I pull them both off with one hasty, clumsy tug, the cool air of my nest hitting my heated sex and making me suck in a breath.
He strokes his thumb between my folds and groans. “Fuck, you’re so wet, darling.”
“All for you,” I promise in a breathy voice.
He traces a light touch from my clit to my core then sinks two fingers into me.
I let out a moan, watching him as he watches me. He pumps his fingers into me, knuckles brushing my sensitive back wall, each thrust hitting my estrus gland and making me cry out.
He kisses me as he fucks his fingers into me, my lips, my jaw, my neck—licking and sucking until I’m so wound up, I’m rocking against his fingers. He sucks one nipple between his lips, laving his tongue over the peak. Desire curls tight in my belly and he lets out a low chuckle when I all but mewl for him.
“One day, I’m going to make you cum just by sucking on these pretty pink nipples while I fuck you with my fingers,” he promises, and I moan because, saints, I’m already close.
But it’s his mouth against my needy sex I’m most desperate for, and he doesn’t make me wait. He kisses my mound softly then sinks his tongue between my folds, moaning when my taste hits his tongue.
He hitches one of my legs over his shoulder and holds me open, my sex bared to him, every inch of me revealed.
Ian looks at me like I’m the most remarkable thing in all of creation, leaning back to take me in for a moment before setting his lips to my sex, laving his tongue over my clit in long strokes that make me scream.
He picks up the rhythm of his fingers in my cunt, changing the angle until every thrust drags against my back wall while the tips of his fingers tease that spot along my front wall that makes me blind with pleasure.
He sucks my clit between his lips, and I’m gone.
I come with a scream, sinking my hands in his hair, trying to escape his tongue when it becomes too much, but he holds me still, licking and sucking until I fly over my peak again, stretching me with a third finger until I’m letting out sharp little cries, until I crash again.
He lets me down slowly, sweet touches and kisses along the insides of my thighs, my hips, my belly, until finally, I sag back against the mattress of my nest, utterly spent but wanting him still.
“Saints, you’re beautiful when I make you cum,” he praises, and I tug him down to the mattress, roll him onto his back and show him just how much his approving words turn me on. I sink down to the growing flare of his knot with little prelude, letting out a hiss of pleasure as he stretches me even more than his fingers did.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, just… fuck.”
“You’re normally so erudite,” I tease, rocking slowly.
“Brat, don’t make me put you over my knee.”
Oh. My jaw falls open as my cunt clenches tightly around him. I never thought I’d be into a dominant alpha. Simon’s dominance always felt safe, a sexy game, but Ian… he feels just as safe. “Fuck,” I mutter, leaning down to kiss him. “Just… fuck. Let’s do that sometime.”
“My darling, we can do whatever you want, whenever you want. But if you don’t move, I’m going to lose my mind.”
“Yes, you are,” I promise, rocking slowly, bouncing on my knees enough to work him into the same feverish spiral of dizzying need consuming me. He takes my hands in each of his to support me and I move.
I moan with each down thrust, and when his thumb finds my clit, I scream. When I squeeze around him, when I clench tight as I fuck him, he comes with a groan, coating my insides in hot cum, and only then do I ease down on his knot, letting out a low whine of pleasure as it stretches me.
When he’s locked inside me, he flips me onto my back, hips circling in shallow thrusts that rock his knot inside me and make me spasm around his thick length.
“Scream for me when you come, my good little darling,” he whispers in my ear, tweaks one of my nipples, and I do exactly as he says.
He holds me close as we both come down from our pleasure, touching every inch of me he can, whispering sweet praise in my ear.
We fall asleep, still knotted together, soaking in the bliss of being in each other’s arms, skin to skin.
I wake to a low growl, to him tossing and turning in my nest beside me, clutching his arm where his ember lies.
“Ian,” I say softly. I repeat his name until his eyes flick open, wide and frantic. Tears streak down his cheeks as he blinks away whatever terrorized him, but I can still see his pulse racing in his neck, can hear how fast his heart hammers when I wrap myself around him, my head over his heart.
I hold him, stroking my fingers through his hair, dropping sweet kisses on his forehead, his nose, each of his cheeks, and then finally, his lips. I brush away his tears.
I tell him I love him.
