Twisted Soul (Cursed Legacies #3)

13. Everett

13

EVERETT

My brain shuts off when Maven strips off her sweatshirt, leaving her in nothing but those tantalizing panties.

Arati save me.

On second thought, no. I absolutely do not want to be saved from this.

The fire crackles beside the layers of thick, soft blankets as Maven lays facedown. She set up this spot for me to massage her, and now she’s waiting.

For my hands on her.

Holy gods, I’m about to massage my keeper.

Focus. This is about making her feel good. Keep it wholesome, and don’t fuck it up, horndog.

I can barely think as I kneel beside her and briefly hold my hands closer to the fire to warm them. She said she found my touch refreshing, but I’m still worried my natural temperature will be unpleasant during a massage.

I pour some of the oil into my hands, rubbing them together. I try to get my head out of the gutter as I gently but firmly begin massaging Maven’s shoulders and upper back. At first, her entire body tenses, and I pause.

“I can warm up my hands more?—”

“Don’t. It’s just…I’m not used to touch like this.”

Godsdamn me, I didn’t even think about her lingering phobia of touch. She’s seemed fine—happy, even—with the quintet’s casual touching, but this is definitely…touchier.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” I backpedal.

She props up on one elbow, turning on her side to give me an arched brow look. “I didn’t say stop. I’m just adjusting. Hello? Everett?”

Shit. I was staring again.

But how the hell am I supposed to stop when she’s posed lying on her side like this and looks like every filthy dream I’ve ever had?

I clear my throat, nodding. “Okay. But if it starts to bug you, let me know immediately.”

Maven lays back down, and I get started again. I learned a thing or two about massage during my time as a model, but holy fuck, this is hard to do when all the blood in my body has rushed south so fast that I’m lightheaded.

Her skin is just so warm. The curve of her spine, the globes of her gorgeous ass, those legs…

When I press more firmly to work out what I think is a knot near her shoulder blades, she moans softly in pained pleasure.

Holy gods, it’s like she’s fucking trying to kill me. I pause to try to get a grip, swallowing hard.

“I want to massage all of you. If that’s okay.”

Maven nods, exhaling contentedly.

I move on to her legs and arms, unsurprised by all the toned muscles that need to be soothed. After all, she’s trained this body to be a fucking weapon. I hate to think about what my keeper has gone through, but it’s pure bliss when she moans again as I move back to rub her lower back.

Trying not to overthink again, I let my hands glide over her ass, massaging as methodically as possible. But when Maven’s breathing picks up, and she squirms, I know she’s as affected as I am.

“Turn over,” I whisper hoarsely.

She does, and the luxurious heat in her gaze as she lies ready for me to pamper makes my already-hard dick twitch. It’s uncomfortably stiff in my pants, but I’m not about to let the damn thing out. This is about making Maven feel good, and if I start removing clothes, she’ll think I expect more.

I add more oil and gently massage Maven’s feet, calves, and thighs. My desperate, frayed hunger is starting to get the best of me—so before I get any closer to her panties, I reach for one of her arms again instead.

But before I can do anything, Maven sits up, cups my chin, and kisses me.

I’m immediately on my knees, straddling her as I kiss her back. Her lips are fucking divine. She pulls back to peer at me, her gaze fierce with want, just like mine.

“Strip,” she murmurs. “So I can return the favor.”

I kiss down her jaw and neck, pressing her shoulder so she lays back again instead of sitting up. “Some other time. I’m enjoying how much you enjoy this way too much.”

“Strip,” she repeats, pulling me down with her to continue teasing and biting my lips.

I quickly get my clothes the fuck off, not disrupting our kiss as I throw it all aside and free my raging erection. She wants me naked? I’ll be naked. I’ll be whatever the hell she wants as long as she never stops kissing me.

Her body arches against mine, her thigh brushing against my hard cock, making me lightheaded. I break away to let her catch her breath while I kiss lower and lower—her neck, between her tits so I can feel her scar against my lips, down her stomach until I can move aside her panties to finally slip my tongue between her thighs.

Oh, fuck. She’s so wet and warm and completely fucking irresistible .

I immediately slip a finger into her, reveling in how she feels. When I curl my finger and continue lapping at her pussy, Maven gasps, her fingers tugging at my hair.

I need more of that. The tugging, the sounds she’s making—I need it. So I continue to lick and pinch and tease, taking my time to learn what exactly makes Maven pant, what makes her moan, and what makes her tug even harder on my hair.

“Everett,” she groans, trying to grind up impatiently for more.

I pin her thighs down, giving her a chiding look before I slowly strip down her panties and toss them aside. Then I reposition myself and lick a path up her wetness, blowing softly on it.

