“You are perfect, Elara,” he whispered, slowly brushing his lips over hers. “Perfect.”
Elara whimpered and moved to kiss him. He allowed her this time, but kept the kiss gentle and languid, even as it deepened and their tongues began to dance.
Then he was guiding her backward, his touch slow and gentle, until her back touched the cold countertop, and he was draped over her. Elara reveled in the feel of his body, so very warm and hard against hers as they kissed. Her fingers within his hair grew soft and coaxing, and she let out a soft sigh as Constantine’s kisses traveled from her lips back down her neck.
With each press of his lips and laps of his tongue, Elara felt her mons open and bloom like a flower. She hissed in a breath and let out a soft cry as Constantine both drew her right nipple into his mouth and thrust his finger between her parted, dewy folds at the same time. Her lashes fluttered, her hips undulated as Constantine’s hand began a rhythmic motion between her thighs.
Her inner walls spasmed with pleasure as they gripped his finger tightly of their own volition, as if her very body wanted him deeper inside of her.
“So wet already for me, love,” Constantine murmured against her nipple, his tone praising.
“I cannot help it,” she whimpered, parting her thighs wider for him as he slowly teased one breast then the other. “You feel so… so..”
Her words cut off into a gasp as a second finger joined the first, and she arched into his touch.
“Finish that sentence, love,” Constantine commanded, his kisses traveling down her abdomen now.
She tried, tried to think of the proper word that would best describe the bliss she felt building throughout her entire body, but the rhythm of Constantine’s fingers was making her mind fuzzy.
Then suddenly Constantine stopped. His fingers withdrew, he stood up straight, and delivered a light slap to her sex.
Elara gasped as she bolted up halfway. He had not hurt her—far from it, actually, but it had been so shocking, so punishing, that even as it sent a shockwave of pleasure through her, she still felt embarrassed.
“What was that?” she demanded, and she shivered as a wicked smile drew slowly across Constantine’s handsome face.
“If you do not wish for punishment, then you have to obey, wife,” he chastised, raising the finger that had just been inside of her, wagging it as if it were scolding her.
Elara swallowed, caught between sexual frustration and genuine anger at his goading words.
“You want to know how you feel, then?” she asked, raising both her chin and spreading her legs wider.
Constantine’s gaze immediately dipped down, his mouth going slack-jawed as his pupils dilated as he remained fixated on her daring move.
“You feel heavenly,” she whispered. “Your touch, your lips, haunt my dreams and leave me aching and wet as I wake each morning.”
Growing braver, she drew a hand up and trailed her fingertips slowly between the valley of her breasts, down her waist, and to her mons. She let out the softest moan as her fingers, for the first time ever, grazed over the taut, tiny bundle of nerves that sat just above her sex.
A feral noise rumbled from Constantine’s chest as he batted her hand away and dropped to his knees at the same time.
“Mine,”he snarled possessively, and before Elara could further tease him, his mouth was on her sex.
Elara keened. Her hips arched into his mouth as perspiration erupted on her skin, and she sank her fingers into his hair again. With another possessive snarl, Constantine snatched her wrists, forcing them to her sides as he took what was rightfully his.
Pleasure surged through Elara’s veins as Constantine made his claim, feasting on her as if he were a man starved and only her body could slake such need. In seconds, every nerve sparked, every nerve tightened, and as her orgasm unleashed, she let out a desperate cry for him.
Constantine did not let that plea go unheeded. Even as her body attempted to recover from the intensity of her release, his fingers thrust into her again, arching up and touching a spot deep within that caused her to gush over and over again until she felt wrung dry.
He pressed one final, lingering kiss against her mons before he lifted his head, and the look on his face as he gazed up at her from between her thighs made her breath catch all over again. His lips were glistening, his green eyes heavy and dark with a need that had not yet been answered, and for a moment, he simply looked at her, as if committing the sight of her to memory.
Elara looked back at him. He had knelt before her without a moment’s hesitation, without demanding anything in return, and given her everything. Before she had fully thought it through, she straightened herself up and reached down for him.
“Stand up,” she said softly.
Constantine raised a brow, but he rose, and Elara slid from the counter. Her legs were still unsteady beneath her, but she pressed her palms flat against his chest and felt him draw in a slow breath at her touch.
“It is your turn,” she said, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes.
“Elara,” he began, his voice low with warning.
