Page 60 of Shadow Warrior
Nineteen
We staggered onto the balcony, mouths fused together in soul-mingling kisses that had me aching to get closer still, to slip under his skin and become one with him. The click of a lock engaging was followed by my back hitting the wall. I was pinned by Brady’s hips, by his mouth on the tops of my breasts and his hands tearing at my clothes. I was swelling, nipples throbbing as he freed them from the constraints of my bra.
And then his warm mouth was on them, sucking, licking, and tugging with his teeth.
“Too many clothes,” he growled.
He set me on my feet and yanked down my sweats. I kicked them off, and I was naked.
He pinned me to the wall with one hand splayed across the top of my breastbone so it bracketed my collarbones. His hungry gaze swept over me, and then he slid two fingers deep into me. A ragged groan erupted from my mouth at the invasion, but before I could acclimatize to it, he was tapping my nub with his thumb and sliding his fingers in and out until I was dripping wet.
His eyes were dark as he peeled down his joggers to free his cock. Fuck, he was huge. I’d felt it through his clothes, ridden it through fabric, but would I be able to take it?
“Brady.”
His chest rumbled. “I need to fuck.” The voice was grit and gravel. The voice was the other side of Brady.
Apprehension mingled with excitement lanced through me.
“Take it slow.” I grasped him and began to slide my hand up and down his shaft. “Just ease it in, okay?”
But Brady was taking a back seat; I could feel it in the pinch of his fingers as he gripped my thighs and the rumble of his chest as he lifted me up easily. He slid his fingers out of me and replaced them with the head of his cock. It pressed against my heat, ready to slide into my wetness.
“Brady.” I grabbed his chin, locking gazes with him. “I want you here with me. I want to do this with you.”
The darkness in his eyes bloomed with stars.
“Indigo …” Brady’s voice was hoarse, rough. “I’m here.” He groaned, his mouth finding mine in a desperate kiss. “I need.”
I tilted my hips and met his thrust. He filled me, stretching me, and he didn’t stop to let me catch my breath. He slid out and thrust again, long deep thrusts that hit my G-spot and tore guttural sounds from my throat, sounds that mingled with his grunts as we did what his ogre needed. We rutted against the wall, cold flagstone against my bare back, his balls slapping against me as he pounded into me. It was raw and primal and fucking hell, I loved it.
He leaned back while he fucked me, keeping one hand on my hips and the other at my throat as he looked down, watched us joining. I wanted to see, I wanted to know what was causing that primal look on his face. But then he was sliding out of me and pushing me to the ground.
“On your knees. I want to fuck you from behind.”
Shit, yes. I did what he asked and opened my legs, pushing my ass up to give him the angle we both needed for maximum satisfaction. He pushed into me, deeper in this position. And then he began to thrust over and over until sobs were swelling in my chest and erupting from my mouth. My hands made claws, nails scraping the flagstones as a part of me rose out of my body. I watched us from above. Brady’s powerful muscles rippled as he fucked me. I watched his buttocks tense with every thrust and my breasts jiggle as he pounded into me, and then I was rushing down, slamming into Brady’s body, into the ogre, into a new kind of sensation where my groin was a mass of sensation, where I was inside someone feeling every ridge of their sheath as I invaded it with my hardness.
Brady’s cry was mine as he came … as we came. Fuck, this was … This was something else, this was balls-tightening release. This was—
I slammed back into my body in time to tumble over the edge, in time to touch Brady’s soul as it exited my body. And then our cries filled the night as we came together.
* * *
The tower wasflagstones and mist beyond the windows. There was no bed, no carpet or rug to cradle our post-coital bodies, but none of that mattered. We lay on the ground, naked limbs entwined.
“Did you feel it?” Brady asked.
Putting it into words would be too weird, but I knew what he meant. The connection we’d forged was unmistakable.
“Yeah … I did.”
He stroked my cheek. “Mine.”
This was right, being here with Brady like this was right. “What now? What happens at the mating ceremony at your home?”
“More of this,” he said. “But after an official family feast and signing of the book. It’s an old tome that contains every name in the Stonewall family.”
I sat up slightly to peer down at him. “Does that mean I have to take your name?”
