Chapter 81: Pumpkin (Mature 18+)

Azura’s POV

Warning: This Chapter contains Mature scenes, read at your own risk.

The heat coming off Rhydor’s skin was unnatural. It felt like standing too close to an open flame. I sat on the edge of the bed, my palm pressed flat against his cheek, and my skin felt like it was starting to blister.

The room was deathly quiet, save for the faint, hungry crackle of the wall torch and the ragged, shallow scrap of his breathing.

Those black lines were pulsing like dark, angry worms under his skin. They had crawled past his jaw now, reaching for his ear. My chest felt like it was being crushed by a vice.

Something pulled at me. An invisible rope I could not see, could not name, could not understand. It yanked at my ribs, dragging me toward him so hard it hurt to breathe. I had never felt the mate bond before. I did not know if this was it. I only knew that if I did not move, something inside me would shatter.

But I did not know how to ’open’ myself. I was not a healer. I was just Azura. A clueless girl with a heart currently full of messy, boiling anger at the man dying in front of me.

"Rhydor," I whispered..

I leaned in, my face inches from his. I could smell the metallic tang of the black magic on him.

A kiss? It felt like a stupid child’s story, a fairy tale for people who didn’t live in a world this cruel. But if the bond was the only cure, I had to try.

I hovered over him, my face feeling like it was melting from the heat and the sheer, stinging shame of what I was about to do. I had never kissed anyone. I didn’t know where to put my nose. I didn’t know how to tilt my head.

I just pressed my lips against his, hard and stiff. His mouth was warm and slightly open, but he didn’t move. I tried again, pressing firmer, my heart slamming against my teeth like a trapped bird.

Suddenly, a low, pained groan rumbled deep in his throat. His eyes flickered open slowly, hazy and swimming with a gold so bright it looked like molten suns.

"Azura... what..."

I pulled back immediately

"You collapsed," I said, the words tripping over each other in my rush to get them out. "The wound, it’s black magic. Genevieve said the only way to stop it is the bond. I have to... I have to give you my strength."

He groaned, a sound of pure agony, and forced himself onto his elbows. He looked at the black lines on his neck and then at me. His jaw set in that stubborn, arrogant Alpha way that usually made me want to scream. Even dying, he was trying to be the strongest person in the room.

"I’m fine," he rasped, his voice sounding like it was being dragged over broken glass. He swung his legs over the bed, standing up with a violent wobble. He started buttoning his shirt, his fingers fumbling and clumsy. He wouldn’t even look at me.

"Go back to your room, Pumpkin. I’ll handle it."

Wait, whaaaaat!

"Pumpkin?" I snapped. The name felt like a slap. "Don’t you dare call me that! Before I strangle you with my own hands."

"And you aren’t fine! You’re literally dying because you’re too proud to admit you need me! You’d rather drop dead than let a rankless girl save your life!" I added stating facts.

He didn’t listen. He turned for the door, but his legs would not hold him. He stumbled sideways, his shoulder hitting the cold stone wall. He pushed off it without pausing, still reaching for the door.

I knew if he left this room, he’d keep fighting alone until his heart simply gave up.

I hated him for it. I hated him for being so difficult, but the thought of him being gone made my stomach turn into a block of ice.

My brain went numb. My instincts took over.

I stepped in front of the door. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely feel them. I grabbed the hem of my dress.

I can’t believe I’m doing this for a man I wanted to kill an hour ago, I thought. But whatever was pulling me, didn’t care about my anger.

In one fast, desperate motion, I pulled the dress over my head and let it drop.

The cold air hit my bare skin, making my nipples turn into hard, sensitive pebbles instantly. I stood there, completely naked, my heart hammering so loud it echoed in my ears.

Oh! Moon Goddess, just end me already.

I had never been seen like this by anyone before. I felt so small, so exposed, and so incredibly shy that I wanted to curl into a ball on the floor.

Rhydor froze. His hand was on the handle, but he didn’t turn it. He turned his head slowly to look down at me. His amber eyes went wide, the gold in them exploding until they burned like molten suns. The brown was swallowed whole.

