Their lips fold, spreading and rolling together. His tongue passes into her, swats into her, the tip riding along her own tongue. They coil, sweeping into a delirious rhythm—a living, sighing, teeming thing.
A moan skitters up her throat, and he catches it. In turn, he emits a guttural noise, the vibration shimmering across her flesh, radiating to the core. She feels that sound flex between her thighs, causing the muscles to tighten.
As his wet tongue strokes into her mouth with a rough tempo, she entwines with him. Her digits climb into his hair, and one of his palms braces around her nape, the other scaling down to her buttocks. Their bodies meld, her ample form snuggling into his angular one as they lunge into the kiss. Teeth scrape, and lips quiver, and tongues probe.
Gasping for air, Malice pulls back to rest his forehead against hers. Those brazen eyes fill her vision as she feels her dress loosen from behind. She reciprocates by fumbling with his leather sweater, which conceals too much of him.
Her belly takes flight, flapping in anticipation, which is odd. They’ve done this multiple times, from numerous angles, on a variety of surfaces.
Has she ever been nervous with him?
Yes. But never this nervous.
She has never made love to Malice—onlyto Malice.
Wonder whips the sweater over his head, throwing it somewhere, anywhere, elsewhere. The straps of her dress tumble over her shoulders, the garment ready to slip from her completely.
They sink to the grass, her back reclining, the blades of green tickling her elbows and heels. Malice falls into the gap between her thighs, his weight a delicious relief. Her legs hitch around his hips, her knees pitching high as his head dips. And oh Fates, he sucks the pliable flesh of her neck, right where it meets her clavicles.
Wonder mewls, and he hums, increasing the pressure. The result is almost hallucinatory, electrifying her senses.
Dragging down the gown’s neckline, he bares a breast, swollen to his view. “What a little pearl,” he mumbles. “I need to have that.”
His lips find the center, drawing the pert nipple between his ivories. Wonder writhes. His tongue is a torment, tugging her into his mouth, circling and lapping while his talons trace the slumped straps of the gown.
She protests when he changes his mind and inches away, which only incites a black chuckle. Curse him.
Suspending himself above her, Malice tosses Wonder a wicked, lopsided grin as he enjoys the prickles along her skin. Without warning, those nails give a flick, shearing the threads. Limp, the dress drizzles down her body.
Malice chucks the garment aside and appraises Wonder as though he’s never seen her breasts and stomach and thighs, nor the private center of her limbs. The thick, heavy-lidded expression on his face causes that spot to throb. It pulses, growing damp from his stare.
A line of raised tissue runs across his heart, where a lava rock arrow had pierced him through. Her hands map the bumpy pulp of skin there, dulled from an orchid purple to a delphinium pink, while his pulse rams against her fingertips. Then she continues to the contours of his torso, the expanse of muscle, and the taper of hair at his navel.
He’s hard and smootheverywhere. She sees this when the jeans come off. He leans away to strip the coarse material from his body, kicking the garment aside, exposing himself to her.
Crawling back to Wonder, Malice plants kisses from her ankles, to her ribcage, to her nipples. Then he inhales the flowers around her wrist, the only adornment she’s wearing.
Sliding into her arms and limbs, his pelvis settles onto hers, stiffness sinking against moisture. It’s heavenly, this glide of skin on skin.
Wonder straps her thighs around his waist, her feet hooking over his backside. She combs through his curls, and he tilts his chin, wanting more. He gazes at her in wild reverence.
“I’m going to watch you,” he murmurs. “I’m going to watch everything my body does to yours. I’m going to watch everything you feel.”
She bites his upper lip. “Then make me feel.”
“I’ll study each look, each sound, each movement,” he intones. “I’ll learn everything, all over again. I’ll unravel every secret.”
“Then unravel me,” she whispers.
They’re panting, exchanging haggard breaths. His claws glide over her cheekbones, his hips inching into hers, a subtle grind that pushes a whine out of her, a rumble out of him.
“On one condition,” she moans.
“A bargain?” He quirks a brow. “I like bargains.”
“Only if I get to conquer you, too.”
“Ahh, but you’ve already done that.”