Page 52 of The Stygian Crown

Kara snarled in frustration. She attacked him, claiming his mouth and pulling him toward her. She bit his lip until she tasted blood. She gripped his slick cock and ran her hand from root to tip, milking it. It jumped in her hand.

He groaned and grabbed her hands, holding them captive against his chest. His eyes burned bright, his mark a deep red.

“Say it,” he growled. “Say please.” His demanding tone sent more pulses to her greedy core.

Kara stared at him, her entire body thrumming. His golden eyes burned with desire, with the promise of the pleasure only he could give. She tugged his hand to her mouth. The rough callous of his thumb brushed her lower lip. She drew his finger between her lips and sucked, her eyes half-lidded with lust. She could taste herself on his fingers.

She needed this more than life. “Please fuck me, Logan.”

The control he’d be holding onto for a lifetime snapped. Logan buried his entire length inside her with one thrust. Kara instantly came, convulsing around him. Her pussy clenched at him, sucking him in. She dug her nails into his biceps as ecstasy flooded her. The moan he made was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard. The muscles in her thighs were still spasming as she began to come down, floating back to earth.

“Beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. His teeth tugged at her earlobe and nipped her neck, sending her climbing all over again.

He pulled back, nestling his cockhead in the mouth of her pussy, circling there. Kara’s hips surged against him. Then he sunk slowly into her clutching depth, and they both groaned.

“You're mine,” he growled into her ear as he thrust in and out of her with rough pumps of his hips, claiming her body.

“I’m yours.” She didn’t know how many times she repeated it, mindless as he moved inside her, stretching her out with his large size. She wrapped her hands around his neck and her legs around his back as he fucked her on the edge of the altar. The wet slap of flesh filled the clearing. Logan gripped her hips hard enough to bruise, lost to sensation.

Kara fell back against the stone, abandoning herself to pleasure. Logan lifted her legs and hooked them over his shoulders, pushing the tops of her thighs to her chest as he leaned forward and plunged inside her. The position let him go even deeper, and he rubbed against a delicious spot inside her each time he thrust. His gaze went unfocused, his movements rougher as he neared climax.

He began rubbing small circles around her clit as he ravaged her, and fire climbed up her spine. Her back arched violently as another orgasm swept her, shuddering through her body. Possessed by something she didn’t understand, Kara grabbed his wrist and bit into the skin of his mark until he bled. His whole body convulsed, his cock swelling as he spilled inside her, filling her up.

“Kara,” he groaned, collapsing on top of her, hissing through his teeth when she adjusted her hips. He brushed a sweaty strand of her hair out of her face and gathered her in his arms. “That was…”

“I know.” She was utterly spent. Drunk on pleasure. Floating on a cloud.

Logan slid his hands behind her back and lifted her against him, still inside her. He stood and carried her away from the stone. She winced as air hit her scraped thighs and back.

“Are you hurt?” There was a thread of dread in his voice.

Kara nuzzled into his neck and rested her head there, breathing him in. “I’m fine, Logan. Take me to your bed.”

He rumbled his assent.

Chapter Twelve

Kara awoke splayed on top of Logan. Each of his breaths raised her as his chest expanded and sank. Her skin was gross with dried sweat, and she was uncomfortably wet between her thighs. The night before came back to her slowly. Their passionate mating at the skeleton tree, then they’d dressed and ridden back to the castle, where they made love in his bed multiple times. They’d fallen asleep in post-coital bliss, and she hadn’t had an opportunity to wash herself. The room reeked of sex. Her entire body ached. She was sore between her legs from their frenzied lovemaking, and scrapes from the stone altar littered her back and thighs. Even her mark was sore, and when she glanced at it, she saw it was lightly bruised with teeth marks.

She blushed to remember how she’d bitten him during her orgasm, discovering the delicious pain-pleasure response it triggered. When they returned to the palace, she’d begged Logan to bite her, to feast on her body, to pull her hair and fuck her with a hand tight on her throat. She’d ridden him, then he’d taken her from behind, clutching her ass as he filled her. They’d made love again and again, eager to make up for lost time.

Kara’s hand crept to her throat, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the familiar thong of the contraception charm. She’d forgotten all about it in their frenzy, had begged him to fill her with his seed multiple times. The memory of it sent tingles of sensation shooting towards her core.

She’d never been in a position to desire children. Researchers at the mage college claimed the curse wasn’t genetic, but she worried about passing it on nonetheless. If she was truly of Namirah’s line—though she still struggled to admit it—there could be an inherited element to her curse.

Logan’s breathing changed, and when she glanced at him, his eyes were on her, tracing her face. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be here when I woke up.”

A pang went through Kara’s chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

A sound of pleasure rumbled from his throat.

“How rough do I look?”

He frowned and flipped her over onto her back, diving for her neck and kissing and nibbling there. He moved along her jaw until he reached her lips. “You look,” he said between kisses, “like a woman well-loved.” He sniffed deeply and smiled. “Though we could both do with a bath. Good thing our room has a tub,” he purred. “Our last encounter in one ended too soon.”

Kara laughed and returned his kisses. “Ourroom?”

“I want you to stay with me.”

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