“Is this you begging?”
“It could be.”
I languidly licked the crown, locking eyes with him.
“My gods, you will kill me faster than any demon with that tongue of yours.”
“Are you suggesting I’m more skilled than you are?” I grasped the base of his cock and licked the length of him, then captured the whole head in my mouth. He groaned as I took all of him deep. He thrust in rhythm with my sucking, and his groans morphed from deep throaty intensity to missing a beat as his cum gushed into my mouth. Salty sweetness like him.
He tugged me up, hugging me as I swallowed. His kiss was hungry, merging our tastes inside and out. Skin was our enemy.I needed him to be inside of me because I wanted to crawl under his skin. Desperate to know every inch of him. I pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top.
“It’s my turn, I believe.” His lips widened, showing teeth that were excellent at nibbling.
“I’m not good with taking turns. I smirked, playfully chewing on his nipple.
He growled his reply, flipping me onto my back with so little effort my breath caught. His face in shadow washed up the memory of the lich look, and I sucked in a breath.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes searching mine, the whites glowing in the moonlight, giving me another flash of memory. I cringed a little before I caught myself, and he rubbed my arm, his brows pulling with concern.
“Nothing. I mean, it is something, but nothing you’ve done. It’s your other face. I remembered it for a second.”
“Ah.” He nodded, sitting up from me. “I can’t do anything about that.” He ran a hand over his jaw.
“I know that. It’s unusual and new.” I cupped his cheek and tugged him forward for a kiss. He was tentative, as if waiting for my response, and I poured it into him. All the passion I had for this complex man, who understood me better than anyone I knew or might ever know. I tore away to pull him down on the bed, this time catching his body between my thighs. I was aching for him. The heat of his skin on mine amping the need.
His fingers danced over my breast, circling a nipple. I arched under him as ripples of pleasure hardened them even more.
He dipped his head and captured one nipple, then began a wet trail splitting me from breast to navel. Sitting back, he lifted my hips, running his hands down my outer thighs and crossing to the sensitive skin.
Eyes locked with mine, he delicately stroked the hair on my aching pussy. “I am ensorcelled by your beauty,” he said,fingering my clit. I moaned, writhing under his rubbing until I couldn’t take it anymore.
I sat up and reached for his stiff cock, guiding the wet tip to my inner lips.
“This. In me. Now,” I rasped.
“Is that a favor you ask of me?” He smirked, flashing teeth.
“No, it’s not a favor, you vexing wizard. It’s an order.” I thrust my hips at him.
“Then, I will obey your command, heart of my heart,” he said as he slid into me.
My brain melted as he pulled out and passed back in while rubbing my clit. The silk of him sliding in and out sent me higher than any of Bud’s best blends.
He groaned and settled over me, maintaining the rhythm. Raising my hips, I joined the dance of motion, like we were working together. A human machine. One heart. One soul pumping to one spectacular goal.
I wrapped my legs around him as the crippling orgasm shattered me into silence. With three more thrusts, he stiffened while crying out something that wasn’t English. The gush of fluid throbbed inside of me, and I tightened my legs around him to prevent him from pulling out until I was ready. We rolled sideways, still joined at the hip, his kiss sweet and salty with my tears of joy and the knowing that I’d never experience being here with him again for the first time.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Iwoke up to the sound of my phone buzzing, blinking through the weak post-dawn light streaming through the windows. A muscled arm draped over my chest, and the heat of Ranth radiated across my back in the bliss of an ache I didn’t want to leave. My phone was too far away to grab without extraction.
“Ugh, sorry.” I shifted Ranth, and he rolled over, then startled to attention. “What is it?” he asked, sitting up. The sheet ribboned off him. I recalled the throaty growl he made as I traced the tattoos scrolling over his hip bones with my tongue. My heart fluttered.
“Nothing. A phone call. Hopefully, Juke.” I trailed a hand down his chest, the connection lighting us as I grabbed the phone.
It was Fabra.
I put it on speaker.
