Page 87 of Bound
I can only give a hard swallow and try to nod.
A pulse throbs in my core. It seems to thrum to the beat of my heart. Or maybe it is his.
His rough hands smooth over me, wet now from the water. He kneads my hips, my sides. My shoulders. My eyes flutter and my core ripples and weeps around him. Every touch borders on reverent. On sweet. I arch and wish I could touch him. Could caress him and make him feel like I do.
He grips my hips and slowly, oh so slowly, withdraws.
The burn turns to something different as my core tries to hold him inside. Where I want him. His length rubs over everything, so tight. So full. The throb evolves into an ache, one that I can now recognize for what it is. Desire. He pulls half out and rolls back in. The glide leaves my head hanging.
This. This is what I wanted. What I need.
It’s such a surety that I go boneless. I sag in his arms, languid. At peace.
“Amoret?” Gage’s voice is alarmed as he tenses.
“If you stop, I’ll torch you with your own fire,” I whisper as harsh as I can manage past the pleasure filling me.
His fingers flex into my skin. Something damp trails over my side and he presses another kiss to my shoulder as his wet hair tickles my skin. His lips find the nape of my neck. My spine. Then he moves in earnest.
The pace he sets is far from what I know his body can do, what that muscle is capable of. But every smooth flex of his hips seats his member inside me. And he caresses all of my sheath in a slick tease. Top, bottom, sides. Deep inside my core until he bumps the very end of me.
My breathing quickens as my sheath clenches again, rippling with the need he creates. I grip his arm, to warn him.
“Fuck, Amoret. Already?” he gasps, and the sound of wet flesh hitting wet flesh echoes in the small space.
I whimper in answer as the pleasure arcs through my mind in glorious waves.
“Fuck.” He tightens his hold on my stomach and pistons against my rear, his pace erratic, hard. It takes my pleasure and shoots it through with lightning that zaps and zings in my belly, toes, chest. Prolonging the release.
I scream his name and rock back on him, meeting his thrusts again and again.
He gives a strangled shout and green fire rolls through the shower, blinding in light, as heat sears my core.
The pleasure sparks again, taking his power and feeding it back through me, over me. I press it into the wall and meet electricity. There is nowhere for the magick to go. Nowhere but back into him.
My fingers tighten into his arm and I force his magick through his flesh and into the man underneath.
Gage slams his hips into my rear as he trembles. “Shit, Amoret.”
Depleted save for the residual power still coursing through me, I sag and only his arm keeps me upright.
I reach limply and pat him on one wet thigh as my vision remains foggy. “See? You didn’t hurt me?”
He leans his forehead against my back, and we both shake. It takes time for his trembling to ease, but I don’t mind. He’s warm and his presence is soothing. Right.
In fact, my eyelids are so heavy, it is hard to do much more than yawn as the fatigue of the last few days seeps into every inch of me. As the pleasure blankets me in its soft glow. My jaw cracks on a wide yawn.
He slips from my body and turns me to look at him. He is soaked. We both are. But in that moment, I don’t know if I could love him more. I stroke his cheek, and he presses a kiss into my palm. It makes me smile, but another yawn soon whisks the motion away.
His smile is rueful. With gentle motions, he rinses us both, lifts me against his wet chest, and takes me to the bed.
I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow.
