THIRTY-ONE
My mate’s virginal sheath . . . milking my finger . . . as I bring her to come.
Too much . . . Sian nigh lost his senses. Had to fight not to spontaneously culminate. His hand—steady for lifetimes—shook wildly as he drew out her orgasm.
Once she was spent, she closed her legs and pushed at his wrist.
He shuddered as he removed his finger from her body, reluctantly surrendering his prize. He would never get enough of her quivering tits, her gripping pussy, her desperate moans. The way she called him husband and looked at him with trust. Want her so fucking much!
She was pleasure godsdamned embodied.
“Abyssian?” she said, her voice uncertain. “You look really . . . demonic.”
The unbearable pressure racking his body demanded release. He’d be finished with one pump of his shaft. “Slake me, wife.”
“How?”
He took her hand and raised it to his face. He kissed her palm. Flicked it with his tongue. Rubbed his cheek against it. Then he placed it high on his chest, dragging it down. “Touch me. Touch my cock.”
Every time he mentioned his cock, her ears twitched, and her eyes grew brighter. Wicked little female. She rose to stand between his thighs. With a trembling hand, she caressed the length of a glyph.
He sucked in a breath. Exploring me? He’d expected her to tend him in a perfunctory manner. If she knew how close he was to coming . . . He was almost fearful of his impending release.
Eyes watchful, she did it again. “Your skin is hot like fire, and when these glow they look like flames.” Another light stroke. “Are they sensitive? Do you like them to be touched?”
He sensed her rebounding excitement, and it made his shaft jerk in the water. “Yes.” He stared into her eyes. Between breaths, he said, “No part of me . . . is off-limits to you. Touch where you will.”
She surprised him by reaching for one of his wings.
Lila smoothed her palm over the exterior of a wing. That side was roughened like callused skin, yet he seemed to feel even the slightest contact. His muscles rippled when she lightly raked her nails across it.
After the orgasm he’d just given her, she was more curious about her new husband—about what made him . . . demonic. “You don’t fly a lot?”
He shook his head. “I trace too easily. They’re more for battle.”
She let go of his wing. Always back to war with this one. The impulse to touch his horns struck her, but she held off. She reached down and began trailing her fingers up his neck. He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple moving between her fingertips.
She grazed her knuckles along his wide jawline and his prominent chin. Tracing the piercings above the bridge of his nose, she asked, “Did these hurt?”
“Fleetingly.”
She cradled his face, then smoothed her thumbs over his sharp cheekbones, his stern brow, his sensual lips. . . .
The gold band on her ring finger glinted in the firelight—a wedding ring of sorts.
Returning her attention to his chest, she traced a fingertip over one of his pierced nipples.
He inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. His wings fluttered uncontrollably. Sensitive!
She grazed him again, and he groaned, his brows drawing together as if she’d struck him.
I can make this king quake with my tiniest touch! His response made her giddy. She wanted to test out her newfound power, to explore him all over and gauge his reactions.
He rasped, “You’re figuring it out, aren’t you?”
“What?”
In Demonish, he said, “That I’ll command you, but you’ll rule me.”
She just kept herself from nodding. After he’d captured her earlier, she’d predicted a bleak future. Now hope glimmered. They would actually have mind-blowing pleasure between them—and she wouldn’t be powerless.
Feeling bolder, she trailed a fingertip down his torso. Breaths ragged, he gripped the sides of the tub.
His lean sinews strained to her touch. Every inch lower increased his obvious agony.
Her hand descended beneath the water’s surface. She gazed up into his eyes as she circled his navel. He gnashed his teeth till his jaw muscles ticked.
She grazed the length of his shaft, and a yell burst from his chest. One tiny touch . . .
“You won’t accidentally hurt me?”
Sharp shake of his head.
She reached lower and cupped his heavy testicles.
His grip began to bend the copper. “Lila . . .” Black flooded even the whites of his eyes.
The texture and weight of his balls fascinated her. The demon must love having them stroked; he spread his knees wide and bucked. If he responded like this to her hands, what if she used her mouth? Her tongue?
Her fingertips alighted on his shaft. She gave a tentative graze along the slit of his cockhead.
“Uhn!” His body shook so hard, the tub vibrated.
Playing with fire, girl. But she was more titillated than nervous. She circled her thumb over the slit. “It’s slick.” Even in the water.
He’d tightened his grip on the tub until the contact radiated glowing white heat through the metal. “I make it . . . for you alone.” The castle quaked, volcanoes threatening.
She should be afraid, but she was dizzy with discovery. I’m already addicted to this. . . .
Sian’s mate was a born temptress. Her eyes were glittering. A flush of new arousal spread over her chest and breasts.
He’d never imagined she could be this sexually engaged with him—not so soon. He’d never expected her. A lusty fey firebrand named Lila.
How much more could he take before he sucked her taut nipples raw? Before he devoured her tender pussy and rubbed his horns all over her to mark her with his scent? “No more play.” He gazed longingly at her pale neck, his fangs throbbing as badly as his cock. “Make me come.”
Eyes watchful on his face—she had yet to even glance down—she stroked both of his nipples.
“Yes!” His groan grew constant. His heavy balls drew up, readying.
She dipped one hand. Simultaneously, she thumbed a nipple and his cockhead. His eyes rolled back in his head.
Over—
His back bowed, and he roared his release. “Fuck, fuck, GODS!” His wings snapped open, cleanly slicing the sides of the tub; water sloshed out into the bathroom. His grip mangled the metal.
She rubbed the crown over and over, hurtling him to even greater heights, his roar deepening. Cracks appeared in the walls. Volcanoes heaved and spewed as his cock pulsated for her again and again. . . .
Once the explosions ebbed, he grabbed Calliope and collapsed back on the bench.
Legs sprawled.
Mate in his lap.
Shaft still pulsing.
Her name on his tongue. “Lila . . .”