Page 117 of Courting War
“Let me undress you, sir.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said as if he were a soldier following an order.
She ground her hips against him tauntingly, and he growled. She unbuttoned—one by one—his tailcoat, her eyes locked on his, dirty desires lingering in them. A mischievous grin climbed his face as he watched her progress.
When she got to the last button, she slid his arms through the sleeves and tossed the coat onto the floor. Then she pulled his shirt out of his trousers and swiftly relieved him of it, finally exposing his godlike, chiseled body.
The man was perfection.
Kellyn undid her bodice strings and pulled her dress over her head, leaving her in her corset and shift. Slowly, mockingly, he undid her corset while kissing her neck.
He was killing her.
Getting her corset off, he grunted and stole her lips again, starving and demanding to be satiated.
Theo whimpered, and her hands clawed at his back. She needed more. She needed all of him.
His kiss was an enchantment. It was every desire she’d ever had twisted into one, not because he was more masterful than all her other partners—although there was that—but because she’d never felt an emotion like this. It consumed her as much as the kiss, and it was no longer enough to be locked together only by their lips. She needed to be forged with him.
“More, Kel,” she moaned into his lips. “I need all of you.”
He pulled away, panting, and catching his breath. “You’re a goddess.”
Confusion knotted her intestines. “Yes?”
“I have a couple of ideas of how to worship you.” His hand drew to her core.
“Oh?” She arched a brow, and her breath hitched as he lifted her onto the rock edge out of the water and slipped a finger through the opening in her cotton drawers, teasing her before stroking her inner thigh and up to her stomach, sending a lick of heat in its wake. Curling his fingers into her drawers, he slowly, tauntingly, pulled them down to her ankles.
“Now, here is how one worships a goddess,” he said in a low, dark voice dripping with wildfire.
He kissed her inner knee and placed his hands on her pelvis before parting her folds and bringing his mouth to her—kissing her most forbidden parts, licking her clitoris like he was formed for just this task, and proving that he was far more talented with his tongue than his hands. But she knew the depths of her wrongness when he plunged two fingers into her soft opening and stroked that glorious spot. The man was simply talent manifested.
Theo bucked and moaned the building desire nearly unbearable. “Oh, my . . . oh,” she whimpered, her fingers tightening in his hair and pressing him harder down on her. “I like this worshi—”
She could no longer speak, trembling, her passion peakeduntil she lost control and flew apart under his touch, her body shaking with pure pleasure.
She cried out to the night, the stars, and destiny.
Kellyn caught her cries with his mouth and climbed out of the pool himself. He lifted her chemise past her breasts, breaking the kiss only long enough to expose her naked to the world.
“Not alone,” she gasped, catching his lips, and tugging his trousers down, finally revealing his beautiful length.
She breathed, stoking a finger down his shaft, which twitched at the touch. He sucked in a sharp breath, and her hand circled him, stroking him in slow, languorous movements as she positioned his tip to her opening.
Kellyn growled in pleasure.
“Good, I need you.” Theo sighed and seized his ass. “Now.”
Then he plunged inside of her, and nothing else existed but him. Now, they were forged together in destiny—in prophecy—linked forever, and their strings of life danced and mingled. Intertwining.
Kellyn kissed her temple as he surged deeper inside her, and she clenched around him, gasping. The pleasure was too intense—tooright. “Kel,” she moaned, digging her heels into his back.
He was her ending and begging and everything that made life enjoyable. He was a piece of healing for her soul; no matter what happened in her lengthy, unending life, her echo was no longer hollow, and she would never forget this and cherish it. Forever.
Loveit forever.
One long, thick, slow thrust and her hips rocked up to meet him, seating him to the hilt.
