I come so hard I’m surprised I don’t black out, spilling hot jets of cum deep inside of her, marking her as mine. But I don’t take my hand off her clit until I wrench the very last wave of pleasure from her singing body, not until she slumps against my chest, shaking from the aftershocks.
Only then do I move my hand and start to stroke her arm instead. Slowly, gently, fingertips grazing up and down. We stay sitting there for several long moments, and I don’t rush her. I don’t push. My cock has no complaints, and neither do I. I wish we could stay in this cave, I wish I could keep her safe in my lap. But despite my wishes, reality comes trickling in.
Her pliant warmth turns stiff, her mind racing fast enough that I can hear it whirring. I watch as her head lifts from my shoulder, eyes flicking around, taking in the dark cave, seeing the swill of gold still puddled on the floor just a foot away.
“Slade…” she says, but this time, it isn’t with the plea of pleasure. It’s a call of fear.
“You’re okay, Auren,” I say, but she’s already scrambling off me, yanking up her discarded leggings from the floor.
I get to my feet and pull up my pants, tying up the laces as I watch her circling around, her eyes wild as she takes in the cave, her fingers spearing into her hair as she shakes her head. I don’t know if it’s the shock of taking in this unfamiliar place, but the pain in her eyes as reality comes crashing down around her makes me want to roar, want to protect.
She stumbles on her feet, eyes wide, hand snapping up to grab her throat, right over the subtle slice of a scar. She’s staring at the gold on the floor like it’s utter demise looking back at her. When the gold starts to move, starts to come closer to her, she flinches back with a cry. “No, no, no, no, no!”
“Auren.”
Panic has set in, her head shaking nonstop. For the first time since she woke, worry creeps up the back of my neck. Before, when she was attacking me, I had complete confidence that she would snap out of that state and come back to me, had complete confidence that she was in control of her magic.
But now…
Her breathing starts to go quick and hollow, like no matter how much she inhales, she can’t get enough air.
“Auren, look at me.”
She spins in place, looking around wildly. “I don’t… Where am I? I can’t let the gold go. I need it away from me! I need it to stop!”
I stride forward, but the sound of my boots splashing through the melted gold makes her flinch. “It’s okay,” I start to tell her, but she isn’t hearing me.
“What did I do, Slade?” Her arm grazes the cave wall, making the gold splatter there stick like syrup against her sleeve. She wrenches back from it, cowering with a full-body tremble. “Oh goddess,” she breathes, a hand clamping over her mouth in horror. “What did I do?” The question is a shaken whisper. A cornered recognition with its hindlegs backed against a wall.
Sidestepping, I slip in front of her, gripping her by the arms. “Look at me.” She tries to jerk away, but I keep my grip firm. “Auren, look at me.”
Her gaze snaps to mine, her pupils blown with fear, the pulse in her neck racing. “What did I do…”
“Breathe with me.”
I take in a deep breath, pursing my lips slightly to blow it back out. I do this again and again until she starts to mimic me. At first, her breaths are still too quick, her eyes too wild, but slowly, her breathing calms down enough that she’s no longer hyperventilating.
As her panic ebbs, her gold no longer dollops with movement. I can tell the moment she severs her hold over it, because it no longer seems alive. Instead, it’s just liquid left to dry on the floor.
“That’s good,” I soothe, running my hands up and down her arms. “You’re doing so good. Keep breathing.”
She lets out a shuddering breath, watery eyes lifting to mine like she’s seeing me for the first time. “Slade.”
“I’m here, baby.”
My chest has gone tight. I’m so overjoyed that she’s awake, that she’s herself, but I don’t want her to feel fear, to feel despair.
Her gaze drifts to the gold splatters along the cave walls, to the pool of it solidifying on the floor. “Great Divine.”
I watch it—the memories—as they seem to fall into place one after the other. There’s a whole host of expressions that cross her face, but all I can do is brace myself, waiting for the onslaught. Of blame. Of hate. Of guilt.
I think that’s what will cut me deepest. Not her blaming me or even hating me for rotting her—I deserve that.