The next thing she knew, the room was bathed in a soft light, the bedside lamp highlighting his exquisite form.
“I want to watch you,” he said, his hands tucked beneath his head in a casual yet arrogant move.
Long and lean, every muscle defined, his biceps bulged, his pecs flexed. His golden skin was dotted with scars he’d gotten through the years, or rather centuries. Yet they didn’t take away from the masculine beauty he presented.
“Touch yourself,” Obsidian instructed, the soft rumble an aphrodisiac.
Her hands moved to her breasts as she worked her hips forward and back. Penelope closed her eyes, taking her pleasure from him. His gaze penetrated through her. He was watching every move, his hips shifting from time to time, pushing up into her. There was no frantic rush, just two bodies moving as one, the friction so intense she could feel every nerve in her body waking to find the source.
Although he appeared relaxed, completely unaffected, there was a slight tremble under Obsidian’s skin. He was enjoying this as much as she was, but for some reason, he felt the need to pretend otherwise. Or perhaps he was simply enjoying the show.
Leaning forward, Penelope pressed her hands to his chest, held his intense gaze. She could see through the facade. The way his heart beat just a little harder than normal, thumping against her palms as she used the hard planes of his body to leverage herself up, then dropped back down.
He groaned softly, silver eyes glittering, glowing.
She did it again and again, noticing the tension in the lines around his mouth and eyes tighten. He was going to snap any second, she could feel it. And though she wasn’t sure that was a good thing, Penelope couldn’t stop herself from pushing him closer and closer to that edge.
“Be careful,ayreme. You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
She didn’t. Nor did she care. This man had turned her into someone she didn’t recognize, and she liked that woman. She wasn’t Little Red Riding Hood slipping through the forest. She was taking the big bad wolf head on, ready for anything he could throw at her.
Penelope worked her hips faster, taking him to the hilt, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more and he knew it.
His hands came from under his head, slowly gliding over her thighs, stilling her with a firm grip. She groaned her frustration when the blessed friction ceased. He answered by flipping her onto her back, coming over her, and driving deep inside.
She screamed, pleasure and pain obliterating her mind. She reached for him, arms circling his neck as she held on. He pounded into her, savage and wild and utterly depraved, a need so deep Penelope could feel it in her soul. It intoxicated her, made her crave more, never wanting that moment to end. Her orgasm crested, unintelligible sounds coming out of her as she reached for another, desperate for him to provide.
Obsidian didn’t disappoint, relentless in his pursuit. He ordered another orgasm and she gave. Another and she surrendered again. Her body was weak when he demanded one more. Penelope shook her head. It was impossible, but he seemed to believe otherwise. His hand tucked under her thigh as he shifted his hips, changing the angle and proving once again that he reigned supreme over her body.
This time, when she cried out, he followed her over, her name a rough grumble on his lips.
“Sleep,ayreme,” he whispered, rolling off her and pulling her against him.
Truth was, she was exhausted. The past couple of weeks had been taxing on both her body and her mind, yet she found it difficult to close her eyes.
Obsidian stroked her hair and Penelope sighed against him. It felt good to be held, something she’d never had before him.
She turned into him, pressing her lips to his chest. His big hand curled around the back of her head, strong and reassuring, even though it also reminded her of how incredibly giant he was. He towered over her, surrounded her. It should’ve been intimidating, but it wasn’t.
Needless to say, she was in love with him, her heart tethered to his.
In the twenty-eight years she’d had in this life, Penelope had never met a man who held her interest for longer than a minute. A few she’d considered friends with benefits, even gotten close to. She had always figured it was a fault of hers. A lack of passion that she’d been born to endure. And while she was a woman who knew how to satisfy her own needs, she’d never felt an unbridled attraction to a man.
Not the way she did now. For Obsidian.
Overwhelming, powerful. Distracting.
Eternal.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sunday, August 11, 2019
SITTINGATTHEKITCHENISLAND, OBSIDIANWATCHEDPenelope as she talked softly with the Fae, the females drinking wine while everyone else worked around them.
Although it was Sunday and they’d all had a late night at the club, the day had passed once again, and everyone was back to business as usual. Laptops and iPads were scattered across the granite top, fingers flying over keys as they worked diligently to identify their targets. With four moreamsouelotsyet to be identified, no one was letting up in their pursuit.
At the same time, they were trying to get a bead on Perfidious, find out if he was close. Obsidian was grateful the demon hadn’t made a move, but the more days that passed without a hint of him, the more his tension grew. The last thing he wanted was for them to get lax, to think that the security of the mansion would protect them.
