When I find her clit, swollen and sensitive, I circle it with the tip of my tongue, applying just enough pressure to make her whimper. Then I suck it gently into my mouth, flicking my tongue against it in a rhythm that has her hands flying to my horns, gripping them for purchase.
“Oh gods,” she breathes, her hips jerking. “Thorne, please?—”
I hum against her, the vibration making her shudder. Then I release her clit to focus on her entrance, teasing her with shallow thrusts of my tongue, tasting her arousal as it increases.
Her thighs begin to shake on either side of my head, and I know she’s close. I return to her clit, sucking it more firmly now,and slide two fingers inside her at the same time. She’s tight and hot around them, her inner walls clenching as I crook my fingers to find that spot that makes her see stars.
When I find it, she cries out, her back arching off the bed. I press harder, working my fingers in and out while my tongue continues its relentless attention on her clit.
“Please,” she begs, voice breaking. “I need—I need?—”
I know what she needs. I curl my fingers more firmly, sucking her clit in rhythm with my thrusts, and she shatters. Her orgasm washes over her in waves I can feel around my fingers, her body clenching and releasing, her cries filling the room.
I work her through it, gentling my touch as she becomes too sensitive, pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs as she trembles with aftershocks.
When I finally raise my head, her eyes are closed, her chest heaving, her body lax with pleasure. She’s beautiful like this—undone, vulnerable, satisfied.
But not completely satisfied. Not yet.
I move up her body, positioning myself between her legs, the head of my cock nudging at her entrance. Her eyes flutter open, meeting mine, and the raw want I see there nearly undoes me.
“Yes,” she whispers, reaching for me. “Please, I need you inside me.”
I push forward slowly, watching her face as I enter her. The stretch of her around me is exquisite—like the perfect fit of two pieces of wood joined with precision, the grain aligning just so. She takes me inch by inch, her body accommodating my size in a way that feels like a miracle.
When I’m fully seated within her, I pause, savoring the sensation of her tight heat surrounding me. It’s like she was crafted specifically for me, every curve and hollow designed to match my dimensions.
The thought is dangerous. Too close to the feelings I’ve been fighting, the vulnerability I’ve been avoiding.
I’ve spent years building walls—physical ones in my workshop, emotional ones in my heart. I’m a solitary creature by nature, content with my own company, with the solid predictability of wood beneath my hands.
But Lena...Lena makes me want things I have no business wanting. Softness. Ease. A warmth in my chest that has nothing to do with physical pleasure and everything to do with the way she laughs, the way she challenges me, the way she fits in my life like she was always meant to be there.
It should terrify me. It should make me pull back, put distance between us.
Instead, I begin to move.
I start slow, long, deep thrusts that have her gasping, her nails digging into my shoulders. But I can’t maintain that pace for long. Not with the way she feels around me, the way she looks up at me with those dark eyes full of need.
“More,” she demands, wrapping her legs around my waist, taking me deeper. “Harder.”
I obey, increasing my pace, the headboard knocking against the wall with the force of my thrusts. Her breasts bounce with each impact, hypnotic in their movement, and I long to capture one nipple in my mouth. Instead, I palm the quaking mound, rolling the taut peak between my fingers.
She cries out, her inner walls clenching around me, and I growl. “Take it,” I command, my voice barely recognizable. “Take all of me. You do it so well, so perfectly.”
“Yes,” she gasps, meeting me thrust for thrust. “Yes, yes, yes?—”
I reach between us, finding her clit, circling it with my thumb as I pound into her. Her eyes widen, her breath coming in sharp pants.
“Come for me again,” I growl. “Let me feel you fall apart around me.”
Her body obeys, clenching tight around my cock as she comes with a broken cry. The sight of her—flushed, trembling, utterly undone—pushes me over the edge. My rhythm falters, my hips jerking as I spill inside her, filling her with my release until it overflows with each pump until finally—finally—I’m completely drained.
For long moments, we stay joined, our breathing harsh in the quiet room. Then, slowly, I withdraw from her, both of us groaning at the loss of connection.
I press a kiss to her forehead, her nose, her lips, then slide from the bed. She makes a small sound of protest, reaching for me, but I smile.
“Stay,” I tell her. “I’m going to get us breakfast.”
