Shadowglass (27 page)

Inch-deep water gushed, spilling down past me toward the gutter. Tingles swept my skin as the water drenched my wings, slid between my toes, around my clutching fingers, into my hair. I blissed out, desire melting deep into my guts. My own water splashed out to be lost in the deluge. I felt the rush in my mouth, my lungs, my blood, a rich drawing-out of current that teased my flesh into hot delight.

He hovered over me, an inch away, his body brushing mine with the lightest of touches, and his mouth sought mine with sweet reverence that sparked my desire hotter. He spread his wings over us in a glittering silver shelter, deflecting the raindrops in electric blue sizzles as he dragged his sharp wet hair over my throat, my chest, my breasts.

“No,” I murmured into his mouth, sliding his lips on mine, our breath mingling hot and sticky. “Don’t. I want to be drenched. Let me—Oh.”

He flashed back his wings and wrapped his tongue over my nipple. Tasting me, pleasuring me. Sensation stabbed straight to my sex. I groaned, the contact too much to bear and at the same time not enough. He sucked, and I arched my back, straining toward him. “Please. Touch me. I want to feel you. Please.”

A soft dark laugh sizzled my breast, and he shifted to my other nipple, kissing and licking and sucking it with the same slow torture as the first. Still his body barely touched mine. Avoided me as I wriggled to reach him, easily evaded my strength as I locked my hands behind his back and tried to pull him down onto me.

I shivered, afire. I was right. He’d take his time, and it might kill me.

He kissed his way down my body, trailing hot tingling bumps. Metal fangs grazed my hipbone, nibbled at my belly. His breath sizzled my wet skin. Anticipation clenched my inner muscles tight. God, I wanted his tongue inside me again. The flesh between my legs was slick and sore, begging for contact. My clit ached. I gave up trying to pull him onto me and just held him there, wrapping his sharp hair around my knuckles and urging him downward.

He lifted my sodden skirt and licked up the inside of my thigh, scenting me as he went. He parted my legs and sniffed me to drink in my flavour, and gave a fiery little groan that inflamed me. “You smell like sunshine. I’ve dreamed of your smell.” And he slid his tongue up my slit in one hot, loving stroke, and fastened his lips on my clit.

My knuckles ripped bloody in his hair, and I cried out. God, he felt so good. Last time was instinct, my flesh yearning for release. This was pure pleasure. He teased me with his lips, sucking, coaxing the hard little bit of flesh out of hiding, and when he tongued that sensitive exposed tip, I choked back a scream, the pleasure struck me so deep. I felt it all the way through my body to my fingertips, like that very first wash of orgasm—only it wouldn’t break, wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t let me go. My nerves thrummed with excruciating delight. My skin crackled with his sparks, and the water gushing over my skin only made it feel better.

I squirmed my head from side to side, hair sticking to my cheeks in the rain. My heart shone, so drugged with pleasure that I glowed, the water around me shining blue. Maybe I was foolish. Maybe I only imagined myself in love with him. But my body responded to him like I’d always imagined it would, every kiss and caress and lick of his tongue inflamed hotter and brighter not only because he treated me with honesty and delicacy and skill, but also because it was him doing it. I’d never felt anything like this. He deserved to know that. I tried to talk, but my words came out in a tortured groan. “Stop it. I want to make love with you. Please.”

He just pressed harder, sweeter, slipping his tongue over me in tiny circles and swirls that dragged my pleasure to an even tighter peak. My bones shuddered, and I think I screamed, and then he sucked me deep into his mouth one more time and I was gone, over the edge, crashing like a waterfall to splash into delicious heaven. Hot ripples of pleasure slammed into me like a shock wave again and again, spilling out from his mouth on my sex to my spinal cord to explode on my skin in fevered shivers. He prolonged it with his tongue, exquisite, not letting me go until every last spasm wrung from my muscles and I fell limp.

I gasped for breath, my body shaking. Christ in a cream cheese sauce. That wasn’t an orgasm. That was the apocalypse. The world had ended. I was dead.

But I wasn’t. If I were dead, the kisses he was lavishing on my taut wet flesh wouldn’t feel so good. He liked doing that, kissing me there like it was my mouth, caressing me with his lips, delving his tongue between my folds. He licked me once again, and my swollen clit protested, too sensitive. I jerked, helpless, and with a final reluctant kiss he let me go.

