Chapter 85 Mark
[Nyx]
"I promised..." My voice came out breathier than I'd intended. "If you were faithful, I would... use my mouth."
"Good girl."
His free hand moved to the waistband. Slowly pulled the pants down.
His cock sprang free—already hard, already leaking.
"Open."
I did.
---
I'd never done this before.
Not in any of my drunken hookups. Not in those blurry nights I barely remembered.
This was new. Intimate. Terrifying.
But I'd made a promise.
And Lysander had kept his end of the bargain.
So I leaned forward. Took him into my mouth.
The taste was strange—salt and musk and something distinctly him. The texture alien against my tongue.
"Fuck." His hand tightened in my hair. "Just like that. Slowly."
I followed his guidance. Took him deeper. My jaw stretched to accommodate him, throat working to suppress the gag reflex.
"Use your tongue." His voice was strained now. "Swirl it around the head—yes, fuck, just like that."
I found a rhythm. In and out. My hand wrapped around what wouldn't fit in my mouth, stroking in time with my movements.
His breathing grew ragged. Hips starting to move—small, restrained thrusts.
"I'm close." The words came out rough. "You can stop if—"
I didn't stop.
I wanted this. Wanted to give him this.
Wanted to see him lose control.
He came with a growl—low and feral. His cock pulsed against my tongue, spilling heat down my throat.
I swallowed. Licked him clean.
When I pulled back, his eyes were molten gold.
"My turn."
---
He hauled me up. Carried me to the bed. Laid me out on those white sheets like an offering.
Then he knelt between my thighs.
"Lysander—"
"Fair is fair." His breath was hot against my inner thigh. "I got mine. Now you get yours."
His mouth descended.
And oh, God.
His tongue was everywhere—licking, sucking, circling that sensitive bundle of nerves until I was writhing beneath him.
"Stay still." One hand pressed down on my lower belly, holding me in place. "Let me taste you properly."
I whimpered. Fisted my hands in the sheets.
He worked me methodically. Building the pleasure in waves—bringing me right to the edge, then pulling back. Over and over until I was sobbing with need.
"Please." I didn't recognize my own voice. "Lysander, please—"
Two fingers slid inside me. Curled. Found that spot that made stars explode behind my eyelids.
I came apart with a cry.
He didn't stop. Just kept going—fingers pumping, tongue lashing—until I came again. And again.
When he finally pulled back, his face was wet with me. Lips swollen. Eyes feral.
"Turn over."
---
I obeyed on trembling limbs.
He positioned me on hands and knees. Spread my thighs wider.
The blunt head of his cock pressed against my entrance.
"Ready?"
I nodded.
He pushed in slowly. So slowly. Stretching me. Filling me.
When he was fully seated, we both groaned.
"You're so tight." His hands gripped my hips. "So fucking perfect."
He started to move. Long, deep strokes that had me gasping. The angle was different like this—deeper. More intense.
"Harder." I pushed back against him. "Please, harder—"
He complied. The rhythm turned rough. Primal. The bed frame creaked with each thrust.
One hand slid up my spine. Fisted in my hair. Pulled my head back.
"Mine." The word came out as a growl. "Say it."
"Yours." I could barely form words. "I'm yours."
"Louder."
"I'm yours!"
That seemed to break something in him. The last threads of his control snapping.
He pounded into me. Relentless. Claiming.
I felt it building again—that impossible pressure. Coiling tighter and tighter.
"Nyx." His voice was ragged. Desperate. "Mark me."
My wolf surged forward. Fangs elongating.
"Only if you mark me too."
"Together?"
"Together."
His arm came around, pulling me up against his chest. Still buried deep inside me.
We turned our heads at the same moment.
Found the junction of neck and shoulder.
Bit down.
---
Pain.
Searing, white-hot pain.
Then heat.
Then something else entirely.
A connection.
Like a golden thread suddenly snapping into place between us. Linking our souls. Our wolves. Our very essences.
I could feel him. His pleasure. His possessiveness. His overwhelming love.
And he could feel me. My trust. My surrender. My acceptance.
The sensation was too much. Too intense.
We came togeter—howling our release into each other's flesh.
His cock pulsed inside me, spilling heat. My inner walls clenched around him, milking every drop.
The marks on our skin began to glow. Faint silver light that pulsed in time with our racing hearts.
Mine. Mate. Forever.
The thought echoed through both our minds.
Impossible to tell where mine ended and his began.
---
We collapsed onto the bed. Still connected. Still trembling.
Lysander's tongue lapped at the mark on my shoulder, sealing it. I did the same to his arm.
The wounds would heal quickly. But the marks would remain.
Permanent. Undeniable.
Proof of our bond.
He shifted us carefully—withdrawing from my body, rolling us onto our sides. Pulling me against his chest.
"You're mine now." His lips brushed my temple. "Completely."
I nodded. Too overwhelmed to speak.
Through the new bond, I felt everything. His satisfaction. His fierce protectiveness. His joy.
And beneath it all—that steady, unwavering love he'd carried for thirteen years.
How did I not see it?
How did I not feel it until now?
"Sleep." His hand stroked down my spine. "I've got you."
The bond pulsed between us. Warm. Secure. Unbreakable.
Tomorrow, there would be more battles. Lilith's recovery. Selene's trial. The inevitable political fallout.
But tonight...
Tonight I was safe. Protected. Loved.
And for the first time in years, that was enough.