Page 90 of Bound
She ripples and then clamps around me, squeezing my length until my eyes roll back and I have to break the kiss or risk hurting her for the pleasure it causes.
She glows in my arms, her skin a soft milky white like the Hunter’s moon and her hair like sunlight. Every ragged cry from her lips is my name as she climaxes in sweet, glorious waves.
It’s the most beautiful fucking thing I have ever witnessed in my life.
I roll us, pressing her into the mattress as my hips glide, moving me through her silken but tighter folds. Sweat slides down my spine, along my temple. My arms shake. And still she ripples as she hooks her heels into the small of my back. Forcing me deeper.
“Gage. Please,” she groans.
For a moment, I don’t understand, not with the pressure squeezing my member.
“Let it go,” she breathes, her hands rubbing up and down my arms, soothing me.
My fire.
The hold I have on my power is instinctual away from water. In a cloth bed with a wood frame ...
Her hips move against mine, riding me still. My rhythm falters then breaks. It’s too late.
I draw up tight, heart slamming wildly as my power explodes outward from me in a tidal wave that mimics the gut-wrenching pleasure in my groin. I jet inside her, hips pressed deep into her cradle as the world fades in and out like radio silence.
But there is no heat. No scent of smoke.
Chest heaving, I open my eyes.
Amoret glows and moonlight seems to bathe her as the last tendril of flame slides under her skin. She watches me in wonder. Her hand slides down my arm. She grips my hand in hers, raising them together.
Moonlight plays from her skin to mine, the glows intermingling and ebbing as our heartbeats slow. Rich green light streaks her face and out of the corner of my eyes, my white hair is like snow in sunshine. It sparkles, each strand radiant and faceted.
Something that should not be possible. Not after so many years. Not after my forced exile.
I peer back at Amoret, uncertainty and fear vying for control of my insides. “Amoret?”
Her expression softens and a single tear leaks from the corner of her eye. “You are still Aos Sí, my love.” The endearment spreads the warmth in my stomach, dispelling the fear. The worry. “And there has never been a more beautiful Fae than the man you have become.”