He climbed up my body, sliding at last over me, his weight light and metal-strong. I fumbled to undo his shirt and scraped the sodden black fabric away so I could feel his smooth flesh on mine, and when our bodies touched, skin at last on naked skin, delicious fire scorched my blood. He kissed me, deep and hard, our tongues mixing, the pollen taste of my fluid like roses in his mouth. I didn’t usually like that, the taste of my own arousal. On him, it intoxicated me.

I slid my hands over the taut curve of his ass and wrapped my thighs around his hips, popping my joints to pull him closer. My skirt was rumpled and I pressed my bare flesh against him, still so sensitive, it hurt. His cock felt smooth and steely, and desperately I wormed my hands between us to search for the buttons on his rain-soaked jeans. They popped open one by one, and his cock sprang into my hand, hot and hard and slick already from the rain.

My flesh jerked in anticipation. Gosh. So taut, so swollen in my palm. So real and heated, that grating metal sound he made in his throat when I stroked him.

I wanted. I needed him now. Trembling, I stretched my thighs higher around him and guided him, slid him over me, panted as I pressed him against my aching clit—oh, god, again, just a little more—and then my swollen wet folds and finally searching deeper, to push him into me where he belonged.

He gasped, and stopped me with his hand on mine. “Ice . . . wait . . . you still don’t understand.”

Shit. Now he wants to talk.
My body ached with frustration. The tip of his cock brushed me lightly, right where it felt so good, and I shuddered. My entrance clenched, searching hungrily for him, wanting to suck that hard twist of flesh deep inside, and it was all I could do not to force myself onto him. The world’s first female fairy rapist. Classy.

“What is it?” I buried my face in his metal hair, glorying in the sting, and slid a desperate kiss up to his sleek pointed ear, nibbling on the tip. His cock swelled even tighter in my hand, and he groaned, jerking, slipping just that little farther into me.
Oh, yeah.
“You nervous? Me, too. It’s okay.” I chewed his earlobe, eliciting a sweet gasp and a shudder. “Or you like boys? I won’t tell. If you’re gonna come too soon . . .” I swallowed raindrops from his taut blue neck, the rich steely taste of him running down my throat. Tingling swept my tight flesh, wrenching me closer to the edge, hot hungry teeth gnawing deep inside me. I gasped, tortured. My wetness slid so, so easily over him. God, I wanted him inside me. “Doubt it. I’m sure we can—”

“Sometimes I’m not myself.” He clenched his hand tighter on mine, forcing me to wait. “I might hurt you.”

Fever just burned brighter in my veins, and the rainwater glowed neon blue. An inch from fucking me senseless, and he actually cares if he hurts me. How hopelessly romantic is that?

My muscles clenched with longing even as hot tears stung my eyes yet again, washed away by the slashing rain. I’m moved by such pitiful things. But I can’t help it. He overflows me. He’s too much for me.

I twisted my hand in his grip, fumbling to get him inside me. My breath quickened, harsh, raindrops stinging on my tongue. “Then hurt me. I don’t care. I can take it. I just want to be yours.”

“No. This is for you.” And he swept us a few feet into the air with a silver flash of wings, his arm around my waist gently turning me over and laying me facedown in the sloshing runoff.

Water caressed my face, rich with iron and dust, just like him. He lighted onto my back, his hips pressing into mine, his cock slipping hard against my bottom and sliding between my thighs. Anticipation shivered my wing bones. I’d had a dream like this, and I’d come in my sleep without a touch. Would he do it like that? God, I hoped so. I parted my lips to let glorious water run into my mouth. “Kiss me. Please, kiss me.”

He laid his palms on the iron either side of my head so he wouldn’t squash me, and dipped his hot lips to my shoulder. Warm delight shivered down my back. He licked me, caressing me with molten kisses down my spine, between my trembling wing joints. The taut skin there yearned erect and quivered for his tongue, hard like my nipples. He found my wetness with his cock, slid over me, pressed against me right where I wanted him so bad, it hurt. My flesh constricted, tight. I gripped his wrists, one smooth, one metal-clad, and pressed my burning cheek to the iron roof.

He wrapped his tongue around the sensitive place where wing met shoulder. I gasped, shuddering. It felt so good, so gentle, so sweet. My thighs trembled, tingling. And then he sucked the joint right into his mouth and pushed into me.

Hot. Hard. Deep. Perfect. I whimpered at the sensation, his sigh of pleasure burning my shoulder, the warm iron roof pressing into my breasts, his smooth cock sliding into me, pushing my wet walls apart. Deliciously hard. I was so tight and swollen it hurt, glorious, unwilling muscles stretching. He pulled out a little and drove back in, harder, deeper, stifling a groan. Pain stabbed, the constriction in my muscles too much. But delight flamed more intensely than the pain. I bit my lip on a cry, blood stinging my tongue.

