Page 22 of A Song of Air
Corvina Rhian
Asheen of sweat coatedCorvina Rhian’s skin. Her heart beat in time to the rhythm of her hips slamming down against Clay’s. With every move of her hips, he thrust deep inside of her, sending jolts of pleasure to her clit.
Clay’s blunt nails dug into her hips, his grip tight against her as he moved her up and down against his shaft.
A soft whimper escaped Corvina’s throat when he pressed deep inside, hitting a spot that made stars dance behind her closed eyelids. She quickly opened them, not wanting to miss a single moment of staring at Clay’s face as they moved in tandem.
His golden hair clung in strips against his forehead and cheeks, bright against his tanned skin. His strikingly green eyes were half-lidded, his teeth clamping down tightly against his bottom lip. With his expression contorted in pleasure, his dimples were much more prominent on his cheeks and chin, endearing in a way that had Corvina smiling.
The smile wiped off her face as his fingers went between her legs, finding the spot where they were joined. He touched her clit and the orgasm came as a surprise. She cried out and her entire body shuddered. Her hips moved against him, faster and faster so she could chase that sensation that once upon a time had been foreign to her.
She never knew orgasms could feel like this. She never thought she could have sex like this. Where she was in complete control. Where she was on top, taking and receiving pleasure as she desired, instead of someone else finding pleasure within her and leaving her hurting and in tears.
Her magic sprung out with the force of her ongoing orgasm. It lashed out like whips, water wrapping around Clay’s wrists and bringing them slamming down against the top of the bed. She didn’t care that she was wetting the sheets or that the cold water was in perfect contrast to their fevered bodies.
This was about control and her taking it back.
“Oh, fuck.” Clay arched up as the tendrils of liquid cut around his wrists. Inside, she felt him grow bigger and he throbbed, every pulse building an ache. She knew it was on account of his own magic. Blood magic that he used to rip fulfillment from them both.
Just as she started coming down from her high, he blinked and brought it up again. It was there in the beating of her heart, the rasping breaths as her blood heated and traveled lower and lower right to the center of her clit. He didn’t even need to touch it because she felt the heat as if he were. It felt like there were phantom fingers against her body, throbbing with her gasps and heartbeats and cries.
“Clay...” Her voice pitched.
“Yes, mate,” he hissed. His magic pushed her body to the edge, left her dangling over it. And the smirk on his lips let her know he meant to keep her there, to tease and wring the desire out slowly, drop after torturous drop.
Two could play at that game.
Her own magic crept out, a cold whip of water wrapping around the base of his cock. As he slammed up, the water against her clit made the both of them groan together.
“Mate...”
“Yes?” she asked innocently, even as she commanded her magic to encircle his engorged member and tug at the base of his balls. It pulled, wrapping around him as sensual as a hand. Turning, tugging, squeezing. She put different amounts of pressure against him, teasing him the same way he was teasing her, driving him close to his own release just before pulling away completely.
“You’re...” He snapped his hips up. “...killing me...”
She smiled, feeling suddenly wanton. There was something freeing about being on top, about driving a man like Clay Valentino completely mad with want. She never knew it could be like this. That she could feel... powerful.
It’d been days since she’d accepted him as her mate. Days they’d spent exploring one another. Days in which she relearned her body and herself and what she liked when it came to moments like this. There were some things of course she felt she wasn’t brave enough to try yet, if she could ever. Things that she knew would trigger her, like hands on her neck, like pressing her face down into the sheets... Maybe one day she would get over the trauma and wounds of her past. The ones that Tobias, her deceased bastard of a husband, had inflicted. But for now, she enjoyed this.
Riding Clay. Snapping her hips against his. Feeling him inside, pulsing and hot, and the overheated sensation just beneath her skin.
“It’s time to come, mate.”
That was the only warning Clay gave her before multiple orgasms crashed over her. One after the other, without even being touched. He consumed her whole, and she squeezed him with a cry, her own magic tightening until he pulsed inside her and cried his own release to the ceiling.
Once the sensation ebbed, she sprawled across his chest. Her curtain of golden-brown hair splayed across his body. Her magic swept away, seeping into the mattress beneath them. For a moment, Clay lay there breathless before his hands reached up and pushed her hair away, cupping her cheek with his palm.
The smile on his face was a radiant thing, like staring directly into the heat of the sun. It warmed her, threatened to blind her. It was always like that, his smile. It felt open and vulnerable, like an echo of what she felt in her own soul whenever she was with him.
