Page 62 of Heartsong
“Is it working?”
He watched her throat bob on a swallow, and he almost didn’t hear nor believe it when she admitted on a quiet exhale, “Yes.”
With her admission, the urgency and frustration he’d felt over the past weeks drained away. Left in their wake, a delicious heat licked up his spine. He still felt the urge to grab her and crush her to him, but he could go slow. Leaning an arm above her head on the cabinets, Frey bent down, indulging in the sensual vision his Anna made, watching him come for her.
Her pupils had blown wide again, and her chest rose and fell at a quick, hypnotic pace.
She didn’t protest, didn’t stop him.
When his lips finally,finallyslid into place against hers, she lifted her head to meet him.
Shocks of pleasure sparked through Frey’s body and soul, and another rumbling purr reverberated from his chest. Her taste flooded his mouth, sweet and rich, and he had to delve deeper, had to havemore.
He heard her sharp inhale, and then her arms were around his middle.
It was all he needed.
Gathering her up in his arms, Frey held his mate tight.
Although it was him surrounding her, Anna enveloped him, subsuming him in everything she was. Her scent invaded his senses, and his mind blanked at the warmth of her. Her sweater and hair and skin were all so painfully soft under his rough hands, but he couldn’t stop filling them with her. Every delicious slide of their mouths brought a little more of her taste to his tongue until finally he couldn’t wait any longer.
Teasing her lips with his tongue, she opened for him on a sigh. He swept inside, exploring, conquering everything he could reach and feel. Little noises echoed from the back of her throat, goading him on as he chased down the sounds, determined to hear them again and hoard them. The little suckle of her lips and nips of her blunt human teeth nearly had Frey spiraling into a frenzy of need.
In a little show of bravery, her wicked tongue flicked against his long upper fang.
His cock throbbed behind the confines of his gray pants, and his wings itched to curl around her, surround her in everything he was.
Anna lifted her chin, gasping for a breath, and Frey almost roared with outrage.
He couldn’t keep away, kissing her jaw, her neck, desperate to take as much as he could.
Her hands, once making delicious little scratches at his back beneath his unbuttoned shirt, moved to his front. Her splayed palms burned him, made his chest shudder.
Don’t go,his heart begged,don’t go yet.
He caught one last kiss, savoring how perfectly they fit together, the feel of her pressed to him everywhere.
Finally, he let her go.
At least…just a little.
Frey straightened, though he didn’t release her from his arms. Pride swelled to see her lips swollen and pink from their kisses, and the sight nearly tempted him back.
But he knew he couldn’t push too hard. So when she didn’t initiate more, Frey swept her back into the living room. He made quick work of replacing the furniture, and in no time, he’d arranged them together on the couch.
His mate watched on with a precious sort of bewilderment—but she went along with it, so Frey indulged. By the time the documentary they’d been planning to watch all week had been queued, Frey sat with his wings flung wide and Anna tucked into his side. His hand rested easily in her lap, holding both of hers in a loose grip.
The documentary played, but Frey hardly paid attention. With his mate so close and warm and accepting, he pressed kisses to her temple and hair. He drew in her scent, committing it to memory. The richness of her had deepened even further, and Frey had to hope.
Soon. Please, let it be soon.
He knew now, after finally getting a taste of her, that he wantedallof Anna. He wantedherfor his mate. And he didn’t know how much longer he could wait.
18
What the actual fuck was that?
Anna had been asking herself that for days now without coming to much of an answer other than,really nice.
