Page 142 of Curse the Fae

“Yes?” I ask. “That is your choice?”

“That’s my choice.” Her teary laugh rings through the cave. “Can’t you tell?”

Her joy ripples through my ears like a spring, her blood flows through her veins, and her body warms against mine. Cove perches sideways on my lap. Together, we uncap the vial. Whiffs of jasmine saturate the air as she extends her tongue.

My retinas spark. With our gazes pinned, I overturn the bottle. A droplet falls on her palate.

“Swallow,” I rasp.

As she does, her slender throat contorts. I imagine the elixir dissolving inside her. Instantly, those teal eyes flash, and her complexion flushes.

It is done.

But no, we are far from done. And she knows it.

We stare at one another. Voracious. Possessive. Her fingers climb my abdomen, the nails digging into the flesh of my shoulders.

“Kiss me,” she whispers.

I obey. Cupping the back of her head, I sink my mouth into hers. We fuse into one, tilting and burrowing deeply. I lick the seam of her lips until they split, my tongue striking into her. Fables help me, even her moan tastes sweet. The effect oozes like nectar and pools into my cock. And when she curls that little tongue with mine, my blood surges.

We move at the same time. Hectic, she scrambles astride my waist as I yank her into me. Our mouths slant, lock, and undulate. My tongues flexes with hers, the pace frantic. She writhes atop my prick, grinding her folds and ass on me, to the point of pain. Between her quavering thighs, the molten humidity radiating from her cunt drives me to madness.

“Fuck,” I seethe.

“Now,” she answers.

Yes. I’m going to feast on her. I’m going to fill her so thoroughly with my cock, she will have no room left inside. I’m going to drain her of every last moan.

On a growl, I yank her so close, her legs splay wide around my waist. The viper in me takes over. Trapping her like this, with her body at my disposal, I arch her backward. Her breasts swell into the air, her nipples toughening into shells.

Leaning over, I seize the first nipple between my teeth. A broken cry vaults from her mouth. The whimpering sounds multiply as I swathe my tongue over the erect peak, tracing until it’s crimson and ruched to my satisfaction. With a hum, my mouth fastens around the second puckered nipple, then sucks.

I repeat the motions, exerting pressure. All the while, my tongue flicks at the crest, lapping the morsel into a tight bud. I feed on it the way I have devoured the dainty protrusion of skin between her legs.

Cove’s mouth falls open, plaintive whines leaping from her lips. She clutches my skull and gyrates into me, her hips rolling. Wetness leaks from the cleft of her thighs and coats the distended head of my cock.

My length stands high, the stiff flesh aching for her. Good, for I want this to hurt. I want this to be excruciating, so that when I sink into her, it is earned.

I draw on her nipples, then nip them, then suck her into another stupor. But when the folds of her body part around my crown, we rock into motion.

I haul Cove upright just as she vaults toward me. Rather than facing one another, she wheels toward the pond, aligning her back with my torso. The maneuver is equally bashful and ambitious.

My mouth ticks. So, that is what she wants.

Cove raises her arms behind her and latches onto my nape. The instant she wiggles her ass into my prick, I hiss and catch her hips. I reach around to spread her thighs over mine, positioning her damp slot above my shaft. The area drenches with heat and a pulsating tension.

My canines grind. Fables almighty, she’s dripping on me.

I bite the top of her ear, then murmur, “Breathe for me.”

And my hips pitch upward. Cove gives a hard cry as my cock lunges into her dark, sweet core. Her frame bows, her head lolling on my shoulder.

My forehead lands on her temple. I groan with her, the hot slickness of her walls sealing around me. We pause on the brink, drag air into our lungs, and savor the feeling.

Then we throw ourselves into it.

With measured thrusts, I pump my length into her. Cove angles her hips and catches every rotation of my waist. Our moans converge, in cadence with our heaving movements.

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