Slanting my lips over hers and—yes—deepening our contact, it’s a descent.
We’re free-falling, tumbling, losing ourselves to this war of tongues and needs.
This beautiful woman wants it as much as I do. She groans into my mouth, slides her hands to my hips, gripping tight. Demanding more of me.
Each kiss makes her unravel further, and I can’t get enough. Of thesemoreandoh God. Of these breathy moans she lets out.
I need more.
The offensive bandages covering her tits go behind her back one by one. She’s exposed to me now, completely.
Changing my grip, I wind my fist in her hair. I use the other hand to pinch and roll one of her nipples between my fingers. It tightens, harder than before, from my touch, waking as if it’s been waiting for me.
A dark urge insists I take even more of Elowyn. That I possess her completely. Not to stop. Not now, not ever.
“This.” My lips trace a hot path along her jaw, and she shivers. When I suck at her throat, she yanks me closer, despite our hips already being pressed together. “Belongs to me.”
I’m throbbing against her stomach, and fuck, she loves that too, grinding into me.
But I’m not so lost that I stop registering her responses.
I haven’t stopped doing it since she got here. Only difference is now, I don’t do it out of anger.
I make up for my lack of experience with attention because I love her.
When I move to her other nipple, circling it with my thumb, my mouth stops at her neck, feeling for her reaction before going further.
Her pulse stutters beneath my lips, the rhythm showing me exactly what she needs from me.
Which is more of what I’ve been doing so far.
I give it to her, playing with her breast a little longer.
The pressure in my cock and my heart tightens.
But it goes deeper than sex. Her light slips in, warming my cold, dark soul. Remembering how pure and good she is makes the reasons for her being here matter less and less.
Whether I’m second, third, or tenth on her list—whether she came here for my money or to save Barclay—I truly don’t care.
She lives under my roof. Responds to my touch. Arches her back for me.
The scars I carry beneath my skin, the anger I’ve been clinging to, my bleeding heart… I can deal with everything, as long as I get to dothis. Kiss her swollen, wet lips again. Swipe my tongue against hers.
Eventually, I’ll make her fall in love with me.
It’s inevitable. Elowyn and I were meant for each other. My hands, my lips, my teeth, my desperate fucking groans, all of them.
I slide my hand lower along her ribs, down to her waist. With a tilt of my hips back, I can slide my hand between us and find that hot, pulsing clit, stroking it until she cries out.
Her pleasure fills the room, reverberating through me.
“The sounds you make.” I rub faster, being rougher the more she hardens beneath my finger. “These moans. They’re for me, little moon?”
“Yes.” It’s as though she’s beyond hesitating. Beyond etiquette. Her hands trail up my chest, to my neck, to my hair. Her nails scrape my scalp. “Please.”
“Please, what?” I stare down, my hold on her hair relentless.
A reminder that, for better or worse, there’s no getting away from me.
