Page 108 of Awakened Ash and Alchemy

And between them something pulsed, amplifying every sensation, every emotion, until she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began.

The Claiming.

It wasn’t just magic. It was emotion, flooding them like raging storm of magick-meeting-magick in a way she didn’t comprehend but felt. And even though his touch was new, all of this felt familiar. It was also incredibly freeing.

“You feel this too,” he murmured against her neck as it arched back for him, his fingers tracing over her body, lower to her hips, where his grip was both hungry and worshipful across her skin. “The Claiming.”

“Yes… and no.” Because she also wanted him more.

“Tell me to stop.” His voice was ragged, barely controlled, as his mouth moved against her throat. “Because if you don’t, I won’t be able to.”

But even as he said it, his hands were sliding her bra straps down her shoulders, his mouth hot against her skin, trailing fire down her collarbone.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she breathed.

Zarek’s eyes flashed so bright and hungry at her, only for his mouth to curve before it converged onto her breast. His tongue circled her nipple, and she arched into him with a moan that echoed through the small library. His palms slid over her waist and back, as if reading her like she was a language he’d never spoken but understood.

And maybe that was what the Claiming was all about. Knowing without understanding.

Only it made her more desperate for skin against skin. To feel his broad shoulders. Hard chest. And the scars that told stories she wanted to know.

But this was no time for stories, not when she was struggling for air, feeling the heat radiating from his body.

With hands around her waist, he walked her back to the couch, then gently pushed her down, leaving her to gaze up at this god of fire.

His eyes were so bright she almost felt their touch as they followed his large hands gliding up her thighs. His mouth was everywhere, devouring hers, and when he tore her panties—literally tore them and tossed them to the floor like rags—she should have been shocked.

But all she felt was heat flooding her core.

The tenderness with which he pushed her legs apart. The way his eyes lingered on her sex. “Hmm.” He let out an aroused rumble so deep it might have been a sigh, a prayer, or a moan.

His fingers started exploring, and she could hardly breathe, while her hungry hands traced his muscles, his broad back, and the glorious dominance of his battle-hardened body.

Those beautiful eyes lingered on her skin as he trailed a finger from her jaw, down between her breasts, and then lower, to where heaven had a heartbeat. Her back arched as he played music with his fingers, and her voice sang without a sound.

He came down on top of her, capturing her lips in another kiss so deep it left her whimpering, her pulse pounding in her veins as her limbs trembled from his fingers that dove inside her. She had no choice but to rock against them.

He circled the bundle of nerves with his oh so clever fingers—faster and faster. Until finally, her neck arched, and her back curved and lifted off the couch.

And she shattered. That, somehow, made his needy hunger expand, along with his joy at pleasing her.

It was the Claiming that pulled them together and amplified everything. Every touch, every sensation, and every emotion that she was drowning in ecstasy.

“Zarek—” Her voice broke.

He rose above her like a god of war, breathing hard, and she watched as he undid his trousers, releasing himself.

He was—

Big. Hard. Ready.

“I want to be inside you.” His voice was rough like gravel. His jaw clenched with the effort of holding back. “I want everything. But I don’t want to lose control.”

“It’ll be okay. Just trust it…” It? The Claiming? Or did she need him just as much?

Cupping her head, he kissed her gently this time, softly, as if trying to coax her back from a retreat. It was as if he were trying to tell her things through his touch that he’d never say out loud. The look on his face stole her breath, making her chest ache—all from the power of those intense eyes.

Her hands rested on his carved chest that rose and fell as he breathed without rhythm. Admiring his hard lines. Impossibly broad shoulders. And those biceps she’d love to sink her teeth into.