Her pupils expand. “For me, or for you?”
“Both. It seeks out the electrical impulses of nerve endings and?—”
Amara gently touches the writhing appendage. It sucks onto the end of her finger, and her lips form a silent, ‘oh’. “I think I’m going to enjoy that,” she says.
In an attempt to remain calm, I start speaking. “I have little control over what it doe?—”
Shockwaves of pleasure surge through me and cut off my speech as Amara wraps her hand around my cock. I grit my teeth and tense to avoid climaxing right then. It is too much. Too good. I want more and less at the same time. My vision narrows, and I hiss out a breath.
Her hand looks small but feels massive as she strokes me from crown to root. The combination of vulnerability and pleasure tugs at my very soul. I have never been so exposed. So vulnerable. Entirely at the whim of another. My legs shake, and I have to steady myself with a hand on her shoulder.
She flashes me a pleased smile and raises a second hand to join the first. A roaring fire consumes my skin. I am coming undone. Breaking at the seams. Falling apart in her hands.My hips buck involuntarily as my virga latches onto the space between her knuckles.
I move to meet her strokes, every second building a blissful tension as I reach the space between torment and rapture.
Is it supposed to feelthisgood?
A flash of pink is all the warning I get before her small, soft tongue swirls over the head of my cock, sweeping up the beads of precum she has coaxed from me. Throbbing, pulsating euphoria forces an urgent cry from my lungs.
Smoldering eyes meet mine as she wraps her perfect lips around the head of my cock, and takes me into her mouth.
Gods.
I whimper, unable to speak in the throes of near ecstasy. She swirls her tongue. Hollows her cheeks. Moves with abandon. I have never experienced anything?—
I have to slow her pace.
Knitting my fingers into her hair, I try to slow her speed, but it does nothing to calm the building pressure. I am too close. Her hands work the base of my shaft, moving in tandem with her mouth. The sight of her rosy cheeks and stretched lips imprints into the marrow of my bones. A sight I will never forget.
Tension builds in my groin, squeezing through my center.
“Zet naklá,” I beg, “zarpulá.” I am completely at her mercy, praying she does not stop. Oh gods, do not let her stop.
My hand loosens in her hair as the pleasure builds past the point I thought possible. Fear begins to grip me. It is too much. Too good.
She plunges forward, taking more of me into her mouth until I doubt she can breathe. Her eyes do not leave mine. I am falling into their depths. She swallows around me, squeezing me with the back of her throat, and she moans.
I break. My muscles tremble. A whimper escapes me. Andthe pleasure takes over. Wave after wave of my pulsing release hits her throat, and I watch in absolute astonishment as she gulps it down with hungry abandon.
The moment her lips release me, I am little more than a trembling mess, ready to collapse. But her tongue flicks out, and, still holding my gaze, she carefully laps up my length, cleaning away the evidence of the power she wields over me.
I sink to my knees and take her face in my hands, kissing her like it is the last thing I will ever do, tasting myself on her tongue and groaning at the shocking intimacy of it.
“Tir’rek tak ennivegit, a vek verla jahv’nek,” I whisper, holding her face and speaking the words of my ancestors. Words that have not been spoken for generations. Words that barely convey the truth that burns in my chest.
Her eyes bounce back and forth between mine, the question in them clear.
27
NOT A PRIZE
AMARA
VEXAR’S BLACK EYES swirl with some shimmering emotion that I can’t quite name. Something between rapture and devastation. Then he translates the words he spoke. “I am yours eternally, and open to you always.”
Our connection seems to vibrate with the unspoken significance of what he said, and yet, I have no idea what that significance is. “There’s more to those words, isn’t there?” I say.
He presses a kiss to my lips, steps out of his pants, and pulls me onto the bed with him, curling around me like a giant shield. His breath warms the back of my ear as he says, “They are words that have not been spoken in a very, very long time.”
