The Reborn Sovereign of Ruin, Bound by His Star

The word settled between them, putting a final, irreversible mark on a decision Liam had made without his brain’s approval.

Arik moved. One arm slid firmly behind Liam’s back, while the other hooked under his knees. In one fluid motion, Arik lifted him.

Liam made a sound of pure indignation, a choked gasp that was entirely swallowed as he was pulled flush against a solid chest. His hands flew out, bracing against Arik’s shoulders, the fabric of his uniform cool against Liam’s palms. He was being carried. Like a bride. Like a parcel. Like something precious and inconvenient.

"This is undignified," Liam managed, his voice strained as the world tilted.

Arik held him tight. He didn’t even seem to notice the weight. "You’re the one who issued an ultimatum," he murmured, his voice a low vibration against Liam’s ear. "Efficiency is key."

The scent of temple stone and caramel was thick now, a warm, possessive cloud filling Liam’s lungs and short-circuiting his last two working neurons. He could feel the steady, powerful beat of Arik’s heart through his uniform, a rhythm that felt alarmingly in sync with his own frantic pulse. The loose folds of the robe shifted with every step, and Liam became acutely, mortifyingly aware of the slick warmth already coating the inside of his thighs.

Arik carried him through the suite, his footsteps silent on the plush carpeting, and he pushed open the door of the bedroom with his shoulder.

The room was dimmer, lit only by the glow of the city through a large panoramic window. Arik moved to the bed, a massive structure draped in dark silver linens that looked soft and deep enough to drown in. Arik lowered him down slowly until Liam’s back touched the cool, smooth fabric of the duvet.

Liam sank into it, his breath catching. He lay there for a moment, disarmed by the gentleness, his long brown hair fanning out around his head. He watched, his crimson eyes wide, as Arik straightened up.

The alpha’s gaze was fixed on him, molten gold in the low light. He looked at Liam’s face, at the fall of his hair, at the dark cream robe still clinging loosely to his frame. His expression was one of pure, undisguised want, and it sent a fresh wave of slick heat through Liam’s body.

Arik reached out. His fingers brushed the collar of the robe, tracing the edge where it met the skin of Liam’s collarbone. Liam shivered, his nipples peaking into tight points beneath the fabric.

"You’re sure?" "Arik asked, his voice a ragged whisper, the question a last, fragile thread of control.

Liam’s response was his body arching slightly toward the touch, a bright, intoxicating burst of Saint’s breath filling the room, and the way his crimson eyes darkened with invitation.

That was all the permission Arik needed.

He gripped the edges of the robe, his hands framing Liam’s torso. With a slow, deliberate pull, he drew the fabric open. The air hit Liam’s overheated skin, and he couldn’t suppress a soft gasp. Arik’s gaze followed the path of the parting fabric, taking in his appearance: pale skin, a flushed pink on his chest, hard evidence of his arousal, and glistening wetness on his inner thighs.

Arik’s breath hitched, the sound barely audible but intensely satisfying. He pulled the robe the rest of the way down Liam’s arms and off his body, leaving it in a discarded heap on the floor.

Liam was bare before him, and Arik looked at him like he was something divine. Like he was a prize won in a war he had been fighting for a very long time.

The alpha leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of Liam’s head, caging him in. He didn’t touch him yet. He simply looked, his eyes tracing every line of Liam’s body with a reverence more devastating than any touch could be.

"You’re magnificent," Arik breathed, the words washing over Liam.

Liam felt a blush creep down his chest, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment. It was from being seen. Truly seen. And wanted.

Arik dipped his head, lips brushing Liam’s temple, then cheek, a trail of fire that left Liam shaking with anticipation.

Arik’s mouth moved lower, following the line of his jaw, the sensitive skin under his ear, his teeth scraping softly against the pulse point pounding crazily there.

Liam’s brilliant mind was now reduced to a single, screaming thought: more. The last remnant of his restraint and control vanished. He slid onto the duvet and slowly, consciously drew his knees up, allowing them to fall apart.

Arik stilled, his breath warm against Liam’s throat. He lifted his head and his eyes went to the space Liam had just made for him. The gold in his eyes flared hot and possessive as he took in the sight of Liam, slick and waiting. A low rumble sounded in his chest, something between a growl and a groan of pure, unadulterated need.

"Liam," he breathed, the name a prayer and a curse, before moving back, sinking to his knees on the plush carpet beside the bed.

Arik’s hands roamed to his hips, thumbs brushing over the sensitive skin just above Liam’s hipbones, then dragged Liam.

Liam gasped as his body slid across the smooth duvet, his ass coming to rest right on the edge of the mattress. He was completely open, his legs draped over Arik’s shoulders, his feet dangling in the air.

"Arik—ah—" he barely managed to breathe.

Arik’s hands tightened on his hips, holding him in place. He used his grip to spread Liam’s legs wider, a possessive movement that left nothing to the imagination. Liam could feel the cool air against his wet heat and the intensity of Arik’s gaze fixed on the most intimate part of him.

"God damn, Arik—Haaa—"

Arik leaned in.

The first touch of his tongue was a shock. A hot, wet line against Liam’s entrance that made his whole body arch off the bed. A choked cry escaped his lips, and his hands flew down to tangle in Arik’s dark hair, clutching on for dear life.

Arik tasted and licked him, exploring and learning, his tongue firm as he circled the delicate rim before pressing inside just enough to make Liam see stars. The scent of their combined arousal—caramel and Saint’s breath—filled the air, thick and intoxicating.

Liam was lost.

His focus narrowed to the heat in Arik’s mouth, the pressure of his hands on his hips, and the devastating rhythm he was creating. Every flick of his tongue, each gentle scrape of teeth, sent shivers up his spine. He could hear the wet, obscene sounds of Arik’s devotion, could feel the vibrations of his groans against his most sensitive flesh.

"Arik," Liam gasped, his voice broken, his hips trying to cant forward, seeking more of that perfect, torturous pleasure. "Please."

Arik responded by increasing his work, his tongue delving deeper, his mouth closing over Liam’s entrance to suck gently.

It was too much and not enough.

It was a pleasure so intense that it bordered on pain, a slow, deliberate unraveling that left Liam trembling and breathless, his crimson eyes blown wide with ecstasy as he was fully and thoroughly claimed.

Arik stopped and tilted his head as he was taking in the sight of his mate being unraveled by him. He grinned, gold eyes shining, and bit the side of Liam’s left thigh.