Melek cursed and, wrapping me in both arms, lifted us both without leaving my body. When he stood, I had nothing to hold onto, no leverage at all. But he caught me, one hand laying up mysternum to flatten between my breasts and hold me safe as he turned us around.
Moments later I was pressed over the back of the chair, my mate’s teeth on my neck, his body pinning me against the wide leather. I reached forward instinctively to catch myself, my hands planted on the seat of the chair as Melek rolled into me again, then nipped the lobe of my ear.
“Are you ready?”
“For wh-what?”
“I’m going to roar soon. But you will first.”
Then he straightened.
My back, sheened in sweat, was suddenly cold, but his hand splayed at the base of my spine, then pressed down, down, down, towards the base of my neck, stopping between my shoulder blades, and pinning me against the chair.
I gasped when he thrust so hard his thighs slapped. Then he did it again, and it was all I could do not to cry out.
“So quiet tonight,” he rasped, then thrust again.
“The… the servants!”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about the servants,” he snarled.
Then he began to pound.
Pleasure exploded within me as he reached deeper and deeper. The chair bumped and jumped in rhythm, the leather teasing my nipples as my breasts bobbed.
“Melek…Melek!”
He grunted and growled, one hand still planted between my shoulder blades, the other dragging up the back of my leg to leave a tingling trail on my skin, only to tease my inner thigh with twirling fingers that made me ache and gasp and widen my knees to give him better access.
“Come for me, Yilan,” he growled.
In this position, he couldn’t reach between my legs. Yet, his thundering pleasure pushed me higher and higher. But evenas my body jangled and thrummed, I couldn’t quite reach that peak.
I wanted… Ineeded…
With a puttering snarl, Melek released my back and grabbed my hips. When he pulled all the way out of me, I whimpered and tried to reach for him. But he flipped me over and pulled me up, so I sat on the back of the chair, facing him—and my eyes widened.
He was slick and snarling, a bead of sweat at his temples, every muscle tense and tight, veins popping in his arms, the tendons on his neck standing proud.
Grasping the back of my knee, he yanked me forward onto him, and for a moment I flailed, convinced I was about to fall—but he leaned in, taking me, then thrusting again, and again, his eyes glazed and hooded, my name on his lips.
“Lean… back,” he rasped. “All the way.”
Quivering with need, I hooked my heels at his back and arched back, dragging my hands down his chest, then his abs, then to where we joined. Melek cupped my thigh and held my knee out, holding my hip on the other side and guiding me onto him again and again, his eyes like heated fingers on my skin, trailing over my throat, my bouncing breasts, then watching himself take me.
“Shit…Shit.”
“Come for me, Melek,” I whispered, knowing he was watching as I dipped my fingers against my most heated flesh, and then began to touch myself.
“SHIT.”
“Come for me. I want to watch you fall apart.”
His breath came in heaving rasps. Teeth bared, he stared down at me with eyes bright with lust.
“Yilan—”
“Come for me.”The problem was, the touching was working, and every new sight of his trembling body, his immense strength, the sound of his body slapping against mine, his guttural voice ragged with hunger… It all pressed me closer and closer too.