He flitted his wings softly, silver shimmering in reflection on the sheeting water. The shape of him filling me, rubbing his cock against secret sweet places inside me, spiked shivering delight deep into my bones. He brushed his cheek on my shoulder, his breath tight. “You okay with this?”

“I’m so much better than okay.” My voice trembled. My muscles clenched inside, rippling over him.
God, I’m gonna come just lying here.

He rocked against me, moving inside me, and with every movement he caressed me with his lips and tongue, right where it made my skin shiver. My eyes slid closed, and the world dissolved into a shimmering wet haze of delight. A pleasured sigh escaped me, and I let my head stretch back, hair dripping, my face exposed to the rain. He bit me softly, sucking, teasing his sharp teeth over my sensitive flesh until I moaned and wriggled, my pleasure rising too fast. He used the entire length of his cock to pleasure me, pushing into my deepest center and then pulling back until he was barely inside me at all. And then he’d enter me all over again, parting me and pushing deep inside. God, I loved that part, the moment when it goes in. How did he know that?

He groaned against me, slicking his cheek against my sodden wing. He eased into me, luxuriant, deep, and my flesh tingled and tensed. Static rippled across my back, and his wet hair tumbled on my cheek as his teeth grazed my shoulder. He gasped, and his cock swelled inside me, our fairy flesh melting together in hot delight.

Pleasure dazzled me breathless. He felt so good, so right. We fit so well. Sensation took root and flowered all over my body, so beautiful, I whimpered, unable to stop what was happening to me. “God, I love you.”

He groaned and thrust deeper, quivering against my back in his pleasure, and as he seated himself fully, his hot iron breath exploded in a rush on my shoulder. “And I love you, beautiful girl.”

That was enough. My hardened flesh spasmed, and orgasm tore me from inside like a blade. Harder, faster than the last, like hot wires sparking with his static deep under my skin, dragging pleasure from my center until I couldn’t breathe. He moved with my body, pressed me tight to him, let me come on him, my muscles clamping on the hard twist of his cock. My claws dug into his wrists, drawing silvery blood. His arm muscles juddered, and he gasped with the effort of holding himself back.

I pushed my hips back onto him, helpless, my pleasure not done. Already another spasm built inside me. He licked my ear, brushed his lips down my cheekbone, sought my mouth over my shoulder to kiss me. His mouth tasted of iron and rain. His whisper sizzled my cheek, molten, laced with urgent coppery desire. “I can’t do this much longer. I want to kiss you. I want to see your face.”

Swiftly he slipped himself from me and rolled me over, flicking rusty water from his wings. After his body, the rain-soaked iron chilled my back. I gazed up at him, enraptured. So beautiful, the midnight curves of his slender fae chest, his narrow blue hips, the lovely intricate fae shape of his cock, still slick with my juices. Lightning crashed, illuminating his jagged dark hair with a halo of gold.

I swallowed. Even for a few seconds, the loss of him inside me was unbearable. I reached for him and pulled him down to me, and he gripped my thighs in both hands and slid back inside with a deep metal sigh.

I cried out as he took me, my breath forcing out in a rush. God, he felt so good. As if I’d forgotten already what he felt like, and it was the first time all over again. Sensation spread, delicious, sparkling in my belly like hot diamonds. I groaned, overcome. He worked me again, his cock so smooth and hard like steel and fitting me perfectly deep inside, my curves and ripples hugging him. He took me hard, urgent. My nipples rubbed against his chest, friction hardening them to stinging pebbles, and I gasped, moisture splashing from me to soak him all over again. “Yes. Like that.”

Metal screeched as he crunched his copper claws into the roof iron either side of my head. His chameleon eyes glinted silver and violet, and he pushed into me harder, deeper. I sighed with each thrust, my breath forced away. Before, he was gentle, sensual, spine-shivering. Now, his delicious silvery sweat stung me, and his hot steel scent dizzied me, and the pleasure of his flesh meeting mine slammed deep inside me like nothing I’d felt before. Sex with Blaze was feversweet and giggly. Kane was just plain weird. This . . . this was something more. Raw. Delicious. Nerve-tingling. Frightening. Not just that our bodies liked each other, fit together like magnets. I felt him. My eyes fluttered closed from the breathless delight of us.