“Not a sound unless I tell you to make one,” he ordered, his voice deep and commanding.
She shuddered at the authority in it, her nails digging into his shoulders.
His mouth found hers then, searing, consuming, as he carried her to the bed. The kiss was a claiming, his tongue parting her lips, tasting, taking, his grip on her tightening as if he had no intention of letting go. When the backs of her knees hit the mattress, he lowered her down, following her, never breaking contact.
He made quick work of her gown, dragging it over her head, baring her to him. He took a slow, appreciative breath, his eyes drinking her in. The reverence in his gaze made her skin flush, made her pulse skitter.
“You are exquisite,” he murmured, running his knuckles along the slope of her breast.
She arched into his touch, desperate for more, but he was in no rush. He trailed his fingers lower, tracing the curve of her hip, then lower still. When his hand finally pressed between her thighs, she moaned, unable to stop herself.
His fingers stroked her, teasing, testing, slipping through her slick heat. He let out a low, approving sound. “Already so wet for me again,” he mused. “Tell me, Clare, is this for me?”
“Yes,” she gasped, hips tilting toward his hand, desperate for more.
“Good,” he murmured, rewarding her with a deep stroke of his fingers, his touch firm, unrelenting. She clenched aroundhim, the pressure coiling low, unbearable and perfect all at once. But just as the pleasure built to a peak, he withdrew, his hand leaving her aching and empty.
She let out a soft whimper, her body protesting the loss.
He caught her chin between his fingers, tilting her face up. “I told you, love,” he said, his voice rich with amusement and wicked promise. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”
She bit her lip, equal parts frustration and desperate need swirling inside her. “Then don’t make me wait too long.”
His eyes flashed with something primal. “You don’t get to make demands here,” he murmured, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the column of her throat. “But I’ll give you what you need. When I’m ready.”
Clare’s breath hitched as he moved lower, trailing kisses down her body, his lips and tongue branding her with every touch. When he settled between her thighs, she barely had a moment to brace herself before his mouth found her.
Her fingers fisted in the sheets, her body arching off the mattress as he licked into her with slow, devastating precision. He feasted on her, his tongue stroking, teasing, driving her to the very edge of madness. Every flick, every deliberate swirl sent fire rushing through her veins.
And then he stopped.
She nearly sobbed at the loss.
Ash lifted his head, his eyes burning into hers. “Not yet,” he murmured.
She whimpered, trembling beneath him. “Ash… Please.”
His smirk was pure sin. “That’s what I wanted,” he murmured. “You begging for it.”
He rose above her then, shifting her beneath him, his hands gripping her thighs, positioning her exactly how he wanted. He unfastened his breeches, his movements slow, deliberate, as if savoring her helpless anticipation. When he finally pressedagainst her, his thick length teasing at her entrance, she let out a ragged moan, her entire body strung tight with need.
“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough.
She obeyed, her gaze locking onto his.
Then, in one slow, unyielding thrust, he pushed inside her, seating himself to the hilt.
A sharp gasp tore from her throat. He was thick, filling her completely, stretching her in the most devastating way. She clenched around him, her nails biting into his back as she struggled to catch her breath.
Ash groaned, his head dropping to her shoulder. “Bloody hell, Clare.”
She trembled beneath him, her entire body alight with sensation. “Move,” she breathed. “Please.”
He lifted his head, his gaze molten as he pulled back, then thrust into her again, harder this time.
And then there was nothing but pleasure.
He set a punishing rhythm, driving into her with deep, claiming strokes. Each thrust sent white-hot bliss spiraling through her, pulling her closer and closer to the edge. She could hear the ragged sound of their breathing, the way his name tore from her lips, the dark praise he whispered in her ear as he took her apart piece by piece.
