“No, you’re not. You’re still helping Barclay.” This difficult conversation doesn’t change the fact that I’m desperate for Elowyn’s orgasm. I stroke her until both of us are panting. “He’s your priority. Always has been.”
Not that it matters. Not that I’m letting her go. I just need her to be aware of it, dammit.
“He isn’t.” She bares her perfect white teeth at me, snarling. A second later, she moans, wounded and needy. “Don’t—oh—don’t say that. Stop lying. I need him to get better, but I’m here for you.”
With just those clipped words and her bravery, Elowyn dares me to look at her. Really look at her.
“Damn you.” I push inside her with two fingers again, curling them while pressing the heel of my hand to her clit. “Damn you for being so good, little moon. For making me want to pretend the last ten years never happened.”
After a few more harsh strokes, she swells beneath my fingers. Wrapped in the bandages I dressed her in, she trembles in my grip, then shatters all over me, shaking, gasping, crying.
I can’t stand the distance. How her lips are too far from mine.
So I make it fucking right. Leaning in and dragging her into me at the same time, I claim her mouth before she can take her next breath.
My eyes stay open, reveling in her scrunched brows. In the pain and pleasure etched into her face.
I graze that spot inside her again. My cock throbs with every broken sound I draw out of Elowyn. Her screams, her moans, I can’t get enough.
But before another orgasm can take her, I pull out. I drag my hand, slick with her arousal, over her hip and yank her back against me.
I’m not being subtle as I hold her against me. Can’t, when I need her to feel how hard I am. How I want every part of her so much that it vibrates throughout my body.
How the next time she comes, it won’t be on my fingers.
It’ll be on my cock.
She gasps into my mouth, then swipes her tongue over mine as she lifts her hand and softly cups my cheek. And though the warmth of her palm scorches, I finally allow her that intimate touch.
Then I let her break our kiss, though I want nothing more than to keep getting lost in her mouth.
“If Barclay was lying, why didn’tyoucome for me?” she asks, turning my question against me.
My gaze drops to her swollen, glistening lips, then drags back up to the eyes that have haunted me for over a fucking decade.
“Why?” she repeats.
“Not now. The past doesn’t matter tonight. What comes next does, so listen carefully.” I ignore the hurt in her eyes. Shut down the part of me that wants to soften for her. “I’m going to take that virgin pussy you’ve been saving for me.”
She doesn’t run.
Doesn’t fold.
Doesn’t even look away.
Elowyn slides her hand from my cheek to my jaw, pressing her body to mine, saying, “Okay.”
“I’m going to be rough.” I dig my fingers into her hip. “Going to mark you like no other man ever has or ever will.”
Daring me to follow up on my threat, she tilts her head up and whispers, “Do it.”
17
DUNCAN
“Brave, filthy girl,” I growl, then go back to devouring her mouth.
Unlike the other kisses that came before, this one isn’t about hate, love, or even obsession.