Maven gasps sharply as her wetness frosts over, her hands sweeping over my shoulders and her fingers digging into my skin from surprise at the temperature shock. That bite from her grip is so damn good that my cock twitches, desperate for more.

I just as quickly lick the cold away to smile up at her.

“Nice party trick,” she laughs breathlessly. “And dimples. So fucking unfair.”

Party trick? Okay, if she’s going to tease me, she deserves more.

I lick her entrance again, sucking her clit as I slide a second finger into her. She starts trying to grind up against me again, making all those fantastic fucking sounds. This time, when I breathe frost all over this beautiful wetness and Maven tenses, I double down, plunging my fingers deep into her as I devour her pussy.

She swears and grips my shoulders as a sudden surge of heady wetness drenches my face, sending my control out the window as my cock twitches. I moan as pleasure races through my body. Her entrance pulses around my fingers, rhythmic and subtle.

Gods on high. I’m officially addicted to this—to her pleasure.

I smile breathlessly up at her, but Maven’s eyes widen as she sits up.

“Fuck. Did I just…?”

“You squirted,” I sigh happily, already going down for more.

But she twists her fingers in my hair to keep me in place, her brow furrowing. “Is squirting normal?”

“It’s phenomenal, so don’t even fucking think about getting self-conscious about it,” I warn. “Now, lay back and let me play with you.”

“It’s time I play with you,” she counters.

“I’ll need a few minutes.” I lower my head, ready for a repeat of one of the best moments of my life.

But then I’m left stunned when her legs lock around my shoulders, and she twists, rolling me over. She moves blindingly fast, so one moment, her thighs are beside my head, and the next, she’s straddling me with a smirk.

“You blush so nicely for me,” Maven hums.

Then she leans down to kiss my neck—and she bites me.

I swear the tiny spark of pain shoots my soul to Paradise for a second. Just like that, I don’t need a few minutes.

When she sits up to study her work, her eyes sparkle. “And your skin is so…markable.”

“Mark it, then,” I whisper once my tongue starts functioning again. “It’s all yours. I’m all yours. Just?—”

Maven’s mouth skims down my throat before she kisses me again, biting and sucking as I squeeze my eyes shut in pleasure. One of her hands brushes over my abdomen and chest, and when she teasingly pinches one of my nipples, I jolt as something new crashes through me.

Growing up, I felt like a glass object. The mirror image of my father, the unfeeling Frost heir, something perfect to stare at on a pedestal but never to touch.

I need that touch now—her touch. Brutally. Urgently. In the most intense way that I can possibly get it from my keeper.

“Can you…” I swallow, but I’m not sure how to word it.

I just know that I want…

Maven studies me as if trying to understand what I want. Then she arches a brow and gently drags her nails down my chest. I gasp and moan at the sharp sting.

“Hurt me more,” I whisper.

Maven’s gaze darkens in a way that makes my already-pounding heart try to escape. “You enjoy pain?”

My breathing hitches, my words coming out in a rush.

"Pain from you is just pleasure.” Then I realize something amazing and smile up at her. “And…you enjoy hurting me a little. Right?”

A soft smile crosses her lips, and she leans down, kissing me while her hands slip between us. I can feel her raise slightly and don’t know why until she delivers a firm, short slap to my heavy balls.

It’s an immediate injection of pain and pleasure. I swear, lightheaded with how much I love it.

“More than a little,” she confirms in a whisper, kissing my jaw.

“Fuck, yes,” I groan.

I want to ask her for even more, but then she rubs her soaked entrance against the tip of my cock, and I suddenly can’t breathe. She meets my gaze as if checking to see if I want to keep going.

I’m pretty sure I’ll die if I’m not inside her, so I grip her hips and drag her down, my cock plunging into her hot wetness as we both moan and gasp.

I thrust up into her just as she rolls her hips.

Fuck, she feels incredible. So wet and hot and tight.

Dear holy gods above.

Honestly, I shouldn't even be praying to them with how sinfully blasphemous my thoughts are right now.

Because now, I want to relish Maven’s body until she’s so overwhelmed with pleasure that she prays for me to stop. I want to spend every second inside this perfect pussy—fuck her raw on an altar and revere her the way she deserves. The others can watch until it's their turn. Maven enjoys us all worshipping her—and gods on high, I enjoy seeing her worshipped.

And I especially want more of her ferocity. More of the burning sting paired with mind-numbing bliss.

When she starts to really ride me, one of her hands twisting in my hair for that perfect dose of added pain, I bite one of my fists to contain myself.

