FORTY-THREE
As he lapped at her luscious orgasm, Calliope’s voice carried as if from a distance.
Tasting her release was a baptism of fire. His demon instincts roared with fulfillment, yet his cock throbbed for relief.
When she pushed at his horns, he reluctantly drew back from his prize. How he kept from falling upon her again, he didn’t know.
He’d pleasured his female well, and it showed. Her eyes were bright, her skin flushed. His chest bowed with pride even as his body pained him beyond measure.
She wanted to touch him, had vocalized her wish. He rose to stand before her.
Reaching for his shirt, she unfastened a button, then another. When she opened his shirt, his raised glyphs burned, reflecting in her hooded gaze.
His brows drew tight. “Don’t know how long I can last. . . .” His cock was so swollen, she couldn’t get the ties of his pants loose. He slashed them open.
“Thanks.” She gave his pants a decisive yank, shoving them down his thighs. When his length sprang free above her lap, her eyes glittered as if with greed.
His lust-fogged mind couldn’t quite wrap around this. She took her time staring, and he let her look her fill, his shaft jerking under her gaze.
Don’t come! “I could go off just from your eyes upon me.” Clenching his jaw, he willed himself back from the brink. When she grasped him, his hips bucked uncontrollably. Her fingers were so pale against his demon skin.
Her soft palm roamed downward to his heavy balls. He opened his stance for her, choking back yells as she fondled his aching testicles, tugging on them, hefting them.
So close . . . He could easily come from this, but he must know what she had planned! If he could last long enough for her to reveal her intention, then he would know what had been going on in that mysterious mind of hers. . . .
“You need to sit.” She shoved against his chest, and he didn’t resist, collapsing back into the chair, his shaft bobbing. He maneuvered until he’d freed his trapped wings behind him.
What will she do?
She hopped from the table, then knelt on the floor between his legs.
He froze, scared to spook her. Had she . . . had his mate been thinking about sucking him?
“I’ve fantasized about what your skin would taste like.”
Gods almighty! Somehow he had the presence of mind to conjure a pillow under her knees.
She peered up at him with that soft look.
He was defenseless against it. “You look at me like that, and I grow as malleable as lava.”
“I’ll remember that.” Her voice was throaty from her screams. Her gaze raked over him, from his balls to his face. “I’d heard females fought over you.”
They used to. Until . . .
“I didn’t see why before.” Meeting his eyes, she said, “But now it’s so clear to me.”
He swallowed thickly. Lila . . .
Her attention dipped, then locked on his cock. The tip was wet, more moisture arising each time his shaft pulsed. She licked her lips for it.
Do—not—come. “I’m dreaming this. Have to be.”
“What would I do in your dreams?”
He cradled her ethereal face. “You would feel comfortable and go at your own pace. You would—”
Her tongue flicked his sensitive crown.
“—keepdoingthat, keepfuckingdoingthat!”
She did, wrenching a growl from his chest. Too soon, she drew back. “You even taste like fire.” She blew on the tip.
He shuddered with pain/pleasure.
She returned her mouth, enclosing the head with her lips, then began to dart her tongue.
It moved as quickly as the rest of her! “Lila,” he gasped when a deluge of little licks covered the crown. “Your tongue is . . . like a vibration. . . .”
Pausing, she murmured, “That a bad thing?”
He grated, “Fuck. No.” He drew his hands from her, gripping the chair. “Never felt . . . anything like it.”
She grinned up at him; he gaped down at her. She set back in.
“Fuuuuuck.” Her tongue made him twist. His instinct commanded him to thrust between those plump lips.
Her pink nails dug into his torso, reminding him to stay still. She was on fire, uninhibited. Lila was a gift. He could enjoy her innate passion for an eternity—if he didn’t do anything to dampen it.
With enough fire, even rock will melt. His firebrand burned so hot she could make even his stony heart soften and beat again.
Abyssian had teased her, holding all the cards. Turnabout’s a bitch. Now he was desperate to come, his every reaction giving her a toe-curling high.
When she licked the underside of his pierced shaft from the base to the crown, he bit out oaths. His mighty body quaked as she traced the slit of his cockhead with her tongue.
Her mouth against his heavy testicles stopped his breath. When she leaned down to nuzzle him there, unintelligible sounds left his lips.
Aside from power, she felt an overwhelming tenderness toward him, her husband.
This act would be between them alone.
He clutched the stone armrests, seeming determined not to touch her. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me!”
She had a good idea; his dick throbbed against her tongue. “Mmm. Your taste makes me crazy, demon.” Those hints of salt . . . she couldn’t get enough.
She fed on his raw reactions until her pussy ached. Needing to come again, she reached her free hand between her legs and rubbed her swollen clitoris. Her lids grew heavy.
“Fingering yourself? Now I know I’m . . . imagining all this.” His intensity warred with his vulnerability.
She had to slow her fingers, holding off the orgasm that threatened at any second. She drew him deeper into her mouth. When she sucked and licked at the same time, she watched in delight as his eyes rolled back in his head.
Helpless against pleasure—against her—his knees fell wide in surrender.
Sian wanted this never to end, but couldn’t withstand her kiss any longer. “About to come!”
She suckled him with greedy pulls, her lids fluttering. Her tongue lapped hungrily, her moans getting louder. Her arm twitched as she fingered herself.
“I-I’ll try to keep still, beauty.” As he fought not to buck his hips for more of the wet heat of her mouth, the stone in his grip started to crumble.
She took him deeper, drawing on his shaft till her cheeks hollowed.
Fuck, gods, FUCK! Each suck racked his body, a fresh torment.
She began to orgasm—and his shaft muffled her cries.
Done. “Defeated me, Lila. Coming. Coming. Coming! COMING!” He yelled so loud, the walls cracked. In his palms, the armrests disintegrated to sand.
Pulsations seized his cock over and over and over.
Pleasure rocked him. Ripped through him. Robbed him of all tension and concerns.
He floated while his mate still languidly kissed him. . . .
In time, he pulled her away, dragging her into his lap. With his legs sprawled and his body limp, he pressed kisses to her hair.
His culmination of the godsdamned ages had just shattered everything he thought he knew about sex.
She sighed. “I take it I did okay on my first attempt. Wait till I practice.”
“Little wife,” he groaned, “if you get any better at that, I’m a dead demon.”