If it all ended in ash, he would fully live first.
Then she leaned forward and took him in her mouth again and it was more than his sanity could endure. That clever little tongue swirled over the tip, and he spilled down her throat.
Her orgasm followed, crashing over them like a tide. Awe so intense it brought tears to her eyes. Every sound she made, every desperate gasp, Rune swallowed it as if it were holy. There was a power in their union, relishing every second she gave herself over not only to his essence but toallof him.
And darkness help him, he was nearly out of breath.
Alora dropped beside him with a lazy smile. “We aren’t finished so soon, are we?”
“Greedy little thing,” he growled playfully, sitting up to hoist her on his lap.
Her eyes caught the golden light of the aphrodisiac liquid that coated on himself. And when he caressed her wet slit with both aching lengths before seating her on one. Alora whimpered, trembling around him.
“I love how well you take me,” he rasped, licking the sweat from her collarbone. “So beautiful. My deadly little flower, blooming for me.”
Rune retracted his claws and gently removed the shadows he’d left in her rear. Her soft gasp turned into a whimper two of his fingers replaced them.
She shut her eyes, breath trembling sharply at the pressure and invasion, but he had slid in without much resistance.
Then he moved, fingers and shadows working in tandem together, overwhelming her with pleasure, teaching her body to open for him. Patient, thorough, relentless until her whimpers broke into soft moans. And any tension Alora once felt melted into exhilaration.
“After tonight, there will be no part of you left untouched,” he rumbled.
Alora shuddered, her walls clamping down on him greedily. “Another,” she rasped.
Rune’s laugh vibrated against her chest, dark and delighted. “Can you handle that?”
“Yes!”
“You beg so sweetly, my queen. How can I deny you?”
He slipped a third finger inside. Her hips bucked and she mewled as the sensation coursed through the bond, sharp and wild. He watched her, reading every glimmer of pleasure on her face, soothing any discomfort with murmured praises and magic.
He worked that sweet little hole, preparing her in ways that made him so hard he teetered on the edge. When she grew softer, he pumped deeper, and Alora’s cries answered. He ached to sink into her himself yet reveled as her body yielded to him. The claws of his other hand dug into the bedframe, splintering the wood as she dripped down her thighs, her intoxicating scent filling his senses.
Every fiber of him screamed to take her then and there.
Alora panted, sweating, convulsing on his sheets as her hips bucked into his touch, wanting more. Begging for more. The sight nearly had him coming again.
Her breath sharpened. “Rune…” she whispered, half protest, half plea.
She was ready for him now.
His chuckle was low, dark velvet. “Are you so impatient to be taken byallof me? I warn you now, after this you will be corrupted so deep the gods themselves would weep to look upon you.”
Her smile was enough.
It was everything.
Rune teased the ridged length of his lower length through her folds again, slow, deliberate, molten veins glowing like they meant to brand her. And he flexed his fingers only once.
Her cry filled the air, and it snapped something feral in him.
With a growl that shook the rafters, he pulled out and lifted her by her hip, lining himself at both entrances, pressing enough for her body to feel the impossible stretch waiting for her. She stiffened, eyes flying wide, shock and want colliding.
“Shhh.” His lips brushed her ear at her whimper. “You can take it, love. Breathe.”
Braced herself on his shoulders, Alora nodded. Once she inhaled a breath, he eased into her slowly. Agony and ecstasy braided together as the first head slipped in, the ridges catching deliciously against her walls. She gasped, nails digging into his skin. More of her sleek, delicious core took him in, and he groaned.
