“Please, what, princess?” he says back, his tongue back on my clit, and he slowly pushes his fingers back inside me as I sob and tremble beneath him.“I want to hear you say it.”
The pleasure is so intense it’s almost pain at this point, my body alight with wanting, on the verge for so long.
“Please let me come,” I whine, dignity gone.
In answer, he fastens his mouth to my clit andsucks, at the same time adding a third finger so that I’m stretched around him, so full.
I come apart.
I shatter into a million pieces, my body an explosion of pleasure that whites out my vision. Stark’s hand grips the base of his cock firmly as he rides it out with me, mouth moaning against my clit as my orgasm goes on and onand on.
“Keep touching yourself,” I half-gasp to him in my head, and he does. And my orgasm, impossibly,keeps going. He’s so close to exploding, and it keeps my own pleasure peaking endlessly.
“Stark,” I say in his mind, “Stark, oh, goddess, Stark.” He pants, biting down hard on his lower lip to keep himself from coming. All while he pleasures himself for me, giving me his pleasure as my own so that I’m still free-falling through my climax, sensation never-ending.
It’s only once I start to come down that he puts both hands to my hips, yanking me to the edge of the bed so that my legs straddle him. His cock finds that nub of pleasure, and the jolt it gives both of us at once buoys me back up until I’m thrashing and moaning again.
“Please, yes, please, please, please,” I beg him, and he’s right there in my mind, aware how impossibly close to the edge I am again.
He can’t deny me, not anymore. With one hand, he positions himself against my entrance, and then I lose sense of reality for a moment as he pushes inside.
Hot, wet, tight, he’s so close already—
Stark pulls out and then thrusts inside again. He’s in me and I’m in him, as my slick walls tighten around his aching cock. The pleasure is blinding, he’s almost—
He picks up the pace; I clamp my legs around him. What thefuck. I didn’t know it waspossibleto feel this good—
“Fuck, Meryn!” Stark shouts, and I come again alongside him, a firestorm rocking through me.
He slams into me once more, twice, and he floods me with his release. I’m in his mind, drowning in his ecstasy as he comes harder than he ever has before.His pleasure and mine bind us closer and closer together until I can feel nothing else.
White-hot waves crash over him, both of us trembling, struggling for air through the intensity of it.
Slowly, my mind comes back, still joined with his, and for a second neither of us can form words. The warmth and the shared bliss of what we just did runs through us both in small aftershocks, and Stark reaches his arms around me and picks me up off the bunk, all while keeping us joined together.
He carefully spins me around until he can lie back on the small bunk mattress, with me straddled on top of him. I collapse into his chest and almost lose it again when his cock twitches inside me.
“Meryn,” I hear Stark say softly. My head is pressed to his chest, and his heartbeat gradually slows.
He lifts a languid hand up to my hair, stroking it, trailing fingers down my back.
“Mm-hmm,” I reply, nestling closer in.
“Next time you get the urge to sacrifice yourself, just remember what you’d be giving up,” he says, and I snort.
“Nobody is allowed to die until we have had the chance to do that at least a hundred more times,” I agree.
“A hundred thousand,” he counters, and I smile against his chest.
We let our minds stay entangled as we lie there, two hearts beating, two chests rising and falling with breath. I know the moment that he drifts off into sleep.
The next morning, we all gather on the deck once more, staring out at the lush green island that used to be barren. The tower is now almost hidden by green. Everyone’s focus keeps drifting back to the explosion of life, as if by looking at the island long enough, it’ll give up its secrets.
Lucien stands on the upper deck. His arms are crossed at the wrists, restingon the railing. His dark clothes drape from a golden pin at his shoulder and down over the long line of his body. His pale hair and skin glow in the morning sun.
Lucien clearly intends his figure to be dashing, but it’s his eyes that steal my attention. He stares out at the endless expanse of water through eyes that match its waves in hue. I struggle to read what’s hiding behind his gaze.
He doesn’t look smug or amused. He doesn’t look frustrated or annoyed.
