I’ve fallen in love with Gigi.
He wasn’t meant to lead a solitary life: he’d just been waiting for Gigi to wander into it. Gazing into her luminous eyes, he felt hunger, pain, and pleasure all at once. With her, he let himself feel everything.
Slowly, so slowly, he bent his head and kissed her.
It was like sinking into a bed of flowers. He took his time, enjoying the indescribable pleasure of kissing his mate. In the tender press of their lips, he felt the sealing of his future. When she sighed with yielding sweetness, he greedily staked his claim. He thrust his tongue so deep that it was a wonder she didn’t choke. Instead, she welcomed him with an excited little moan, and Christ, Christ, he had to have more of her. He tumbled her onto the table, and the sight of her lying on the field of green, her hair coming loose from her braid and her arms languidly stretched above her head, made him savage with lust.
He gathered her delicate wrists in one hand, pinning her for his pleasure. A breath puffed from her lips, but her dewy eyes shone with excitement.
“You’re mine,” he said with rough wonder.
Since nymphs were independent creatures, he set about proving the statement in ways that even Gigi couldn’t argue with. He strung a necklace of kisses around her throat, feeling her pulse throb beneath his lips. Her scent intoxicated him. She smelled like sex in a meadow of flowers, like making love to a sprite in her natural habitat.
Eventually, he moved onto her breasts. Firm and round, they had an irresistible jiggle.
“You have the most perfect tits,” he said.
Her shy giggle felt like a caress against his balls.
“You are original, I’ll grant you that.” Her cheeks pink, she peered up at him through her lashes. “That is the first time I’ve been paid that particular compliment.”
“Trust me, it’s not the first time a fellow has thought it,” he said dryly.
Because the notion of another man ogling her breasts caused his vision to flash red, he focused instead on the bounty in front of him. Reverently, he palmed one smooth tit, perfectly designed to fit his hand, and felt her shiver. Hell, he shivered too. When he grazed a thumb over her plump nipple, her breath hitched.
“There’s my favorite treat,” he murmured. “It’s better with nothing between us, isn’t it, sweetheart?”
He meant more than her shirt, and the way she ran her fingers along his jaw, with a tenderness that made his throat flex, conveyed that she felt their intimacy as well.
“Yes, it is,” she said.
The softness of her expression roused his darkest hunger. He nuzzled the crevice between her breasts as he rubbed both nipples. He breathed in her scent while her pillowy tits surged against his cheeks. She slid her fingers into his hair, holding him close. He shut his eyes, every fiber of his being pleasured by her touch. He turned his lips to the curve of her breast, exploring the silken mound. He spiraled toward the straining peak and gently flicked it with his tongue. She gasped, her spine bowing off the table as he took his time enjoying his treat. He teased her nipples until they were swollen and lewdly wet, until she was panting his name.
“I love how sensitive you are,” he said thickly. “Will you come for me while I lick your tits?”
It was a rhetorical question, for she was clearly teetering on the edge. He sealed his lips around her nipple, sucking hard. When she cried out, he cupped her silky thatch. She was sopping wet. He rubbed the heel of his palm against her pearl, growling when she rewarded him with a gush of dew and arched wantonly into his touch.
Devil and damn. A man could only take so much.
Straightening, he unbuttoned his shirt and yanked it off. Too impatient to deal with his shoes, he shoved his trousers past his hips, grunting as he freed his erection. It slapped heavily into his palm. He groaned as he fisted himself, pumping slowly.
Gigi propped herself up on her elbows. “May I, um, help?”
“Yes, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely. “There’s nothing I would like more.”
He helped her sit up on the edge of the table and wrapped her hand around his straining rod. Her breathy sound of excitement made him leap within her tender grip. The sight of her elegant fingers encircling his veined shaft enhanced his arousal. He closed his hand over hers, showing her what he liked.
“Frig me like this, duchess,” he said.
“With that much pressure?” she asked, eyes wide.
“Harder, if you can manage it.”
His words were filtered through his teeth because her touch, while inexperienced, was the most pleasurable he’d experienced, bar none. She gauged his response with sweet concentration, her bottom lip caught beneath her teeth, her gaze flitting between his face and his erection, which swelled in her fist. Her desire to please stroked the neediest part of him, the part he’d exposed to no one else.
“You’re touching me so well,” he told her. “See how hard you’ve made me?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
