Authors: Kresley Cole
He raised his head. “Though I’d wanted to impregnate you so you’d feel bound to me, I can’t lie. I scent you’re in season. It’s waned, but still there.”
“Then our already slim odds waned too.” She pressed her lips to his neck, then his jawline, then to the corner of his mouth. “You amaze me, Thronos. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to your honesty.”
“You’re going to have to. Because I’m about to marry you.” Season or not, she still wanted this. He turned to slant his mouth over hers.
Lanthe’s lips parted, welcoming his tongue as it slipped toward hers. She loved how leisurely he took their kisses, working the slow build—despite the tension in his massive body.
Despite the scorching hardness of his shaft beneath her ass.
As they tangled tongues, he reached higher between her thighs, his fingers trailing upward. There was something so erotic about wearing his shirt, his hand moving unseen beneath the fabric.
Against her lips, he rasped, “Need to get you ready.”
Seeing his gorgeous physique in that towel had already primed her pump. But who was she to disappoint the Vrekener? “I told you: I look at your body and mine grows wet for it. Anything else will be a bonus.” She spread her thighs for him.
He took the invitation, gently cupping her sex, pressing the heel of his hand against her sensitive clitoris.
With his other hand he started to rub her stiffened nipples, one, then the other.
Lightly pinching. Thumbing the very tip. Rolling each peak between his fingers . . .
When he dipped down to suckle her through the fabric, she gasped, threading her fingers in his damp hair. With each pull of his lips, she arched to him for more.
“Love suckling you. Could do it for hours.”
She was moaning when he moved to her other nipple, his breaths hot against the sensitive tip. As he sucked, he eased his finger inside her, groaning to find her so aroused.
The electricity that always sparked between them grew like a lightning storm. His finger was just a tease, a precursor to the delight she’d almost experienced with Thronos before—when he’d started to wedge his huge shaft into her.
At the thought, she rocked to meet his thrusting finger, her ass rubbing over the hardness she’d soon enjoy.
He grated, “This will be over before it starts.”
She was ready for him. She cupped the back of his neck. “Then get inside me. Quick, before something interrupts our wedding.”
His brows shot up. “My thoughts exactly.” He moved her from his lap, laying her back on the bed. Once he’d stripped her of the shirt, he dropped his towel, revealing that mouthwatering erection.
She took her time admiring all seven feet of his warrior’s body. His wings were unfurled, her demon’s sexy backdrop. His horns had gone ramrod straight.
When he’d run those lengths against her before, her sex had clenched in reaction. He’d marked her with his scent—and she’d loved it. She wanted to kiss and stroke those horns. Then lick his firm lips. And his flat nipples. She wanted to run her mouth along the rigid edges of his pec muscles before following his goodie trail down. . . .
What was her type?
Voilà.
He moved to kneel between her legs. Because they were about to do this. Without protection.
Her biological clock was screaming:
Roll. The. Dice.
Yet then he spread that sheet over her. It was about eight feet square, with a strategically placed slit. The politics of this rankled. She didn’t get contraception, but he got this barrier?
No, no, this was important to him. Her self-help books told her compromise was vital to a developing relationship.
Then she lit on an idea, a way for them both to be happy with the sheet; she decided to play along for now.
As he aligned the opening with her sex, he asked, “Are you sure you’re ready?”
“If you go slow.”
He levered himself above her, resting on one straightened arm. “Slow?” His gaze fell upon her nipples jutting against the sheet. “I fear I won’t last. I’ve craved you for too long.” With his free hand, he gripped himself, aiming for the sheet’s gap.
She rested her hands on his broad shoulders as she awaited that first contact. When the bulbous head bumped right at her hungry core, she
moaned in readiness. “I might not last long either!” Blue sorcery shimmered from her hands, tendrils of it swathing them.
He hissed in a breath, determinedly pressing against her. “My sensual sorceress.” He gazed down with possessiveness ablaze in his expression.
His silver eyes were telling her he was about to claim her, that nothing could stop him.
When he’d raised himself up on both arms, she kneaded his shoulders. “Can you feel how slick I am? How wet for you?”
“Lanthe . . .”
“When we were in the glade, I imagined what your shaft would feel like plunging inside me.” Her words were throaty. “Tonight you’ll show me.”
A shudder strangled whatever he’d been about to say.
His unpracticed reactions, the
honesty
of his responses, ratcheted up her arousal to a shocking degree.
Honesty was a turn-on. Who knew?
Subtly rocking to his pulsing rod, she murmured, “You couldn’t be sexier, Thronos.”
He canted his head, as if he didn’t believe her. But whatever he saw in her eyes convinced him otherwise. Whatever he saw made his shuddering grow worse.
By the time he’d planted the crown inside, he was sweating. His voice broke lower as he said, “You’re so tight around me. Never knew you’d be so hot.” The wonder in his tone made her toes curl.
The sheet rose and fell with her shallow breaths. She arched her back so that her nipples strained against the material, which seemed to bespell him more than the nymphs had. “Don’t you want to bare my breasts at least?”
The dilemma was clear on his face. He finally tugged down the sheet just past her breasts. “Too lovely to cover.”
And she lost a little bit more of her heart to him.
Eyes rapt on the pebbled tips, he licked his sensual lips. He’d expressed a particular pleasure in suckling her. If he did now, this might truly be over before it started. To distract him, she rolled her hips—
Which impaled his shaft even deeper.
She gasped at the sudden fullness; he grunted,
“Tight.”
