Page 60 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

I couldn’t resist. I reached out to run a finger down the center of his stomach, watching his cock twitch when my wrist brushed it. Then I stroked that too and Donavyn groaned—then caught my hand.

“Unless you want to only touch… we can finish that way if you wish. But do not touch me now, Bren. I need keep control of myself. Please.”

It was so strange to see him plead. I smiled and bit my lip, nodding as I let him go.

He swayed towards me, yet still didn’t reach for me. His gaze burned.

Uncertain how to begin, I stepped right up to his toes, then did something I’d never done before.

I cupped his balls—surprised by how soft they were. The weight was less than I’d imagined too, and not unpleasant. His cock leaped again, and I felt his eyes on me as I held the weight of them, then bit my lip and got brave again.

I stroked fingers underneath, between his legs, and Donavyn shuddered.

He swayed again, but kept his rigid arms at his sides as I stroked up his inner thigh, then to his torso again, then flattened my palm on his chest and slid it up to cup his neck.

Donavyn stared down at me, his eyes blazing with hunger and need, searching my gaze, looking for my instruction.

I swallowed hard. “Kiss me.”

“How? What kind of—”

“Whatever you want. Whatever you feel. I just want you to kiss me.”

He stared one second longer, then took a deep breath and leaned right in, sliding both hands into the hair at my nape, urging me to raise my chin with his thumbs. We stared at each other for a single, shining moment as he searched my eyes once more, then croaked, “I love you.”

And before I could respond, he opened his mouth on mine.

I sucked in, but he was slow at first, sipping, his tongue darting, flickering, but never settling.

Then he tilted his head and opened his mouth wider, his lips soft, dragging slowly across mine.

I couldn’t help leaning into him, arching as he deepened the kiss, but he continued to cradle my head, and his kiss remained slow.

He tasted me.

He teased me with his tongue.

His breath fluttered on my cheek, his thumbs stroking.

And when I grew impatient and pulled him harder against me, he tilted my head back and kissed his way down my throat, my neck, sucking, teasing lightly with teeth to raise goosebumps, laving with his tongue as I shivered.

“Touch me. Please,” I gasped.

“Where?” he growled against the skin of my throat.

“Where I want you.”

He took my mouth again, more forceful this time, but still slow, sucking on my tongue, still cradling my head with one hand—but the other slid down between us, pulling up at my nightgown, bunching it between us. Then he nudged my thighs apart, and reached for me.

I braced, already panting, uncertain, and left quivering as he stroked me so lightly it pebbled the skin on my ass.

But then, just as I was about to demand more, he teased me apart, groaning when his fingers slid easily against me.

My breath caught at his touch, and I clapped a hand to his shoulder to steady myself as he raised his head to watch me. Scared he might stop, I leaned my head back to press myself into his hand and let him take some of my weight.

Our eyes remained locked, and my pulse thudded in my head.

Then he entered me with one finger, beckoning and I inhaled sharply.