He looked at my chest, then down to the soft hair between my thighs, then back up to my face.

A deep, hungry growl ripped out of his chest, a sound that was half-man, half-wolf.

"Azura," he hissed, his voice thick and raw. "What are you doing?"

"Saving you," I whispered as I stepped closer.

Who even gave you that audacity, my internal thoughts screamed at me.

The stone floor was freezing under my feet. The heat from his body wrapped around me like a blanket. I felt a strange, heavy dampness between my legs that I didn’t understand. My body was reacting to him even while my mind was terrified.

He reached out, his big hand trembling. He touched my shoulder, his skin like a red-hot brand. He trailed his fingers down my arm, and I shivered so hard my teeth clinked.

Then he stopped. His hand dropped. He stood there, chest heaving, and then fixed his eyes on the wall behind me like it held the answer to a question he could not ask.

"This is wrong," he said quietly. "You are angry at me. You should be. And I..." He stopped. Swallowed. "I will not use your sacrifice to take something you are not ready to give."

Oh, spare me the noble speech. The thought burned through my mind. Just...

But my body didn’t wait for my brain to finish. It stepped forward and pressed me against him..

He froze at first.

Then slowly hands came up, trembling, and settled on my waist.

He pulled me closer, his head dropping to the crook of my neck. For a long moment, he just stayed there, his breath warm against my skin. Then his lips found me, soft, slow, like he was memorizing the feel of me.

A tiny moan escaped before I could stop it. "Mmm..."

"Pumpkin," he breathed into my neck, his voice cracking on the word. He pulled me tighter, his whole body shaking. He inhaled deeply, sounding like a man who hadn’t breathed in years.

"I told you... not to..." I couldn’t finish the words, his lips slammed into mine.

This wasn’t the clumsy kiss from before. He was claiming me. I didn’t know what to do with my mouth, so I just opened it, trying to follow his lead. It was messy. I felt a string of saliva slip from the corner of my lip, a wet, embarrassing trail that ran down my chin. I was a mess, but he didn’t seem to care. He groaned into my mouth, his tongue sweeping inside, tasting like heat and desperation.

He picked me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. He walked me to the bed and lay me down, kneeling between my open legs. His eyes were dark, a predator looking at his prize.

"I’ve wanted you. Every day. Every night. Every moment." he confessed, his voice a low vibration.

He leaned down, his tongue licking a slow path to my breast. When he took the tip into his mouth and sucked, I arched my back so hard I thought I’d break.

"Rhydor! Oh... stop... no, don’t stop!" The sounds coming out of me were high and needy. My mind was a mess.

I didn’t recognize myself. I was so embarrassed by how loud I was being, but every time his tongue flicked against me, I lost my mind.

His hand slid down my stomach, the callouses on his palm scratching my skin. I felt his fingers brush the hair between my legs and I flinched, my thighs snapping shut. I was so shy, so scared of him seeing me there, of him knowing how much I wanted this.

"Easy," he whispered, prying my knees back open with a firm, gentle strength. "Let me see you, Pumpkin. Let me see what’s mine."

He looked at me for a long time then, his gaze so heavy I felt like I was being pinned to the mattress by his eyes alone. I wanted to grab the pillows and bury my face under them, anything to hide the way I was shaking. But he didn’t let me hide.

"Don’t hide from me," he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow circle on my inner thigh. "Not now. Not ever."

He didn’t just rush in. Instead, he rested the palm of his hand against my inner thigh, letting the heat of his skin soak into mine. I gasped as he began to move his hand upward, his thumb tracing lazy, agonizingly slow circles against the sensitive skin of my lap.

He reached the center of me, but he didn’t go inside yet. He just hovered there, his breath hot against my stomach as he looked down at where he was touching me. Then, he pressed his palm flat against my core, applying a firm, rhythmic pressure that made my hips jump off the bed.

"Rhydor... please..." I whined, my hands fisting in the sheets.

"Shhh," he hummed, a low vibration that I felt deep in my bones.

