Page 49 of Shadow Master
He sucked in a breath. “Lie down and spread your legs. I want to see you. All of you.”
I was an alpha, an aggressor, but not with Hyde. With Hyde, I was happy to submit. His words sent a thrill through me, making me wetter than ever. I lay back on the furs and parted my thighs for him.
He feasted on me with his gaze, his hands still balled into fists. Still holding back.
Fucking torturer, but his gaze was like a physical caress, skimming over my skin feather-light, sparking every sense to life. My nipples tightened to hard nubs, and my back arched in response to his perusal, and when his gaze dipped to the apex of my thighs, it took everything I had not to touch myself.
I was happy to let him do whatever the fuck he wanted to me, but he needed to touch me with his fucking hands.
“Hyde, please.”
“Archer …” His voice was thick and gruff. “Say it.”
“Archer, for fuck’s sake, touch me.”
“Where do you want me to touch you, show me.”
I touched my breasts, running my fingers over my nipples and biting back a moan. God, every inch of me was sensitized.
“Where else?”
I trailed a hand down my abdomen, over my pubic bone, and slid my fingers into my wetness. This time there was no staunching my moan; my touch set me on fire, and I couldn’t stop.
I closed my eyes and raised my hips, my fingers moving to a primal rhythm.
“Yes, Justice. Oh, fuck, that’s good.” Archer sounded pained.
He was about to snap. I could feel it in the air.
I locked gazes with him. “Your turn. Touch yourself. Do it.”
He pushed off the furs to reveal his arousal. His hand closed around the base, and then he began to pump.
Tingles raced across my skin, aiming for the juncture of my thighs. The throb picked up pace, matching his rhythm. Oh, fuck, I was going to come, and he hadn’t even touched me yet.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he ordered. And then he was sliding over me, between my thighs, and his mouth was on mine in a savage kiss that had me rocking desperately against the length of his arousal. He broke the kiss to concentrate on my breasts. His tongue laved my nipples before he sucked one into his mouth and began to draw on it. Mewls and moans slipped from my lips as he played my body. His hand slipped between us, replacing my efforts, but he pulled back every time I got close to release.
Sobs gathered at the back of my throat.
“Archer, fucking hell.”
“On your side.” He rolled me and then positioned himself behind me.
The head of his arousal kissed my wetness.
“Hold,” he ordered, his hands on my hips, keeping me from pushing back onto him. “Wait.” He sucked on the back of my neck and then pulled my hips toward him, thrusting into me swift and hard.
My cry was guttural and thick, but then his hand was at my throat, at my jaw, turning my head so he could claim my mouth with his tongue as he fucked me.
Slow strokes. Deep, penetrating thrusts had me whimpering into his mouth until he finally broke. With a curse and a growl, he picked up the pace. My body was no longer my own, it was spiraling out of control, taken over by the zing and breath-stealing wash of sensations that precluded the final head rush. We hurtled toward it together, crashing out of our bodies, souls touching for a moment before we were tugged beneath a tsunami of release.
We lay entwined for long minutes, fingers laced, legs tangled, breath hitching as we came down together.
“Again.” His voice was a delicious growl that was a tantalizing abrasion to my senses.
“This time, I get to be in charge.”
He chuckled softly into my ear. “What do you want me to do?”