“Wait, Maven,” I gasp. “ Fuck. Slow down. I need this to last?—”

She slows, leaning down to kiss me. For a moment, we move at a languorous pace as my heart hammers against her chest and my hands brush over her perfect body, exploring. The sheer intimacy of being with her like this is the best godsdamned thing in my life.

Gently rolling until I’m on top, I wrap Maven’s arms around my hips and thrust harder, gritting my teeth against the mounting need to come. She moans and tips her head back, eyes shutting and mouth parting slightly, so now I get to watch how utterly fucking gorgeous she is as she comes again, shuddering and swearing softly.

The wind howling outside, the fire crackling beside us, her soft gasps in my ear as I drive home over and over again, delirious over every warm, addictive sensation…

Perfect.

This is perfection. She is perfection.

Finally, I can’t fight it anymore as the release smashes into me. I gasp and swear, clutching her tightly against me as I finish thrusting hard several more times.

I swear it’s like she just fucking took my soul out through my dick.

I have never felt this good.

“Gods,” she laughs breathlessly as I gently pull out and turn so she’s cuddled against my chest. I rub her back, her arms, her side—I just can’t stop touching her.

“That was…” I have no words.

“Special enough?” she checks.

Is that something she was worried about? I tip her head to peer at her so she gets how much I mean this. “Everything with you is special. Every single fucking moment. So yeah, it was. Also…I’m glad you liked the massage oil.”

Maven grins. “I loved it.”

I just have to get another dopamine hit seeing her open the last gift.

I kiss her temple, giddy and high on everything that is Maven.

“Wait here a moment,” I whisper.

I slip into the attached kitchen and quickly return with the remaining paper bag, offering it to her as I sit beside her. I’m heavily aware of how her beautiful eyes trail over every exposed inch of me before trapping my gaze like she’s mapping out both my body and mind.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that, your last gift will have to wait for another round,” I warn, unable to keep the smile off my face.

She leans forward unexpectedly to kiss my cheek—where one of my dimples is. “More incredible sex? Oh, the horror.”

She sits up, bundling one of the blankets around herself up to her shoulders. I’m seriously trying to come up with the best way to politely tell her that I need to bask next to her naked body as long as possible. Now that I know how divine and fucking warm her pussy is, my cock can’t seem to calm down. My entire body feels both primed and relaxed at once.

I force myself not to fidget nervously as she rubs at her chest through the blanket before pulling out the last gift. She blinks and turns it side to side, admiring the carvings on the handle.

“Is this…a dagger made from bone?”

“It’s a Salish deer bone knife,” I nod. “The man who made it and sold it to me said it’s best used for carving fish or putting on display. It’s not really a weapon, but…I thought it looked nice. You don’t have to keep it if you don’t like it,” I tack on, stating the obvious like an idiot.

Besides, the moment we’re out of this mess, I’ll buy her a dozen of the world’s best daggers if she wants. Anything she wants, and even stuff she’s never thought of wanting.

Maven studies it closer, a soft smile curving her lips. “Thank you.”

Then she squints, turning the blade to show off the Oakley engraved on one side.

Maybe it’s time I come clean about my fake last name , she muses.

“I know it’s fake,” I shrug. “To be honest, I’ve been wondering if your last name is actually Ama?—”

I cut off when it sinks in that her mouth didn’t move. Her eyes snap to mine as she rubs the center of her chest again, finally dropping the blanket to look down.

A surge of breathless delight makes me go dizzy.

A perfect square is centered on the line and scar on her chest—the emblem of the House of Elements, with the four corners representing each of the elements. It’s such a stark new design on my keeper that for a moment, we both stare at it as my entire world seems to finally click into place.

At last.

She’s mine, and I’m hers, and nothing will ever take her away from me.

Not even a fake curse.

I’m so overwhelmed that I don’t think twice before pulling her into my arms, cradling her as powerful emotions swirl through me.

Relief. Excitement. Joy.

All my life, I’ve been told I would ruin this. I stayed alone and pushed everyone else away for their own good, determined to save them from my curse. I assumed I would die alone after rotting in misery all my days, painfully cold and lonely and so damn empty that I would gladly give up the ghost when Syntyche came to reap my soul.

But now?

I’m bound at last, which means I’m…free. No more curse—falsified or not. I can breathe for the first time since Arati’s high priest opened his mouth and ruined any chance at my happiness.

Dear gods, I thank you .

Maven runs a finger over the new emblem on her chest, her gaze heated when it moves back to me. “It worked, but why?”

“Why?” I echo, too busy grinning to puzzle out what she means.

“We just had sex.”

“Not nearly enough of it, if you ask me,” I reply honestly, my attention trained on her finger drifting over my emblem.