He began to massage me, his fingers moving in slow, heavy circles over the outer folds. He was slicking my own wetness across that tiny, throbbing bud at the top, over and over until I was sobbing for breath.

The friction was incredible, a building fire that made my head roll back. Every time his palm pressed down, a new wave of heat crashed over me. I wasn’t just moaning anymore; I was making broken, high-pitched sounds I didn’t know I could make.

I was so sensitive, so ready, that even the slightest brush of his thumb made my vision blur. I felt myself leaking onto his hand, a thick, honeyed heat that told him exactly how turned on I was.

"You like that, don’t you?" he growled, watching the way my thighs trembled. "Look at how much you want me."

"I... I don’t..." I tried to lie, but then he pressed a bit harder, circling that sensitive spot with a bit more speed, and I cried out, my back arching until only my head and heels were touching the bed.

He waited until I was completely mindless, until my breath was coming in short, desperate hitches, before he finally shifted his weight. He kissed the inside of my knee, then dipped one of his fingers into me.

I gasped, a sharp, stinging pain blooming as he pushed against my entrance. It felt tight, too tight, like I was being stretched apart.

"Wait... it hurts..."

"Shhh," he murmured, kissing my inner thigh. "Just a second. I’ll take it easy, okay?"

He pushed one finger inside me. Slow. Careful. I gripped his shoulders and held my breath. He waited, letting me adjust, then pushed deeper. When my body softened, he added a second finger, moving with the same gentle patience. In and out, slow and steady, until the tightness began to ease.

Little by little, the sting faded. It dissolved into a heavy, throbbing ache that pulsed with every movement.

I felt myself grow wetter around his fingers, felt my body begin to welcome him instead of fighting him.

Squelch!!

The sound of his fingers sliding into my wetness was so loud in the quiet room. I gasped, my face turning crimson. It felt so full, so deep.

"You’re so small and tight," he groaned, his voice full of wonder.

He started moving his fingers faster, in and out.

Squish. Slide. Squelch.

The dirty, wet sounds made my head spin.

I felt myself getting wetter, my body leaking onto his hand, a thick heat spreading from where he touched me. He moved faster, his thumb rubbing a tiny, sensitive bud at the top that I hadn’t even known existed.

"Rhydor, what is that? Ugh!" My hands flew to his long hair, pulling his head closer. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was just tossing my head on the bed, my mouth hanging open, more saliva escaping as I lost control of my own body. I felt like I was being pulled apart by the pleasure.

He didn’t say a word. He just watched my face as I fell apart. The black lines on his neck were fading visibly now, the bond drinking my life force to heal his broken body. He looked stronger with every thrust of his fingers.

The heat in my belly kept building. It felt like a string being pulled tighter and tighter.

"More," I begged, my voice a broken, desperate whimper. "Please, Rhy... more. I can’t... I need..."

He growled, his fingers thrusting deeper, hitting a spot that made my toes curl.

Thrust. Squelch. Slap.

The sound of his palm hitting my thighs joined the rhythm, a heavy, rhythmic beat.

I screamed his name. My whole body jerked, my muscles clenching around his fingers so hard he hissed in surprise. A wave of pure, white heat crashed over me, leaving me shaking and sobbing for breath. I felt every muscle in my body go tight, then melt like wax.

I lay there shaking, tears slipping from the corners of my eyes without permission. I didn’t know why I was crying. Relief? Embarrassment? The sheer intensity of it all?

Rhydor’s thumb brushed a tear away. "Shh," he murmured. "I’ve got you."

He pulled his fingers out.

shlop!

And crawled up the bed. He pulled me into his chest, wrapping his arms around my naked body while he was still fully dressed. He was breathing like he’d run a marathon, his heart slamming against my ear. I could feel something hard pressing against my stomach.

But my brain was too tired to function well.

"You’re healed," I whispered, my voice a wreck.

"Yeah," he said, kissing my forehead with a tenderness that made my throat ache. "Sleep now, Pumpkin. You did well."

I was too spent to argue about the name. I just curled into him, hiding my face in the crook of his neck, and let the darkness take me.