Why I do what I do.
It’s my northern star.
“You knowIcan help you paint the walls,” Daegel murmurs and slaps the washed bird into the pan with herbs and butter. He turns it once, coating it in fat, then sets the pan beside the simmering pot. He comes to stand so close to me I can feel the heat from his body. Goose bumps skitter along my skin. “Or I can get the fae artisans who did my place to come here and do yours. They’re the best in the business. You don’t need Roman for that.”
I bat my eyelashes innocently. “Oh? So, apart from being an amazing cook, you’re also a talented painter?” Daegel archesan eyebrow. “Damn, you’re definitely the favorite of the gods, mister?—”
A giggle escapes me when Daegel grabs my hips, and he hoists me on top of the counter. I spread my thighs to make space for him. And he fills that space nicely.
My core throbs with the need and I bite my bottom lip.
“That clever tongue of yours will get you in trouble one day, princess.”
Humming, I lean forward. With my tongue, I trace the line along his neck until I reach his earlobe. A breath hitches in his throat.
Into his ear, I whisper, “I must disagree. So far, this clever tongue has served me well enough.”
When I nibble on his earlobe, his fingers dig into my thighs.
“Wouldn’t you agree?” I kiss the line of his jaw until I reach his lips. We’re inches away. “Do you need a reminder of just how good that clever tongue feels?”
The only answer I get is a groan. Meeting Daegel’s gaze, I slide off the counter. My hips brush past his. He’s already hard.
Our gazes locked, I lower myself to my knees in front of him. I lean against the counter behind my back and quickly work to unbutton his leathers. I shove his pants down his hips and his hard cock springs to life.
My mouth waters at the sight of his hardness as I take him into my palm and give him a few slow, gentle strokes.
Daegel exhales. His eyes darken, but he keeps them open. On me.
I take my time with him. I want every second to stretch for as long as possible. I want Daegel panting from the anticipation.
Begging for me to take him into my mouth.
I inch closer to his pulsating cock, but don’t give him what he craves. Instead, I stroke him and caress the hot skin with my warm breath.
The hardness twitches, and his breaths turn shallow.
“Phoenix,” Daegel moans. “You’re driving me wild.”
“Oh yeah?” My words are breathy as I bring my lips even closer. “Whoopsie.”
With my free hand, I cup his balls and gently fondle them. His hips buck, and a groan escapes him.
Finally, I open my mouth and poke my tongue out. Slowly, I let the head glide over the flat surface of my tongue before I close my lips around it and suck.
“Oh, fuck,” Daegel exhales.
One of his hands comes to rest behind my neck ever so slightly. I moan and take him deeper. Before he can hit the back of my throat, I retreat and then dive in once more.
With my hand, I cup the base of his hardness and use the other to stroke the shaft while I swirl my tongue around the tip.
I pick up the pace, and work him faster and harder until his hand on the back of my neck tenses.
His trained abdominal muscles are taunt, and his hips flex. He’s getting close, and I keep up the pace with my hands and lips. But before he can spill into my mouth, I retreat.
Saliva stretches between my lips and his hardness. Daegel’s breathing is labored.
I look up at him through my eyelashes. “So, what were you saying about that clever tongue of mine again?”
