eyes as her breathing sawed in and out of her. When she tried to steady herself with a deep inhale, she let out a pain-filled cry and cupped her aching ribs.

She turned around to lean against a tree. She was moments from hyperventilating from stress and anxiety when Ingram began rising to all fours.

A white fluttering form landing in front of her spooked the crap out of her, making her jump, but her vision was splitting into two. I’m getting dizzy. She needed to breathe. She needed to not feel like her heart was about to give out.

Every breath felt like razors in her lungs, and yet it burned her side. Her fingers were numb, her chest warm, her head fuzzy.

“You ran far. Sorry it took me so long to find you,” the woman who had aided them earlier stated.

Where she had come from, and how she’d fallen from the sky, Emerie didn’t know. Nor did she care right then.

Please, she inwardly cried. Please tell me she didn’t see me jerk him off.

She stumbled to the side to get away from her, from the monster she’d freed. To get away from the insanity of what she’d just done to the Duskwalker, and from the many, many moments – days – leading up to all of this.

“Are you okay?” the woman asked as she approached Emerie. “If you’re injured–”

Emerie smacked her hand away when she placed a caring touch on the back of her shoulder. “I can’t breathe.” She choked as her throat threatened to close. She clutched it, and the wetness of the Duskwalker’s cock lubricant smeared across it, which made everything worse. “I can’t breathe.”

The woman ran in front of her and gripped her shoulders tightly, forcing her to look at her.

“What colour are my eyes?” the woman asked, and Emerie took them in, her blue ones darting back and forth between them.

Somehow, Emerie found their sparkling depths comforting.

“B-brown,” she gasped out.

“The sky?”

She looked up. “B-black.”

“What time of day is it?”

“Night.”

“What is your name?”

“It’s...” She sighed when she was able to take a proper breath. “It’s Emerie.”

With every question and answer, Emerie’s chest loosened a little more.

She chased her breaths, focusing on the woman’s face and how her brown skin was smooth, porcelain, and clean – when she thought it’d be stained in blood. Her brows were high, but gentle in their arches, and her cheeks were strong but feminine. Emerie took in the way the wind made her dark, loose-corkscrew curls dance around her dainty yet commanding features.

Her full lips, with a small amount of pink lightness at the seam, took her attention when the woman tried to breathe with her, for her – to give her a rhythm to match. Emerie appreciated that so much, for someone to just help her exist when she thought she was about to truly give out.

Even the smell of her was calming, heady, and delicate.

She would have blushed, but the woman’s gaze held not an ounce of judgement. It wasn’t often Emerie was clutched by a panic attack, but her mind hadn’t been able to handle how she’d just batted off a monster.

She couldn’t even look at him, shame prickling at her nape.

“Are you hurt?” she asked Emerie when her shoulders relaxed.

“Yes. I think I fractured a rib.”

With a nod, the woman closed her eyes. Black sand and mist glittered between them, but she wouldn’t let Emerie escape when she tried to back up in surprise.

“There,” the woman said once the flutter of magic disappeared. “Is that better?”

Emerie finally took in a breath that didn’t radiate agony around her side. Even the weakness in her arms from holding onto Ingram faded, and she looked her over with a puzzled expression.

She healed me?