He ignored her answering snarl, throwing his head back in a low, dark laugh, his wings shivering.
His heated gaze caressed her naked body, his lips parted and sharp canines gleaming. “You want my fingers or my tongue first?”
“Both.”
“Ravenous, exquisite little human,” he chuckled, squeezing his cock.
“Tristan,”she nearly screamed.
He laid back on his wings on the bed and tugged at her arm, guiding her to hover over his face.
Her eyes went wide as she stared down at him, his silky feathers tickling her knees.
Curving his hands around her ass, he pulled her down and a strangled moan forced her head back at the deliciously soft glide of his wet tongue against her swollen flesh.
He pushed two long, dexterous fingers inside her while flicking and sucking her sensitized clit, and she clenched around him as that glorious tension built again.
Abandoning any self-consciousness, she rode his face, drowning in the heady sensations of his warm mouth, his skilled fingers, his sexy grunts of appreciation rumbling up through her. She trailed her hands up her body to cup her breasts, pinch her nipples, and he pulled his mouth away to admire the view.
“Holy High Gods,” he groaned, splaying a hand across her stomach. “You look so fucking gorgeous when you’re about to come.”
He licked her again, pumping his hand between her legs, and her entire body bunched in on itself, then pushed out in a glorious, thigh-shaking explosion.
She crashed down onto him, panting, each breath crushing her breasts against his chest. He nuzzled her neck and wrapped his arms around her, his hips gently rocking his cock against her thigh and slicking it with moisture.
He ran his fingers through her hair, rubbing at her scalp as she traced her fingertips along his collarbone. “I intend to make that happen many,manymore times tonight. Think you can handle it?”
She’d never wanted to be ruined so badly. Wanted him to turn her into a mindless, senseless pile of quivering flesh and bones. Wanted to know nothing except his taste, his touch, his body. She was done worrying about the consequences. Well, except for one.
“Wait,” she pressed a hand against his chest. “I’m not… I’ve never… I’m not taking anything to prevent pregnancy.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his palm lingering on her cheek. “I’m under an infertility spell. Stipulation of my exile.”
She exhaled a relieved breath, even as her heart clenched for everything his brother, his family, had taken from him. Though he didn’t look the least bit upset about it at the moment.
“Okay,” she breathed. “Destroy me.”
He flipped her onto her back, then knelt before her and draped her legs around his waist.
“Never,” he whispered as he pushed into her, resting in her shallows, giving her body time to adjust to the sheer size of him.
He slid in agonizingly slowly, then retreated, filling her up in increments. His eyes glistened with something akin to worship. He was shaking, holding his breath, restraining himself from the frenzy she could tell he so desperately wanted to unleash.
His tenderness tore through her, ripping apart her insides more forcefully than his brutality ever could.
He reached a point where she wasn’t sure he could go any further, his progress halted by some barrier inside of her. She felt a tiny pinch and held her breath.
He leaned down, his wings rising behind him, and pressed his glorious weight on top of her. He cupped his hands against the crown of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he breathed against her mouth. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you like this.” He gazed into her eyes. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, and bit his lower lip. Permission. His magic sparkled through her veins, stealing the pain as he thrust forward and seated himself fully.
Then began to move.
Every part of her narrowed to the place between her thighs where they were joined and a sense of fullness, a completeness she’d never known, consumed her. As if a missing piece of her soul suddenly sighed into place.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, resting her ankles on the backs of his hard thighs, feeling as though she were dying and being reborn with each one of his powerful thrusts.