His gradual pace was the only reason she hadn’t cried out. “Slow is good, Thronos.”
With a solemn nod, he fed her sheath more of his throbbing length. Already he waged an obvious battle not to come. His wings were furling and unfurling like a fist opening and closing. Sweat slicked the breathtaking swells of his brawny chest, the rippling muscles of his rock-hard torso.
As he sank ever deeper, a drop of his clean sweat splatted over one of her swollen breasts, making her shiver—and undermining her own control.
“Sorry,” he bit out.
“For driving me crazy?” She cupped his nape, arching up to graze her breasts across his chest—sending the sheet to her waist, sending him deeper inside her.
“I feel your nipples . . . so stiff . . .
ah, gods
—” His hips bucked forward in an uncontrollable rush, till he was seated deep within her, a growl wrenched from his lungs.
Her own lungs were squeezed for breath. His body was inside her, surrounding her, seeming to vibrate from his struggle to regain the control he’d lost.
“Lanthe! I didn’t mean—have I hurt you?”
She wriggled beneath him, adjusting to his length. “Just give me a second.” Deep within her, she could perceive his cock pulsating to the beat of his heart. His invincible heart. “I’m good, Thronos. All good.”
He clasped her face in his big hands, touching her with
reverence.
“I just wed you,” he rasped, making her melt.
I’ve waited my entire life to see that look.
“Since I’m also engaged in the act”—she shimmied beneath him, eliciting a groan—“I’d say we just wed each other.”
With a pained smile, he grated, “That sounds fairer.”
She couldn’t stop grinning back at him. As if they’d pulled off a stupendous achievement. Which, she supposed, they had.
But their amusement receded when he began to withdraw. The friction of his cock and that flared crown wrested a plaintive cry from her.
Before he gave his first thrust, he said, “Ready?”
She nodded.
When he tilted his hips forward, he threw his head back, the muscles of his neck bulging. “My Lanthe!” Then he faced her once more, to gaze at her—with awe.
He was still swelling inside her, much more than she’d expected. Apparently, he was a show-er
and
a grower. She did her best to stifle a wince. Brave little soldier, and all that.
Lanthe had always thought the term
joined
was hyperbole in a sexual sense. Now, so much of his body was within hers, she
did
feel joined to him. If she could just get herself accustomed . . . “Stir yourself in me.”
“Stir?” He circled his hips, grinding against her sensitive clitoris.
“Oh,
yes.
” Pleasure seared her with the intensity of flames.
A sharp exhalation escaped him.
Puh.
His expression was thunderstruck.
In the quiet of the night, his heart pounded like a drum. His wings were stretched wide, the pulselines glowing like shooting stars from the diadem above.
His starry eyes, gazing down at her, outshone them all.
He stirred himself again, stretching her, filling her thoroughly. Bliss suffused her, warmth coursing throughout every inch of her. She felt brimming with him, with emotions.
Replete.
But her emotions confused her. Amid the tenderness she felt for him, she also experienced gratitude, relief—and even
joy.
With her hands meeting around his nape, she murmured, “Thronos . . .”
I’m yours. You’re mine. You confuse me. This confuses me.
She hadn’t even orgasmed, and it was the best sex she’d ever had. Never had sex felt like coming home to someone.
Like she was being showered with fate’s gold coins.
He laid his big palm on the side of her face. “I don’t recognize . . .
what your expression’s telling me,” he admitted in a gravelly voice. “But I think I like it.”
“I’m trying to tell you a thousand things at once. I’m telling you I’m ready—to be taken by you.” Not only was she accustomed to him; his cock now felt so critical that she wondered how she’d survived without it. “I’ll give you anything you need.” Her hands moved to his ass, digging into the flexing muscles. “Do you need to thrust?”
“By all the gods,
yes.
” He drew his hips back, sinking himself more slowly.
Ecstasy surged inside her. Her lids fluttered as she moaned.
Another painstaking thrust. “Is it always like this, Lanthe?”
“Emphatically no.” She couldn’t stop writhing on his hardness, wanting ever more of it. “More, Thronos!”
“The way you move . . .
maddening.
” He clamped her restless hips, his body driving forward. Then again. Each time he hit the end of her sheath, her clitoris got a shot of delicious stimulation. Her orgasm mounted.
“You’re squeezing me so tight.” His pace quickened. “I can’t hold out!”
“No, don’t come,” she said, feeling her sorcery rising. “I won’t let you.” The air blurred near her lips.
Had she just used her power on him?
He thrust hard, groaning as if in pain.
“Lanthe . . .”
His skin sheened with sweat, his muscles corded. Just looking at him like this—her steady Vrekener in the throes, a massive warrior about to unleash centuries of need—brought her right to the edge.
She was going to come for this male, and she could almost fear the intensity of the escalating pleasure.
“Need to . . . thrust harder. Can’t go slow.”
“Don’t. Take me as you need to.”
With a groan, he shoved into her body. Again. And again, until he was railing between her legs, to her delight. His hands dipped beneath her, his remaining claws biting into the curves of her ass—a primal sign of possession that sent her spiraling.
So close, so close.
He gave a frustrated yell, confusion flashing in his eyes. “Lanthe, I
can’t
come.”
“I might have . . . commanded you.” Though she’d been tripping headlong toward her climax, she sucked in a breath and resisted it, wanting to torment them both.
“Undo it!” His tendons stood out with strain, his mighty body toiling to free its seed.
“Hmm. We’re going to have such fun tonight. . . .”