His hands palm my ass, gripping and bruising as I take him deep inside me.
“Holy fucking Stars,” he murmurs to himself.
My hand moves to my clit, adding the friction I’m so desperate for, and he huffs a laugh of disbelief as his eyes rake over my body from behind and in the mirror. “What are you doing to me, woman?” he breathes.
I can’t speak, too lost to the bliss, too pulled into the sight of myself taking him, riding him, breasts bouncing to the rhythm of my movements.
“Look how well you take me, my love. You’re doing so well for me,” he encourages, voice all spice and heat.
My pace increases, pleasure building at his words that pool low in my belly. I add more pressure to my clit, and I can’t help the moan that tears from my throat.Unrestrained. Wild. Raw.
“That’s it, darling. Grind my cock. Just like that,” he urges me on, and then his fingers swipe between my cheeks, moving in the rhythm of my hips. Dipping and caressing. Forbidden and taboo.
Kael’s hands move and stroke between my cheeks, and the world collapses into the small, hot vortex of his body meeting mine. Each stroke a vow, each grind a punctuation—sharp, necessary, taking and giving—and I ride him like I’m trying torewrite my own history. The mirror throws us back at ourselves: my face, wild and raw; his jaw clenched, eyes drinking in my body; the slick of our skin catching the lamp light and turning us into confession.
Kael’s hips buck, hard and sure, and I open myself the way he told me to—thighs wide, tips of my toes on the floor for leverage, my own reflection inescapable.
His body is a throne beneath me, solid and unyielding, and mine is the spectacle. Every thrust makes my breasts bounce, every grind drags his cock deeper, every sound I make caught in the reflection.I can’t look away.
His hands are heavy on my ass, guiding, claiming. One drifts lower again, rough fingers spreading me wider, dragging his fingers between my cheeks. Then he slides higher, teasing along the center of my ass in a way that spirals pleasure up my spine. A mortified sound escapes me—sharp, instinctive. I freeze, shame prickling hot across my chest.
But Kael sits up in a rush, broad chest to my back, breath fire against my ear. His hand stills me, possessive. “No,” he growls, voice lethal with certainty. “Don’t you dare hide from me, Elyssara.” His fingers curl tighter on my hip, anchoring me. “I want every part of you. All your hunger. All your desires. All your pleasure. Every dirty fantasy. Every fucking place your body gives in to me.” His mouth drags along my neck, biting at my pulse, and a shiver ripples across my skin. “Don’t ever give me less.” His hand trails up the side of my torso, over my shoulder, and into my hair as he brushes it off my neck, and whispers, “Let go for me.”
My shame shatters, molten heat flooding in its place.
He lies back again, hands cupping my ass, waiting for me to decide:will I cower under the weight of my shame? Or will I claim this pleasure for myself?
So I rock back against him, deliberately pressing into his hand with my ass this time. Obliterating shame with a single movement—not just allowing, but embracing, claiming what I want. His answering groan vibrates through my spine.
“Just like that,” he murmurs, reassuring, encouraging.
The mirror shows everything: the flush staining my skin, the tears at the corners of my eyes, his cock spreading me open as I ride him, the lines of my torso that ripple like waves with every grind. Kael’s gaze burns into my back, but it feels like it pierces straight through to the woman in the glass. The woman who’s been taught to hide—her fire, her magic, her pleasure, her desires, her power.
But Kael sees me, and asks me to drop the act. To reveal myself. To step out of the shadows of who I’ve learned to be, and let myself be seen—bare, whole,me.
“Look at you,” he rasps, thrusting up into me, hard enough to make me cry out. “My Queen.”
I moan at his words, at the dizzying collision of shame and worship, of hiding and revealing, and the pleasure tips me over. My body convulses, unraveling in the reflection—lips parted, breath heavy, body vulnerable but alive, and Kael follows with a guttural roar, spilling into me as his grip locks me down tight on his cock.
My pussy pulses around him, squeezing in rapturous ecstasy, and the hum of his approval annihilates me.
A flood of pleasure ripples through me, and Kael’s grip remains firm on my hips until every last shudder is wrung from me.
“You’re so fucking sexy when you come, beautiful,” Kael praises, his voice strained and heady.
I collapse sideways into the silks, trembling, shaking, wracked with pleasure that floods every part of my body. Boneless, languid. But Kael eases me back into his arms, pullingme in tight. He pulls a silk sheet over my bare skin, tucks my hair behind my ear, and kisses my temple in an act so contrary to everything we’ve just done.
His voice is softer now, stripped bare. “Never hold yourself back with me, Elyssara. You can be all of yourself. Every jagged edge, every hunger, every want, every pleasure.” His hand presses over my heart, steady and sure. “I want all of you.”
I bury my face in his throat, because the thought of not hiding, not holding back, makes me realize that it’s the only way I’ve ever lived.
Until him.
And I’m never going back again.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
KAEL
