He closes his eyes and sinks his head deeper into the pillow. “I’m only fae, not a god.”
My legs tremble so badly, I fear they will fall straight out from under me as I crawl up on the bed.
“Stop,” he says.
I obey.
“Kneel before me.”
I do, sitting on my heels on the soft bed, caged in by his huge legs. My heart races as I stare at his throbbing form. Though I’ve seen Keldarion naked—and felt his hardness against me—this is the first time I’ve truly been able to take in the High Prince of Winter. Thick veins curve up its length, and I imagine running my tongue along each one, tasting the sweetness. My breath quickens as I fight the urge to pounce on it.
“Stars be damned,” he rasps, his eyes running up my body. “You are gorgeous.”
I sweep my tongue over my lips. “Careful, Keldarion,” I say huskily. “If you compliment me like that, I might get confused and assume you like me.”
His lip curls, and he brings his other hand down to cup his balls. “You do enjoy torturing me, don’t you?”
I lean down, eyes half-closed and mouth open. “I could find other ways to torture you that are more to your liking—”
“Sit up,” he says.
I do, heat flushing to my cheeks.
He never stops stroking himself as he says, “You may not touch me. And I will not touch you. Do you understand?”
I glare at him through my lashes, but his face is all business. He grits his teeth and squeezes the base of his cock. It’s so thick, I can only imagine what it would be like to sit on top of him, to try to push all of that inside of me…
His voice is low, husky. “Do you understand?”
I shake my head, refocusing. “Yes. But if I can’t touch you and you won’t touch—”
“Raise your skirt.”
With featherlight touches, I push the edge of my nightdress further up, slowly revealing the soft flesh of my thighs.
“Are you wet?” he asks gruffly.
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
I gather the nightdress around my waist, and he sucks in a tight breath. Then I slide a finger through my center, shivering at the contact. When I pull my hand away, the candlelight dances off my arousal.
“Does this please you?” I ask.
He runs a tongue over his teeth, and I’m half expecting to see sharp canines by the predatory look in his gaze. “Very much.”
I shift my weight forward, bringing my shimmering hand close to his straining cock. “Would you like to feel for yourself?”
He closes his eyes and grunts, his hand pumping hard. “Don’t… tempt me.”
“Why not—”
“Suck it off,” he orders.
I do, placing my fingers deep in my throat, holding his gaze the entire time. My heart skips in my chest as he holds me in that piercing blue stare. His face is a work of art, a perfect blend of rugged masculinity and refined elegance.
There’s an intensity in his gaze that draws me in. His eyes seem to hold secrets, and I want to unravel them all. The way his brow furrows as he watches me sucking my own fingers deep makes my core burn. Is he picturing my mouth wrapped around him like I am?
