“Bruja,” he moaned into my hair. “Más.” He grabbed my ass and began moving me faster.
I put my lips against his ear. “You want more?”
“Yes.”
My fingers dug into the sofa and lifted until only his tip was in before dropping onto him. Over and over, I repeated the motion.
“Fuck, Samara.” He threw his head back and groaned.
My thighs burned, but I didn’t stop. My clit rubbed against him with every downward thrust, and my orgasm built again.
“I’m going to come so fucking hard,” he growled. “Are you going to come with me? Are you going to come all over my cock?”
I nodded as frantic whimpers and keening moans spilled from me.
He kneaded my ass before he delivered a smack only seconds later. I clenched around him and fell headfirst into a mind-numbing orgasm.
“Yes, yes, yes!” I couldn’t control the wild, frantic movements of my hips anymore as pleasure crashed into me.
Val gripped my waist with bruising intensity and took command, his powerful thighs flexing beneath me as he thrust upward. Each movement sent electric jolts racing up my spine, making my vision blur at the edges. I was coming apart, dissolving into nothing but raw sensation and need.
With a final, devastating thrust, he buried himself impossibly deep. His cock flooded me with the liquid heat of his release.
I gasped against his neck as my body clenched greedily around him, milking every drop. My thighs quivered uncontrollably against his hips as he held me tightly against him, as if he couldn’t bear even a millimeter of separation between us while he emptied himself completely.
My body collapsed on top of him, and a tear escaped my eye. I was in big trouble.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
VAL
My body thrummed with energy as Samara slid off me, the warmth of her skin lingering. She gathered her scattered clothes, her eyes avoiding mine. The silence between us expanded, growing heavier with each passing second.
She was quiet. Too quiet. And not the comfortable silence we’d sometimes fallen into a long time ago, but something impenetrable.
I watched the sway of her hips as she went to find a bathroom, purple hair tumbling across her shoulders, and felt an unexpected tightness in my chest. I couldn’t decipher whether we were moving toward or away from what I wanted—whatever the hell that was.
I ran a shaking hand over my face and stood, looking around for my pants. It had been so long since I’d buried myself in a woman that I didn’t know if I should be concerned about the buzz coursing through me.
Maybe it was because she had royal blood. Or because we were on Earth.
“Was her blood as you imagined?” Amari’s gruff voice made me jump.
He was still facing the window but hadn’t moved. A pang of guilt swirled in my gut as I put on my clothes and walked toward him.
“It was.” I ran my hand down the smooth surface of his arm and grabbed his hand.
When I craved his touch most, he was stone, unyielding and cold. It was a unique form of torture, having him present yet periodically untouchable, especially now when my nerves still sang from Samara’s touch and craved more.
“You aren’t angry, are you?” I pressed my lips to his arm.
His head turned slightly, and I looked up to meet his eyes, which never failed to send my heartbeat fluttering.
“Sad I missed out. Need all the energy I can get.”
“You’re worried.” I rested my cheek against his arm, the cool surface soothing my skin. It was almost healed thanks to Samara’s blood.
“The sun turned me solid.” He grunted, which usually meant it was becoming harder for him to speak in his half-set state. “You burned. Are you not?”
