I can’tbreathewithout it.
My hands travel down his broad shoulders, finding the buttons as he continues to lavish my breast with his swirling tongue. My own want, my demanding desire, pulls at his shirt and buttons pop.
Laughing, he lifts his face.
And my heart threatens to stop with the sight of him, my ribs squeezing tight.
“Always impatient,” he teases in a low drawl.
Notalways.
Justoften.
Amused excitement sparks through his eyes and he holds my stare as he removes his shirt and casts it aside. My breathing shallows, my heart pounding as I stare at this beautiful, dark, powerful fae.
He’s right.
An eternity of this still won’t be enough.
“Are you telling me you’d like to take your time in claiming what belongs to you?” I tease in return.
Something in those molten gold eyes snaps and his breathing becomes ragged. His hands tear at the waistband of my pants and with a bit of help from me, he flings them aside.
As I move to sit beside him, he stands, illuminating the muscled planes of his chest in the afternoon sun. I stare, openly, at the beauty of his body, the wicked grin on his face feeding my feverish anticipation and lust. His trousers fall to the ground, revealing the thick, proud length of him and I slowly drag my eyes up to his.
I want all of him.
Every fucking inch.
I need to fuck him until we’re both left screaming our release.
“On your hands and knees, little love,”he says, lowering himself to his knees beside me.
Too eagerly, I listen.
And too eagerly he lies upon his back, cradling himself between my legs. With a gentle nudge, he urges my legs wider, and pulls my hips down to him. The instant his velvet tongue makes its firstslow, arduous stroke, I let out a long revelrous moan.
Good gods, I’m going to shatter into stardust.
How easily this creature undoes me.
Hips moving in time with his skilled tongue, my fingers curl into the moss and dirt. The sight of his dark head between my legs leaves me completely and utterly drunk.
“I want to hear you.”His deep voice unfurls in my mind as I ride his face, climbing higher on my shimmering ecstasy.
“Work for it, nyraphim.”I pair the thought with well-earned moans.
The challenge proves easy for Ryc, and in a few skillful swirls of his tongue my moans turn to throaty cries. He continues as I’m dragged through pulsing waves of pleasure, of rapture, of euphoria, struggling to keep myself from collapsing.
Prying himself from beneath me to position himself behind me, his broad hands find my hips and his cock nudges at the apex of my thighs.
“Again.”He demands.
The combination of his low voice and the anticipation of him leaves me utterly dazed, unable to focus on anything other than the enraptured release coursing through my veins.
With an antagonistic slowness, he flexes his hips, burying himself just enough for me to gasp, but immediately withdraws—nearly entirely. Not wanting him to leave, I sink my hips onto him and he groans, pitching himself over me as I slide to his hilt. He presses a kiss to my shoulder, thrusting deeper, earning a soft cry from me. As he slowly withdraws, a hand works into my hair, gripping it in a tight fist.
He starts slow, gentle, his grip tightening on my hip, pulling me into him. My fingers tear at the moss, leaving behind evidence of our tryst and my back arching to allow for deeper strokes. I match each pounding thrust and I’m reduced to gasping in pleasure as his hips grow faster, rougher.
