Pairing: Xaden Riorson x Reader
Rating: Mature (Sensory Play, Mind-Bond Tension)
Summary: A sparring match turns into something else when Xaden decides to use his shadows.
The sparring mat smelled of ozone and sweat. You were on your back before you could even register the sweep of his leg, the air knocked from your lungs.
Xaden loomed over you, his dark eyes glittering with that infuriating, arrogant amusement. But he didn't back away like he was supposed to. He settled between your knees, his weight heavy and solid, pinning you to the canvas.
"Dead," he murmured, his voice vibrating in your chest. "Again."
"Get off," you panted, shoving at his chest. It was like shoving a granite wall.
Make me, his voice echoed in your mind—deep, velvety, and taunting.
You glared at him, but the retort died in your throat. The shadows in the corner of the room detached themselves. They didn't slither like snakes; they flowed like smoke, rushing toward you.
Xaden’s hands pinned your wrists above your head, his grip unyielding. "You're distracted," he whispered aloud, lowering his head until his lips brushed the sensitive shell of your ear. "You're thinking about how close I am."
The shadows curled around your ankles, cool and solid. They drifted up your calves, under the hem of your training leathers, ghosting over bare skin with a sensation that was terrifyingly intimate.
You arched your back, a gasp escaping your lips. Xaden felt it. His eyes darkened, the amusement vanishing, replaced by a predatory hunger.
Do you like that? The words in your mind were dark and jagged.
His shadows tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The friction was maddening. He ground his hips down, just once—a slow, deliberate pressure that made your vision blur.
"Xaden," you warned, though it sounded more like a beg.
"Tell me to stop," he challenged, his mouth hovering inches from yours, his breath hot against your lips. He released one of your wrists, his hand sliding down your throat, over your collarbone, his thumb tracing the line of your bodice. "Tell me to stop, and I will."
You looked up at him—at the beautiful, lethal scar bisecting his eyebrow, the raw desire burning in his onyx eyes.
"Don't," you whispered. "Don't stop."
Xaden groaned, a low, guttural sound of surrender. He crushed his mouth to yours, his tongue sweeping inside, tasting you, owning you. The shadows surged, wrapping around both of you, plunging the world into darkness as his hand slid lower, finally seeking the heat he had been craving for months.
