“Yes,” I whisper, my fingers tangling in his thick black locks.
I feel him smile as his grip tightens on my thighs, holding me firmly against his face. The friction of his tongue between my legs arches my back off the plush fur as I moan into the night.
He is attentive to every sigh, every shift of my hips, every sharp intake of breath as he devours me greedily. Unwilling to relent until it’s all I can do not to scream out his name.
His tongue is a wicked thing. It swirls lazily over that sensitive bundle of nerves, coiling the tension as he sucks me in, before soothing me again with blissfully slow strokes and long, idle sweeps. I writhe beneathhim, his tongue keeping time with the pulse of ecstasy building inside me. Every tremor of my body is met with the flick of his tongue between my legs.
I tense under his attention. It’s all too overwhelming. Every sensation brings me closer to the precipice and my body shakes as I rush toward my release.
“Not yet,” he purrs, as I ride the edge of ecstasy, and he slows to a wickedly teasing pace.
My breath is caught in my throat when his fangs leave exquisite trails of pleasurable pain across my torso as he rises to meet me. He catches the tender pink flesh at the center of my breast between his teeth, and I shudder out a gasp.
“Xeyvian.” His name slips off my lips in a plea and I nearly break when the male growls before capturing my mouth with his own again, the sweet taste of my passion still on his lips.
He grinds his thick length against that tender bud of nerves and nips my lip. I don’t think about it when I tip my hips until the head of his shaft is bumping up against the slick folds of my core. His body goes rigid, the hesitation he feels clearly written on his face.
So, I wait, as patient as he has always been with me. Smiling at him, a smile that tells him I want this. I brush my lips against his shoulder, his neck, his ear. I let my hands explore his body just as he had mine. Every muscular curve and hard line, a map I will myself to commit to memory.
The tension leaks from his jaw as he drags his thumb down the blade of my cheek. His brow furrows further, then the hesitation pours out of the male, his lips falling to mine. There is nothing insistent about the kiss, nothing pressing or demanding. It’s soft, gentle, tender. Things I hadn’t known until I met him. My arms fold around his neck and I think that, maybe, if I must die, I’d like it to be in his arms.
One hand at my jaw, the other hooks around my thigh and draws it up to his side, and he sinks himself into me.
A thrum of silent thunder pulses like an echo. I gasp when a pain like nothing I’ve ever felt, blinding white and full of rapture, ignites my chest, searing across my torso and bicep. It brings something I can’t place, like a foundation formed in the deepest part of my being. Just as quickly as it came,the force begins to settle, snapping something taut inside me.
Xeyvian’s brow dips, and as if summoned by his sharp inhale of breath, a dark mark of ancient script wraps his bicep to trail across his chest, ending beneath his heart. The male rests his forehead against mine, a deep sigh emanating from his lips as he begins to rock his hips back and forth.
He is slow and gentle at first. Nothing like what I’d been taught to expect when I’d been told stories by other Fea Dien. He takes his time exploring the boundaries of our union, encouraged when I begin to move my body in time with his own.
His hands are at my waist, exploring my breasts, tenderly stroking the soft skin of my arms. His lips explore the curve of my throat, my jaw. Every bare scrap of flesh he can find he adorns with his touch.
I moan into the night, overcome with the glorious feeling of my body stretching around him. His mouth catches the sound, his tongue playing along my lips as he pushes himself in, only to retreat tauntingly. When he presses in again, I answer the slow thrust of his length by tipping my hips to drive him deeper. This timeIswallow the male’s moan, his own throaty response to the pleas of my body as I usher him inside.
He takes his time, filling me inch by inch, each gradual stroke deeper than the last, letting me become accustomed to his girth, his length, his presence inside me. My core clenches greedily, tightening around him when he finally thrusts hard, seating himself to the hilt. The achingly perfect stretch of my body as I take the male fully is rapture itself.
“Fates,” he groans as he pulls back and thrusts in again, seating himself in my core. “You’re perfect,” he sighs. “This is—”
“Perfect,” I gasp, echoing the sentiment as he slams himself into me.
With every stroke, he slides against that tiny bundle of nerves, building a tension I cannot suppress. I want this to last. I want to spend hours milking him of his passion until we are both truly and utterly spent.
But there is no denying the torrent of bliss that crashes through my body.
I gasp, when I shatter like fractured starlight, from the likes of which new galaxies are born. Each wave of my release casts me further into oblivion until I’m completely lost to myself, skating along the precipice of life, light,and utter darkness.
I’m gone, dancing along the farthest expanses of the universe when a deep murmur flits across my ears. A familiar voice pulls at a tether in my chest, and I have no choice but to follow. It’s a sweet sound, followed by the tender brush of his lips against my cheek. The male purrs in my ear, breathy feyn whispers, and I loose a deep sigh of utter contentment.
More. I want more. Because what will ever be enough?
I hook my leg over his back and pitch my weight, rolling on top of him. I never expected to use the move outside of a fight, but I find that I greatly prefer it for this function. He looks surprised before he smiles and grips my hips, encouraging me, showing me how to move. I brace my hands against his chest, sinking down on his length, moaning. I’m pleased to find that this position grants him deeper entry inside of me.
His thumb sweeps across my nub as I ride him, strumming me like a chord he’s settling into perfect tune. My core tightens with every sweep of his finger, with every deep stroke of his length. A muscle bounces along the edge of his jaw as his eyes drop to the swell of my chest.
My head kicks back when he rises to capture the tender pink flesh of my breast in his mouth. With every flick of his tongue, I feel the build of a new breaking and his moan vibrates my chest with warning.
“I know,” I breathe.
His hips thrust up to meet me when I slide down on him, and I come completely undone, unraveled by the male, into thousands of tiny threads that will never be knit back together. Riding out the waves of my passion, he shudders beneath me, moaning as he spills himself deep within my pulsating core.
