Page 54 of Given

A growl rumbled in my chest as I fingered him, sliding in and out of his tight channel while he rocked and moaned and clenched around me.

After a minute, he rose up. “Enough, baby. Fuck me.”

I freed my dick from underneath him and got myself nice and slick. I gripped my base and held my dick steady for him. “Sit the fuck down,” I said gruffly. “Take that ride you wanted.”

He took over, grabbing my dick and getting himself into position. Eyes locked with mine, he sank down slowly.

Heat. Pressure. Perfection. I groaned deep in my throat as his ass swallowed me up. Inch by inch, he took me, opening so sweetly for my dick, his breath hitching as he relaxed into the stretch. He was so fucking good at this. He made it look easy when it was anything but. I drank him in greedily, running my gaze up and down his tight, toned body. Smooth everywhere because that was the way I liked him.

When his buttocks met my thighs, he tipped his head back and groaned. “Mmmm, that’s my fucking spot.” He lifted up slightly and slid back down, scooping his hips in a slow sweep—a simple, carnal move that sent sparks shooting down my spine. “Fuck, baby, that’s my spot. Love your big dick so much.”

“Use it,” I ordered. “Make yourself come.”

He rode me, and I let him set the pace. He reached back and braced himself with one hand on my thigh. He fell into a sexy, steady rhythm, his ass slapping my thighs and his dick bobbing wildly in the space between us. So gorgeous. Spine arched, he bounced ruthlessly, driving his ass onto my cock over and over, curses and cries falling from his lips. He ran a hand through his hair and held it there, the jewels on his fingers winking among the inky black strands. The firm curve of his bicep made my mouth water. I skimmed my palms up his thighs to his waist, my gaze running a path from his taut pecs to his heavy dick smacking back and forth between our stomachs. He was everything I’d ever wanted.

“Look at me,” I growled.

Silver eyes met mine. Held. He swiveled his hips, his hole clamping hard around me and his big cock swinging in a sexy arc.

“Fuck,” I grunted, and I knew I wasn’t going to last. I wanted to take him in every position. Flip him around and watch him fuck himself on my dick. Roll him under me and spread him wide and pound him into the bed. Put him on his hands and knees and make him yell until they could hear him in the streets of Lar Katerin. But after a week of sleeping beside him without touching him, I couldn’t wait any longer.

And I was done letting him lead. I dug my fingers into his waist and snapped my hips, thrusting hard. Bouncing him on my dick until his teeth clicked together. I pumped up and up, battering his hole. I set a bruising pace, my jaw clenched and my heart trying to pound from my chest. Sweat poured off both of us.

“Touch yourself,” I grunted. “Do it now.”

He grabbed his flailing dick and began to jerk. “Fuck! Oh baby, I’m coming. Fuck. Fuck!” His hand flew, his movements desperate and disjointed. With a fierce growl, he shot all over my chest. Thick, creamy ropes painted my stomach and pecs. A few drops spattered my chin.

I dug my heels into the bed and surged up, thrusting through the fucking ceiling, a wave of pleasure building high and then crashing over me. It sucked me under, drowning me in bliss. I slammed him onto my dick and came on a bellow, pumping my hot release into his ass.

When I caught my breath, I pulled him down and kissed him. Hot and feral. Our chests slid against each other, sweat and come and pounding hearts between us. Even sweaty and sticky and covered in me, he still smelled like cinnamon. Good enough to eat. I hitched one of his thighs higher on my hip. My softened dick slipped out of him, and I smoothed a hand down his back to his ass. I delved between his cheeks and stroked gently around his rim. He was loose and open, his hole quivering at my touch. My come seeped out of him. I caught it on a finger and pushed it back in. Scooped more off his balls and pushed that inside too. He moaned softly, a shiver rippling through him.

“You all right here?” I murmured, tracing a slow fingertip around his entrance.

He huffed against my mouth. “I can handle your dick.”

I kissed him and played with his ass for a few more minutes, until he sighed against my lips and then rolled off me and onto his back. We lay side by side, sweat cooling on our skin.

“What happened in the Sanctum this week?” I asked quietly.

Just as quietly, he said, “More blood rites than most people will see in their lifetime. I thought I knew every bit of blood magic there is to know, but Petru had some surprises up his sleeve.”

Unease crept through me. The High Priest of the Sanctum was something of a mysterious figure. Some whispered that he followed the Old Ways which, among other things, involved drinking prey to death and practicing live sacrifice during rites. Things that had led to wars in the past. Similar rumors had swirled around Laurent’s mother while she was alive. She’d denied them, of course. But she’d also been close with Petru. Had raised him up from a lowborn farmer’s son to High Priest of the Sanctum—an unprecedented climb.

Laurent turned his head on the pillow and looked at me. One corner of his mouth lifted. “Nothing like what you’re thinking.”

“Did any of it work?”

The humor in his expression faded. He faced the ceiling again and closed his eyes on a sigh. “I’ll keep trying.”

His thick, dark lashes brushed his cheeks. The skin under his eyes was smudged with purple. How had I not noticed before?

In my defense, I’d been…occupied.

“You need to feed. You’ve been neglecting yourself.”

He smiled without opening his eyes. “Are you the commander of my army or my nursemaid?”

I rolled. Grabbed him and rearranged us so his face was in my neck. Palmed the back of his head and held him there. “Drink.”

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