My emblem.

On Maven.

This is the best fucking day of my life. I don’t even know how to handle this level of happiness, which is probably why I’m both lovesick and borderline loopy at the same time.

She laughs and shakes her head. “I mean, I haven’t exactly been abstaining with the others. If sex is all it takes to make this non-gods-approved bond happen, then why did it only work now?”

It’s a fair question, but once again, all I can think about is that I’m hers. I scoot closer to Maven because I can’t get enough of her warmth—but I freeze when she subtly scoots away from me.

Maven sees my expression and quickly says, “It’s not you. My body is just finally catching up with the massage, but I’m fine. It passes quickly.”

It kills me that my keeper is downplaying whatever remains of her haphephobia.

Then she tips her head, frowning. “What did you mean earlier about knowing my surname is fake?”

I hesitate.

Ever since we learned more about Maven’s past and her being abducted by shadow fiends when she was young, I’ve wondered about the human brought into that courthouse years ago. Pietro Amato—that was his name. He said his daughter was alive in the Nether, that he needed to rescue her, that she was special…

What if Maven was his daughter?

And what if he was saying that because she’s a saint?

Saints are selected by their patron gods at birth. They’re supposed to live pious, celibate lives as representatives of Paradise, able to use holy magic to a certain degree so long as they abide by the rules of the god who selected them. They bless humans, travel the world, heal the sick, and tend to the temples. Many of them have become great humanitarians who have gone down in history.

If my keeper were picked by one of the gods as a baby, it’s no wonder her father would be desperate to get her back. And I’m almost positive Amato was her father, but what if I’m wrong?

Before I can confess my thoughts to Maven, she straightens and looks at a nearby corner of the room. I tense, worried that fucking wraith has somehow found us again, but she sounds more relieved than worried.

“You’re back.”

It’s quiet for a second before the air ripples beside the front door and then I’m looking right at a very pissed-off incubus. He’s standing with his arms folded, some blood smeared on his hands, and tears in his leather jacket, but at least he doesn’t look as shitty as the last time he came back from something in Limbo.

“You’re bonded ,” he mutters, looking like he wants to kill me.

Not that it’s a surprising look on him. I’ve seen it plenty of times. It gets old pretty damn fast.

“Take your jealousy somewhere else, asshole. You’re ruining our afterglow.” I adjust the blankets to cover Maven and me more.

Crypt smiles darkly, without humor. “Enjoy it while you can. You’ll have to sleep eventually, and when you do, I’ll be there.”

What a creep.

Maven laughs at the face I pull. The sound is pure heaven. I move her onto my lap and grin like an idiot when she pecks me on the cheek.

I’m going to spoil the godsdamned soul out of this woman.

I’m all yours, you know that? I tell her telepathically. Like I said. No holds barred. I know I’ll never actually be worthy of you, but I’m sure as hell going to try my best. Now that I finally get to love you the way I’ve been needing to ? —

I’m interrupted and shocked when Maven actually blushes and covers my mouth with one of her hands like she’s trying to stop the words.

You know this is in our heads, right? I check, laughing.

All of our heads, actually, Silas’s voice inserts, making us both blink. He’s not back at the cabin, and I suddenly wonder how far the telepathic bond goes. Not to make it a competition, but my proclamations of love are much better. Aren’t they, sangfluir? Shall I let Everett know how much you enjoy sweet confessions whispered to your head?

Quiet or I’ll block you out, Maven sends back.

Crypt mutters something under his breath and pulls out a lighter and reverium cigarette, igniting it despite my protest as he stalks toward us. “Enough with the telepathy.”

He sits and promptly pulls our keeper out of my arms and onto his lap instead, kissing her before taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Don’t get that fucking smoke on her. And everyone knows newlybounds need to stay close,” I scowl, pulling her back onto my lap.

He resists, wrapping an arm around her waist. Maven smirks up at us when she winds up halfway on his lap and halfway on mine, her newly-marked chest on display right as Baelfire pushes through the front door with a gust of wintry wind. The dragon shifter is stark naked, covered in dirt, melted snow, animal blood, and a surprising amount of ripped-up feathers.

He halts, blinking at the scene in front of him.

“Holy fuck. Snowflake finally got laid? Damn, that’s a lot of hickeys.”

I flush, but it’s not like I have any regrets—especially not when Maven smirks and reaches up to brush one of the marks she left on me.

Baelfire brushes snow off his shoulders. “Okay, Angel of Death, I have a very serious question for you. Was his jizz normal, or was it cold like a?—”

“Shut the fuck up, dragon,” I cut him off with an eye roll.