“Thirteen,” I groan out. He lets go of my hair and palms my ass cheeks apart. My legs are pinned together, locked by the pants at my feet and Lachlan’s knees.
“Nasty little queen,” he whispers, then bites his lip ring, brows furrowed in concentration as he stares down at where he’s spreading me. “No more, though. Your orgasms belong tomenow.”
The fat head of his cock notches against my slit. He’s huge. Bigger than anyone I’ve been with. Far bigger than George.
He pushes in a little, and I gasp out a sharp breath.
“Shh, shh, shh.” Our gazes snap together in the mirror again, and he nudges my tailbone down, angling my hips so he can sink in farther. Less than an inch.
It burns.It feels incredible.
“Just a little—Fuck, you’re so tight. Does it hurt?” I nod, and he breathes out a raspy chuckle. “I’ll bet it does.” He doesn’t let up; pushes in more. Splitting me apart. Remolding my flesh. Making a place for himself inside my body.
The burn overtakes me and I just … I can’t. I squirm forward, dipping my head against the vanity.
“Almost there,” he whispers, strong hands on my waist pulling me back.
“You said no lies,” I choke out.
He laughs again, dark and rich. “I did say that, didn’t I?” He presses my ass cheeks apart, and it helps a little, makes a tiny bit more room. “But I know what you need.” He sinks deeper. Impossibly deeper. “Even when you lie to me.”
I exhale long and low as his blunt head hits some final barrier inside of me at the same time as the coarse hair on his lower abdomen tickles my flesh.
He pauses for a moment, buried to the hilt, his hands bracketing my waist as his fingers gently stroke my flanks. He’spulling long, slow breaths in and shakily releasing them. Staring down at where we’re joined. Like this is too much for him, too.
He finds my gaze in the mirror once more. For a moment, the dominant fae beast who has me impaled on his cock disappears and my chivalrous friend is staring at me with gratitude shining in his sapphire eyes. “Is this okay? You’ll tell me if you’re not okay.”
Even though there’s not a sliver of space between our hips and he’s got me pinned to the edge of the vanity, I manage to push back against him ever so slightly. “I’m okay, Lachlan.”
At the sound of his name, he closes his eyes, tips his head back in worship, and begins to move.
He’s slow at first. Glacial retreats and controlled thrusts. Fingers caressing my spine and tangling in my hair. Whispered words of encouragement likegods, look at how beautiful you areandangle your hips up, sweetheartandfuckme, you feel so good.
The praise combined with his masterful strokes have me lost on a sea of bliss that’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Not to mention, I’ve never had sex in this position before. Respectable women do not bend over and let men fuck them like a brood mare.
But god, how incredible it feels to be undignified.
My sex pulses, tiny flutters that grow longer and more intense with each rock of Lachlan’s hips. He’s fisting my hair again, using it to guide my body where it feels best for him. Soon, I’m wracked by a tumultuous wave of pleasure and I’m?—
“Already?” He clucks his tongue, like he’s disappointed in me. “That can’t have been satisfying.”
But he’s wrong. It was world-shattering. And I can’t help it. Nor again when he hooks a hand under my knee and guides my right thigh up onto the vanity. He curves over my back, blanketing me with heated skin and soft hair and the coolpinprick of his nipple ring. When he drags out of me and thrusts back in, I can’t control myself, I just can’t, and I come again.
“F-f-fuck,” he groans against my nape, his breaths pulsing in time with my orgasm. “I must be going too easy on you. Wanted to torture you a bit longer. But you’re a greedy, dirty thing, aren’t you? Impatient. Couldn’t wait to soak my cock.”
I should be horrified by the things he’s saying. They’re a bit derogatory. Cruel, even. But I’m a dripping mess, and my body is on fire.
He drags his fangs along my shoulder, still moving inside me. “One more time and then it’s my turn, yeah?”
He finds my clit as he bites down on the soft muscle between my shoulder and my neck, pinning me in place beneath him. His fingertap, tap, tapsa soft, steady rhythm in time with his thrusts, and in seconds I’m comingagain. My breath fogs the mirror until he’s nothing more than a blur of gold and auburn behind me.
I am spent; used up, blissed out and fucked sore, and I think he must be able to tell that my body can’t take any more because he pulls out of me—slowly, gently—then turns me around and pushes me to my knees.
“Open.” His thumb hooks my chin, like he expects to have to force me, but I am so willing to please him that my mouth drops open and my tongue slides over my teeth.
“Good.” His eyes are glazed and full of wonder. As if he’s been waiting centuries to slip the tip of his cock into my mouth.
He cups my chin in one hand as he works himself with the other, his fist brushing against my tongue on every upstroke. He’s towering above me, brows narrowed, lips parted in sheer ecstasy. I’m on my knees, but I’ve never felt more powerful.
