His response was to circle my clit with excruciating slowness, building my arousal until I thought I might explode. Just when I reached the edge, he’d pull back slightly, letting me fall back from the precipice before building me up again. It was both maddening and exquisite, a calculated torture that left me trembling and breathless.
“Rion,” I begged, my fingers digging into the muscles of his back. “Don’t tease me.”
A dark smile touched his lips. “I’m not teasing, Clara. I’m learning.”
He leaned down, capturing my lips in another searing kiss as his finger resumed its devastating work. This time, however, he didn’t pull back when I neared the edge. Instead, he pressed harder, moving faster, and with a final, deliberate stroke, sent me spiraling over into oblivion.
My orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, stealing my breath and my senses. I cried out against his mouth, my body convulsing with the intensity of it. Wave after wave of pleasure washed through me, leaving me boneless and trembling in its aftermath.
When I finally came back to myself, he was watching me with an expression of raw wonder, as if I’d just shown him the starsfor the first time. His finger still rested against me, a gentle, grounding presence.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, the word barely audible.
I reached up to trace the curve of his jaw, my fingers still trembling slightly from the force of my release. “That’s my line,” I managed, my voice hoarse.
A small, genuine smile touched his lips, transforming his serious features into something almost boyish. “I had to see you undone,” he admitted quietly. “To know this was real.”
The vulnerability in his confession struck me to the core. Even in this moment of intense intimacy, he’d been testing, verifying, making sure this wasn’t some dream he’d wake from alone.
“It’s real,” I assured him, my fingers tracing the line of his horns, still trembling from the intensity of it all. He immediately looked concerned, starting to pull back.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice tight with worry.
“No,” I assured him quickly, keeping my arms around him. “Not at all. It’s just… overwhelming. In the best possible way.”
Relief softened his features. “For me as well,” he admitted.
I smiled up at him, feeling dizzy with happiness and desire. My hand moved to cup his cheek, my thumb tracing the line where fur gave way to the smoother skin near his mouth. “I’ve been wanting to do that for… quite a while,” I confessed.
A small smile curved his lips. “How long?”
“Since the bookstore,” I admitted. “Maybe before. When did you…?”
“From the beginning,” he said simply. “From that first day in the cafe, when you looked at me and didn’t run.”
The honesty in his voice made my heart ache. I pulled him down for another kiss, softer this time, trying to pour all my feelings into the contact—my attraction, my admiration, my growing affection that felt dangerously close to something deeper.
Rion responded with equal tenderness, his massive body gentle above mine, his hands reverent as they cradled my face. When he pulled back, his dark eyes were filled with an emotion I couldn’t quite name—wonder, perhaps, or disbelief, mingled with something warm and protective.
“What are you thinking?” I asked softly, tracing the curve of one of his horns with my fingertips, marveling at its smooth texture.
He closed his eyes briefly at my touch, a shudder running through his powerful frame. “That I should be careful,” he said, his voice low. “That this can’t possibly be real.”
“It’s real,” I assured him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’m real. We’re real.”
His eyes opened, finding mine with an intensity that took my breath away. “Clara,” he said, my name like a caress on his lips. “You should know… this isn’t simple for me. What I am, what my life has been?—”
I pressed my fingers gently to his lips, stopping his words. “I know,” I said. “Or I’m beginning to know. And I’m not asking for something simple. I’m just asking for this. For now.”
He caught my hand, turning it to press a kiss to my palm—a gesture so unexpectedly tender that I felt tears prick at my eyes.
“For now,” he agreed quietly.
We stayed like that, tangled together on my too-small sofa, exchanging slow, deep kisses that gradually gave way to softer, more exploratory touches. He discovered the sensitive spot just below my ear that made me gasp when his lips brushed against it. I learned that the fur on his arms grew softer at the inner elbow, and that the skin beneath was remarkably warm. His hands moved with a deliberate reverence, as if memorizing every curve and dip of my body.
“I like your skin,” he murmured against my neck, his breath hot against my pulse. “So soft.”
I laughed, threading my fingers through the surprisingly soft hair at the nape of his neck. “I like your… everything. Even the parts that terrified me at first.”
