Chapter 16 - Avianna -
\-Avianna-
He carries me to the bed, sitting heavily against the headboard, his legs extended on either side of my hips. He doesn't pull me into his lap, instead, he positions me in the V of his thighs. It’s a careful, deliberate distance. My back is pressed to the solid wall of his chest, but he’s holding himself rigid, every muscle locked down to keep from grinding himself against me.
But I can feel him. All of him.
I can feel the heavy thud of his heart hammering against my spine, the way his breath stutters every time I shift, and through the tether, we’re both drowning. His breath is ragged against my ear, harsh and uneven, but he holds me steady. The heat is a living thing now, clawing at my insides, desperate and confused. I squirm against him, seeking a relief I don’t know how to find, a whimper catching in my throat.
"Caylix, please." I’m crying now, hot tears tracking down my cheeks that do nothing to cool the fire beneath my skin. "I don't know what to do. Make it stop. Help me."
He goes rigid behind me. For a heartbeat, the only sound in the room is the ragged roar of our breathing.
"You know what this is?" he asks, his voice a low, dark rumble I feel through my spine more than I hear.
"No," I gasp, my head falling back against his shoulder as another wave rolls through me, making my thighs clench instinctively. "It hurts. I feel like I'm going to die if it doesn't stop."
"It won't kill you," he says, the words strained. "But the heat... it’s not just pain, Avi. It’s a lust hex. It’s forcing your body to crave a specific kind of release."
The word hangs in the air, heavy and terrifying.
“Release,” I repeat, the sound trembling on my lips. The heat spikes at the mere mention of it, a punishing throb between my thighs that makes me cry out. “How? Caylix, I don’t... I don’t know how to make it stop.”
He exhales sharply. I feel him shifting behind me, the hard lines of his body bowing under the weight of his own restraint. The tether is a chaotic storm, I feel his war, the crushing guilt warring with the dark, possessive instinct to take over, to tear the rest of the world apart until there is only me.
"Please," I beg, the word dissolving into a sob as another wave crashes through me. My body bows off the mattress, my back arching against the hard plane of his chest. The friction of the linen beneath my legs is torture, the air too thick to breathe. "I can't... It is too much. Caylix, please, just do something."
"Shh." His voice is ragged, barely recognizable. His arm tightens around me like he’s holding himself together by force alone. “I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m not letting this consume you.”
He forces space between us despite the way my body instinctively reaches for him. The distance is barely there, only inches, but I feel the cost of it through the tether like something tearing beneath his skin. Every instinct in him is screaming to pull me closer, yet he holds the line with brutal control. He would set himself on fire before he dishonored me, especially while the hex clouds my judgment.
"I can't touch you," he forces out, the words sounding like they’re being dragged from his throat. "Not like this. Not while you're... not while we're like this. It wouldn't be you, Avi. It would be the hex."
He adjusts his grip on me, his large hands spanning my waist, pulling me back tighter against the solid heat of his chest. He is trembling, the tremor running through his arms and vibrating directly into my spine.
"But I can guide you," he says, his voice dropping to a rough murmur against my ear. "You need release. The hex demands it. The only way to break the cycle is to give your body what it wants."
His chest heaves against my back, a rhythm that matches my own chaotic breaths. "I'm going to help you. I promise. But I need you to breathe."
I try to obey, but the air catches in my throat, turning into a ragged whimper. The heat is relentless, a heavy, pulsing weight between my thighs that makes my entire body tremble. I feel empty in a way that physically hurts, a hollow ache that demands to be filled.
His hands move to around my waist, the contact is searing, even through the haze of the hex. I can feel the calluses on his palms, the rough strength in his fingers, and the way he is shaking, just slightly, as he forces himself to keep his control.
"I can't," I sob, my hands clutching desperately at his forearm where it bands around my middle. "Caylix, please, it's…”
"I know," he breathes, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below my ear. "I've got you. Trust me."
His other hand slides from my waist, trailing a path of fire down the outside of my thigh. I gasp at the contact, my hips jerking instinctively, but he holds me firm, his grip unyielding. He hooks his hand beneath my knee, his fingers digging into the soft skin there, and lifts.
He guides my leg outward, draping it over his heavy outstretched thigh. The position leaves me exposed, the cool air of the room doing nothing to soothe the fever raging beneath my skin. Before I can process it fully, his other hand moves to my remaining knee, repeating the motion, lifting and spreading me until I’m completely open.
The vulnerability of it hits me like a physical blow. Through the tether, I feel the moment his control frays, a jagged spike of pure, possessive hunger that tears through him before he ruthlessly suppresses it.
"Caylix," I whisper, my voice shaking, humiliation and need at war in my chest. "I... I can't do this. I don't know how."
"Breathe," he commands, though the command is ragged, wrecked. "Just breathe."
I feel the tension in his thighs against the backs of my legs. He is holding his own legs apart, forcing mine wider with the leverage.
"Feel what I am going to show you. Let it take you, Avi. Give in to it,” he breathes, his chest heaving against my back.
The command is thick with promise and desperation. I feel the truth of it vibrating through the tether, his absolute focus, his resolve to see me through this even as it tears him apart.
"I will," I gasp, the words barely recognizable through my shallow breaths. "I trust you. Please, just... show me."
His hand leaves my knee, sliding slowly up the trembling length of my inner thigh. My muscles jump beneath his touch, the skin hypersensitive, every nerve ending screaming for more. I arch my back, a broken sound tearing from my throat as his knuckles graze the soft, soaking curls at the apex of my thighs.