Page 80 of Cursed Shadows 1

I let my lashes flutter against the rainfall.

Limp, I’m pinned to the cushion, my legs useless over his shoulders, and no space to move myself against his face.

There’s no frenzy in him. No true surge of domination that I often found in our more intimate moments.

Victims to the rain, my clothes cling to my soaked skin, hair plastered to my temples and cheeks, and my dark male between my spread thighs—his kiss finally gliding up to my clit.

I moan something gravelled.

A shudder twitches my leg over his shoulder.

In answer, his growl rumbles through him, and I feel the vibrations on my cunt.

Still, through the hunger he must be battling, the feral need to take me now, he keeps his mouth on my clit. It’s slow and gentle, like one never ending, patient kiss. Like I’m precious to him, like he needs to be gentle with me always, like if he does what his nature calls him to do, and fucks me roughly, then I’ll break.

Oh fucking fuck, he steals my clit in his warm mouthandhe sucks.

The groan that comes from my damp, parted lips is guttural enough to bring a blush to my cheeks, not nearly as feminine as I’d want it to be for him.

But if he’s displeased, I don’t hear that in his growl, I don’t feel that in the suction of his tongued kiss.

My lips part around silent words I speak over and over.

Yes, yes, yes.

Dax, Dax, Dax.

The higher my pleasure climbs, the harsher my breaths become. I don’t dare move my arms sprawled at my sides, no matter how much I want to reach down for him, fist his hair in my grip or take his hands in mine.

I’m not fool enough to move beyond the curling of my toes, the frown on my face as pleasure nips at me all over, and the rise and fall of my breasts as I scale that climb.

I had no idea how much I needed this from him. I craved it constantly, thought about it during the Quiet, in bed, each time I wandered my hand to the spot he works on. But to actually feel it—the absolute tenderness, the lovingness in the way he savours me…

It doesn’t just fuel my body, it soothes my heart.

Tears fall from my eyes. Happy and miserable ones.

My face twists with a frown, the strain of my nearing climax tensing every muscle in my body.

The tears slip away down my temples, into my hair, the ones that aren’t washed away by the rain.

My moan hitches—it silences for a beat.

Daxeel doesn’t pick up the pace or draw away, he keeps his warm and soft mouth on my clit, his tongue flicking and circling—

So fucking loving.

My back arches with the sudden hollow sound I shout. Something of a cry, something that sounds too much like his name.

And I tremble in his firm hold, pinned to the cushion, and my hands fisting nothing but damp air.

I ride out the shudders of my climax on his mouth.

Still, he grazes such soft kisses over the quiver of my core. A chaste kiss to my bud, a graze over my lips, a gentle flick of the tongue to taste my honey.

It’s only when my legs—draped over his shoulders—stop trembling that he stops. He turns to rest his head on the apex of my thigh. There, it stays for a moment.

Hands drift from my waist, then follow the curve of my hips to the width of my thighs. I stay utterly still and relaxed for him, I keep my submission, the one his nature demands of me.

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