POV: Alina
He backed her into the counter, getting closer step by step until his face hovered mere inches from hers. He braced his arms on the counter on each side of her hips, barely missing the edges of her wings. Her core had turned molten and she felt like she could barely breathe.
"I didn't think you were from here. I've never met a woman like you before."
She didn't dare move a muscle as small tendrils of shadow poured out from his fingertips and caressed her. This time was different than before – not the inky blackness that had suffocated her and fed her terror, but instead comforting, warm. Slowly they coiled in the air around her, a delicate whisper on her skin like phantom fingers. Tentatively they receded away, as if they had wanted to explore her but not overwhelm her. As if they had been seeking permission. Azriel lowered his head until she felt the ghost of his lips on the soft curve of her neck.
"Do you want me to stop?" He rumbled, the feel of his breath against her skin sending a shiver down her spine. She should tell him to stop, damn it; her mind and her instincts were screaming at her to tell him to stop and get out of her house. But as his lips parted and his tongue grazed her skin, the full weight of how much she wanted him to keep going hit her. She wanted this. She wanted him. He was an endless night sky, and she was completely lost in it. She pulled away enough to look into the hazel eyes that had haunted her memories for so long.
"No," she breathed. For just an instant he stood there unmoving, even his shadows seeming to halt midair around him. The next, his lips were crashing on hers. The kiss was hungry and hurried; his teeth grazed her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth to him further. A deep, satisfied growl sounded from him as his tongue danced against hers. Her knees wobbled, and she mentally thanked the gods she was braced against the counter. In her five centuries of existence, she had kissed only a handful of males and gone further with even less of them, but none had ever felt like this. There had been a handful of years a long, long time ago, when her guilt and grief and loneliness had gotten the best of her, and she'd found herself turning to drinks and the attention of other males to get her mind off of it. It was not a time of her life that she was proud of, but still she forced herself to remember the dark place she had been in if only to remind herself of the strength she'd had in pulling herself out.
Everywhere he touched her was fire, was a shot of lightening straight to her core. None of it was enough. The way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way his hair felt as she wrapped her arm around his neck and ran her fingers through it... It was intoxicating. A broad hand wrapped around her bare thigh as he ground his hips against hers. She couldn't help the gasp that slipped from her as he hoisted her up onto the counter and wrapped her legs around him. Her wings sent the cups and bowls that had been sitting there tumbling to the ground, but neither one of them paid any attention. Azriel kissed her so deeply, so thoroughly, that Alina realized she'd been forgetting to breathe. She ripped her mouth away for air but kept her hands planted in his hair as he trailed kisses down her neck and over her collarbone. His hands roamed up, up, up, until he was gripping the soft underside of her breasts over her nightshirt.
"Oh," Alina gasped as he ran his thumbs over her hardened nipples. He ground his hips into her again, and she arched her back as she felt his hardened erection against her. His hand travelled down her side, so slowly that it hurt, until he reached the bunched up edge of her nightshirt. Again he paused and looked up at her, brows raised in a silent request for permission. She was desperate for the release and the friction, but more than anything she was desperate for him. For so much of her life, she had known who he was but had chosen to respectfully stay away, wanting him to find a life and happiness that wasn't affected by her. Maybe a part of her had always believed he was better off without her. Regardless, he had found her now, and she would take whatever he gave her. She nodded, knowing that they were crossing a line that could not be taken back.
His thumb dipped below her shirt and slowly – too slowly - slipped between her folds.
"Fuck," Azriel groaned as he continued to run his thumb up and down, each time coming back to slowly circle her clit. Every touch was electric.
"You're so wet." He dipped his thumb inside her, pulsing to the same rhythm of his hips, and pulled it out again with a soft pop. To her horror and utter mortification, he brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked. For just a moment, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and sounded a moan so deep and sensual that it unhinged her. Alina thought she could have come right then and there just by the sight of it. With his eyes locked on hers, he brought his thumb back down to her sensitive nub and began working it in tight circles. She grabbed his shirt to pull him closer, but with his other hand he swatted hers away and pinned it against the counter.
"No," he growled. "I want to watch you."
Gods.
He continued stroking her clit, steadily rising in speed. His piercing gaze cleaved her open, and she arched her back again, knowing he was drinking in her every move. The pressure was building now, and she had to brace both hands against the counter to keep herself from grabbing on to him. Her breathing became ragged. Further and further she climbed, and when she watched him slowly insert a finger into her while still holding unbreakable eye contact, she shattered completely. In her climax she moaned his name, and he said hers back like a prayer on his lips. He gave her the time she needed to come back down, folding her shirt back in place and holding her legs around his hips until she was ready to stand. Wordlessly, he helped her down off the counter.
"Alina –" He started but paused mid-sentence, taken back by the sight in front of him. There on the wooden counter surface where she had been just moments before were black hand-shaped burns that still sizzled like the embers of a fire. Smoke rolled off them in small coils that dissolved into the air.
The heat. The lack of fireplace. And now, the counter. They stood in silence, Azriel looking between the burnt surface and her hands, no doubt piecing together that she has yet another unique power quite literally at her fingertips.
"Creating light isn't the only magical ability you have, is it?" Alina turned away, angry at herself and her lack of self-control. She could level entire cities, entire army with her fire. She could shape her flames into dazzling flowers or birds or butterflies made of heat and light and watch them float away on the wind until they turned to ash. She could light a whole forest on fire, watch as the flames erupt into the sky, and then silence them into nothing without so much as a fallen leaf or burnt strip of bark. But at Azriel's touch she'd become so unraveled that she couldn't even stop herself from burning the furniture she sat on?
"No," she said, looking back over her shoulder and wondering how she had gotten herself in this situation. "It isn't."
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Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this little smutty baby chapter :)
P.S. I solemnly swear to never use the words "velvet wrapped steel"
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A Court of Light and Fire
FanfictionAzriel always considered himself more powerful than most: a shadowsinger with seven deadly siphons at his disposal and an equally deadly group of friends. But, everything he thought he knew about power was challenged the day he met his complete and...