Page 88 of Black Castle

Yes, she did love how Zev kissed her—bruising, punishing, all-consuming. A storm of violence and possession.

But Lucan’s kiss is different. Lingering, slow. A build-up so tortuous, so unbearably good it makes her chest ache.

Her lungs scream for air but she doesn’t want to break away. And when they do, their foreheads touch, breaths mingling in the charged space between them.

“Can I?” he whispers against her lips, his fingers hovering over the zipper of her jeans.

She nods, her own hands working fast, unhooking the button, pulling down the zipper. She doesn’t know how it happens next, but in a second, the jeans are gone, leaving her in nothing but lace.

Lifting her effortlessly, he wraps her legs around his waist, his swollen lips finding hers again as he carries her across the room. She barely notices where they are going until she feels the cool sheet against her overheated skin.

She wastes no time, her fingers hooking around the band of her panties, pulling it off in seconds. His shirt follows, then his belt, his pants.

Her breath catches when he slides off his boxers.

The sight of him—hard, thick, impossibly big—makes her pulse stutter. Then the memories of last night flicker in her mind. The way Zev stretched her, filled her, ruined her.

His weight dips the bed as he settles between her opened legs. His lips hover over hers. “I—I have never done this before.” He cups her cheek. “I Just want you to feel good. Tell me if I’m doing it right?”

“You’re already doing so great,” she cradles his face tenderly, her lips brushing against his. “Just keep the pace, don’t overthink, follow the rhythm.”

A soft smile grazes his lips, his eyes shining with pride. “Okay.”

He doesn’t rush, he takes his time, dragging his mouth down the valley of her heaving breasts, down, down, down, until he is settling between her thighs.

His lips graze her inner thigh, a warm, teasing breath fanning over her dripping core. And her breath hitches, fingers fisting the sheet.

She is losing her mind, and he is taking his time.

“Fuck, do it, Lucan,” she begs, arching towards him.

A quiet, breathy chuckle rumbles from his chest before he swipes out his warm tongue, flicking against her swollen clit.

“Oh, god!” she chokes out a gasp, back arching, her nails digging into the sheet. Then she sucks, slow and deep, his fingers locking around her thigh to keep her from escaping the onslaught.

“God, yes, you’re doing so good.”

She writhes, moaning, shaking as his tongue fucks her mercilessly.

The pleasure is too much. And yet, not enough.

She tugs at his silky hair, her hips rolling to meet his tongue, needing more, more, just a little bit more.

He hums against her, the vibration sending shockwave to her spine. Then, his fingers join in, plunging inside her, curling, stroking that spot that she has no clue how he knows makes her body convulse.

She is unraveling, falling apart at the seams.

She is close, so close.

“I—oh, fuck, Lucan, please.”

Her body seizes, her breath shattering as the pleasure clashes over her, drowning her in waves of blinding heat.

She barely has time to come down as he is suddenly over her, his body pressing against her, his mouth on her.

She tastes herself on his tongue, and it makes her dizzy with need.

“Don’t stop yet.” She grinds against him, feeling his thick length pressing into her soaked entrance, and he groans, low and guttural.

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