Page 96 of Wings of Lies
“Damn it, Lucille, do you know what you do to me?” he whispered.
“Enlighten me,” I replied, equally as quiet.
His lips were centimeters away, moist and pink, ready.
Would he taste as sweet as he smelled?
Tempted, I wanted to bring his face up to meet mine. Instead, I gripped his hair tighter, loving the feel of the satin silk, torn between overwhelming temptation and confusion.
He tightened his hand in return, bringing my face lower like he wanted to bridge the gap, but moved out of the way at the last moment. “Lucille, if you do not rein in whatever this is, I am going to strip you naked…” he paused. “And fuck you, like I’ve always wanted, against this soft moss where anyone could see,” he finished, voice low and grating. His hips ground into mine to emphasize his words.
I bit my cheeks hard to keep back my moan, failing terribly. I wanted—but I couldn’t, but I wanted more.
Losing myself, I slid against the hard bulge of him, hating myself for it and for the breathy noises that escaped my mouth. It was—was, I couldn’t think or breathe. I just wanted more. The need hit me hard.
He pressed into me like he heard my thoughts, giving me the friction I desired. My purple flames flared, bringing even more sensation. It was strange and all-consuming—addicting.
“Fuck,” he rasped, flipping me over like I weighed nothing. Somehow, I still managed to grip his neck and arm, his velvet skin too addictive to let go of.
I licked my lips. Aspen gazed at my tongue, little blue flashes flickering in his eyes. The hand that held my side crept up until it touched the side of my breast, rubbing delicious circles.
Heavenly Hell.
“Are you sure you want this to be how our first time goes?” he asked, breathless.
“You want to stop?”
“Fuck no,” Aspen moaned, giving in at last, lips crashing down on mine.
My first kiss and it wasn’t gentle.
Aspen devoured me, tasting sweet and tangy. But there was also another flavor, almost as if fire had a flavor. The electrical tingles from his skin only intensified my desire. When he opened my mouth, I was lost, so utterly lost in the exquisite pleasure of the tip of his tongue.
I never wanted it to stop.
He groaned, sending a pulse of need to my core, making me wet and throb. I needed more. Our leathers were too restrictive. I wanted to feel all of him, all of his tingling skin against mine. I trailed my hand down his chest and palmed his length, needing, craving, wanting that. His rough leather scratched my palm as his hardness throbbed against me, shoving itself against his restraints. Aspen jerked back, eyes flashing.
“Lucille, are you sure? I won’t stop if we start.” I could tell he battled himself. He pressed harder into my hand but kept his lips away from mine even as he gazed at them with such heat.
A smile twisted my swollen lips. Now, it was my turn to be smug. “Why?” I said as I rubbed him over the fabric. Finding the buttons to the tops of his leathers, I released one while staring into his devouring gaze, pleased that I affected him so.
“Because…” He lowered his head. I released another button. “Whatever…” Another button. His gaze hooked onto my lips like they were his saving grace. “You are doing…” He lowered further, and I was two buttons away from unleashing him. “Is disarming me.” His tongue licked the seam of my mouth, tingles making my eyes flutter.
What would that feel like down there?
I opened my mouth, letting him slip in, to taste, to tease, to consume, and when he crushed his mouth into mine, I broke our kiss and slipped past him to his ear. “Prince Aspen rendered powerless by a naïve helpless female,” I said, licking his lobe. He shuddered and grabbed my glowing arms, pinning them above me, smothering any space between us. With his pants half undone, the heat of his tip hit the apex of my thighs.
It undid me and urged me to do the one thing I shouldn’t have. “Please,” I begged, grinding against him. I didn’t want to beg, but at the same time, I’d do anything to feel what comes after the ache.
“If,” he panted. “If you do that, there is no going back.” His forehead met mine as he restrained himself. One hand slipped away from my pinned arms, cupping my breast over my jacket.
I wrenched one of my pinned arms free, wiggling it between our pressed bodies. The rest of his buttons were more challenging to open, but I managed, desire spurring me on. Only a thin layer of his undergarments held in his large length, the fabric moist. I grazed my thumb over it and heard his strangled groan. Smiling, I replaced my thumb with my core, going off basic instinct, rubbing him in slow circles, feeling his body shake, his heartbeat, and the blood pumping under his skin.
Was that normal?
“Lucille,” he moaned, doing things to my insides. I savored the way he moaned my name and reveled in the way I controlled him so thoroughly with my touches.
His hands released me, sliding into my hair, jerking me to his lips, where he devoured me once more.
