She’s breathless, panting and languid, but I need her undone.
I flip her onto her back and crawl between her legs. “What do you need, darling?” I ask, licking one nipple while I pinch the other.
“You. Inside me. Now.” Her tone is sharp, a warning that I won’t like what happens if I don’t follow her orders.
I grin, notch my cock at her entrance, and wait.
“Are you sure you want it?” I focus on her breasts, caressing one nipple gently while I torment the other until she’s writhing beneath me and canting her hips.
“Riven, if you don’t?—”
I slam into her all the way, not letting her finish the threat.
Her groan is eclipsed by mine.
She’s tight, wet perfection, and my heart skips a beat. I could live inside her.
Her heels slam into my lower back, forcing me deeper as she rocks against me. I give her what she wants, thrusting hard and fast until her moans are all I hear.
It’s messy, and loud, and perfect. There are no awkward adjustments or mismatched rhythms; her body moves with mine like we’ve done this in ten different lifetimes. Maybe we have. I know I won’t get enough of her in this one.
Digging my knees into the mattress, I prop both of her ankles on my right shoulder and lean forward until her toes nearly touch the cheap hotel headboard. And I fuck her. Without mercy or restraint. I fuck her as if it’s the only thing I’ll ever need to be good at.
My breath saws in and out of my lungs—I could use a break. I fuck her harder instead.
When she squirts around my cock, and the pressure forces me out, I fuck her with my fingers until her arousal drips into the crease of my elbow. Then I pick her up and put her on her hands and knees. She glances over her shoulder, sweat dripping down her temple, and frowns.
A second later, I land on my back.
“Not like that,” she says.
I raise my eyebrows. “Do you not enjoy it from behind?” Iwant to know everything about her. I’m greedy for her in every way.
“I love it from behind.” She crawls over me and grips my chin. “But I want to see you.”
She takes me completely off guard. My face glitches, a single band rolling down my neck and chest. It fizzles out before it reaches my legs. I don’t know why I’m surprised: Celine has made it abundantly clear that she’s not disgusted by this form.
When she guides me back inside her and sinks down to ride me, it takes all my focus not to come. I think of monsters tearing each other to pieces. Barthol’s desiccated corpse lying broken on the ice. Crag doingliterally anything.
It barely works. Celine has options. Devoted options. And while I’m confident in my ability to please her, I’m not arrogant enough to assume the others aren’t doing the same.
“The face stays?” I ask.
She nods. “The face stays.”
“What about this cock?” I ask, working a finger in beside it. “Do you want something bigger, darling?”
One of her eyebrows shoots up, and I focus carefully on the partial shift, holding her hips in place as I grow inside her.
She gasps. “T-that’s a neat trick.”
Using my grip on her waist, I drive her up and down, controlling the pace even with her on top. Celine takes it all, squeezing my neck with one hand and giving me the view of a lifetime while she rides me.
“Will you soak me again?” I intend for the question to sound confident. It comes out like I’m being actively strangled instead, which... I suppose I am in two places at once.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Do you want that?”
