The dining room lights had dimmed, leaving the mansion in a state of tranquil shadows. The laughter of Alex and the quiet murmurs of Vincent and Kaelen had faded as they retreated to their respective wings. The air still held the faint, savory ghost of the Wagyu beef and the sweet scent of the singing spinach, but in the master suite, the atmosphere had shifted into something far more concentrated.
Chase exhaled a long breath of genuine relief, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. The fabric fell to the floor, exposing the corded muscle and the faint, silvery scars of a hundred battles—marks of a man who had finally found a place to rest. "Well, today was fun, wasn't it, Rixsa?"
He didn't hear her move; she was a scout, after all. He only felt the sudden, searing heat of her body as she wrapped her arms around his back, her palms pressing flat against his chest. Chase started, his heart kicking against his ribs. "Rixsa? What are you doing?"
"What I've meant to do for so long," she whispered against his skin. Her voice was a low, vibrating purr that sent a shiver straight down his spine.
Before he could respond, she shifted her weight with predatory efficiency, pushing him back onto the expansive bed. The silk sheets felt cool against his skin, but Rixsa was a wildfire. She climbed on top of him, her knees pinning his thighs, her weight a deliberate, grounding pressure. Her fingers, calloused from years of handling daggers, now traced the ridges of his abdominals with an agonizingly slow deliberation.
Her eyes were no longer mischievous; they were dark, dilated, and fixed on him with a hunger that made the "Warrior" inside him stir in a way it never had on the battlefield. She licked her lips, her face twisting into a lustful, triumphant smile. "Tonight, there are no distractions, Chase. No contracts, no CEOs, no monsters at the gate. It's just me and you... and I am going to enjoy you."
Chase's face flushed a deep crimson, his breath hitching as her hands moved higher. "Oh? You plan to devour me? Well... I guess that means this isn't an essence stabilization session. I don't have to hold back my own 'Warrior' side."
He started to reach for her waist, his muscles tensing to flip the positions, but Rixsa was faster. In a blur of motion that utilized her scout reflexes, she grabbed his wrists. With a flick of her Essence, she produced two thin, shimmering strands of dark energy—not enough to hurt, but enough to bind. Clack. His hands were secured to the heavy, dark-wood frame of the bed.
"No, no," she whispered, leaning down until her lips were brushing the shell of his ear. "You stay still. You're the snack tonight, Surgeon. And I've always been a very slow eater."
She began at his neck, her tongue trailing a path of fire along his jugular. Each lick was followed by a sharp, possessive nip of her teeth that made Chase groan, his head falling back into the pillows. She moved to his collarbone, her kisses alternating between soft, feather-light grazes and deep, bruising pressure.
Rixsa relished the sound of his breathing turning shallow and ragged. She mapped his chest with her mouth, her hair falling like a curtain around them, isolating them in a world of silk and skin. Every time Chase tried to strain against the bindings, she would growl low in her throat, her nails raking lightly over his ribs, reminding him exactly who was in control of this particular "mission."
"You taste like salt air and victory," she murmured against his heart, feeling its frantic rhythm. "And you're all mine."
The "Surgeon" had spent centuries meticulously taking things apart. But as Rixsa moved lower, her touch emboldened by the Ether-silk and the safety of their home, Chase realized he didn't want to be the one in control. For the first time in years, he let the world outside the room vanish, surrendering completely to the woman who had become his anchor in the storm.
The air in the master suite was thick with the scent of raw, unbridled desire. The cool sea breeze from the balcony did nothing to dampen the heat radiating from the bed. Rixsa moved with the focused intent of a predator who had finally cornered its prize, her green eyes shimmering with a dark, luster in the dim light.
She moved lower, her fingers nimble as she unfastened his belt and trousers, her lips curling into a triumphant smile as she exposed him to the cool air. She didn't hesitate, her tongue darting out to trace the length of him with agonizing slowness. She wrapped her tongue around him, savoring the taste of him, moving with a rhythmic, pulsing heat that made the room spin for Chase.
A low, guttural groan escaped his throat—a sound he tried desperately to swallow, but it tore through his composure. His back arched off the silk sheets, his muscles corded like steel cables under his skin. Rixsa ignored his struggle for restraint, focusing entirely on his arousal until he was fully, throbbing erect.
She leaned down, her hair brushing against his thighs like a silken curtain, and took the head of his length into her mouth. She focused on the most sensitive nerves, her tongue swirling in a tight, heated circle that sent white-hot sparks through Chase's vision. After a few minutes of torturous teasing, she slid down, taking the entirety of him into the heat of her throat.
The sensation was overwhelming. Chase's eyes rolled back, his breath hitching in a jagged, broken rhythm. The sight of the bulge in her slender neck as she took him deep made his heart hammer against his ribs like a trapped bird.
"Rix... slow... please..." he managed to choke out, his voice a hoarse, desperate rasp.
But the scout was merciless. She used the muscles of her throat to constrict around his base while her tongue flicked relentlessly against the tip. She came up for only a fraction of a second, her face flushed and her eyes wild with a lustful dominance, just to witness the sheer undoing on his face before diving back down. Chase's climax was no longer a possibility; it was an approaching storm.
"Rix, give m-m-me a moment!" he gasped, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists. The "Warrior's" strength, fueled by the sheer intensity of the pleasure, surged through him. With a violent, metallic snap, the energy-infused bindings on the bedframe shattered.
He lunged forward, his hands grasping her horns—not to push her away, but to find some kind of anchor as the world dissolved. He tried to pull back, to catch his breath, but the friction of her lips and the suction of her throat were the final catalysts. His body stiffened, every muscle locking in a tectonic release as he poured his Essence and his heat deep into her.
Chase collapsed back onto the pillows, his chest heaving, his skin slick with sweat. He felt drained, his mind a static-filled void of post-orgasmic bliss.
Rixsa didn't pull away immediately. She stayed there, ensuring she took every drop, her throat working in a slow, rhythmic swallow. When she finally looked up, she licked her lips clean, her expression one of utter, sated pride.
"Tasty," she remarked, her voice a smoky purr. She reached out, her finger flicking the side of him, noting with a predatory grin that the "Warrior" wasn't finished. "Look at that. Even after all that, you still have energy. It seems the surgeon has quite the constitution."
She crawled back up his body, her damp skin pressing against his, her horns grazing his chin. "Well then, Warrior... time for round two. And this time, I'm not using the bindings. I want to see if you can keep up when you're free to fight back."