Page 51 of Hellish Fae
They’re smart.
Ryke’s smile stays in place, but the shine in his eyes dims a little with clear disappointment at my willingness to give up.
I’m not giving up.
Not even close.
My bare feet slam over the mat with flashing speed, and when I leap into his arms, he catches me like the benevolent gentleman that he is. His big palm splays wide across my ass as my legs wrap around his lean hips. He squeezes hard against my silk panties.
Did I say gentleman?
Those watchful hooded eyes dip to my lips.
A single second rushes by.
I brush my mouth against his so slowly, I can taste the iron stinging between our tongues. I slide my tongue over his anyway. I delve into the pain of his kiss, and it’s the most addicting feeling of stabbing agony and caressing pleasure.
My palms trail down the jagged lines etching his broad shoulders. Scorching heat licks at my fingertips, but I take my time sliding lower and lower down his bulging bicep.
Every part of him is deliciously big, and it really is a shame no one’s touched him like this. The way his body deserves to be touched. Licked. Fucked.
My palm grazes over his calloused knuckles, and for an instant, my fingers thread with his.
Until I jerk the weapon from his hand and thrust it with all my might between his ribs and arm as if I gutted him right here. Right now.
He continues to kiss me hard like he doesn’t give one single fuck that I just mock-spilled his guts out all over his practice room floor.
He barely puts space between us as his tongue flicks over my lower lip before he bites there slowly.
“If this is your way of distracting me, you’re welcome keep going nice and slow and really slaughter me limb from limb, baby,” he whispers in that rumbling tone like hot sex and warm honey while squeezing my ass with both hands.
Every sensual move he makes is laced with roughness. He’s too powerful to be anything but violent. Even as he kisses me.
My thighs clench around him, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. He keeps kissing me, and my lips are swollen and sore, but I cling to his shoulders harder and let him lose himself in me as much as I’m losing myself in him.
“I’m hurting you,” he rasps, kissing me slower and slower.
“Not much,” I moan.
His fingers dig into my ass once more before his hold on me loosens, and ever so slowly, almost remorsefully, he slides my body down his.
My feet delicately touch the soft padding of the mat, but I’m still melded against him, holding on to him.
He’s still kissing me. Slower and slower. And slower.
Until our lips no longer touch.
And for once, he’s out of breath because of my advances.
“Been a long time since your dick’s been hard, huh, Ryke?” Zaviar asks with a shit-eating smirk.
Ryke pulls back from me, and my knees feel even weaker than when we were battling.
“Not really. When’s the last time your mom came for a visit, Zav?” Ryke asks with a totally serious expression that deepens Zaviar’s scowl more than I’ve ever seen before.
I guess even angels—demons?—demonic angels have a wicked streak.
My fingers brush over my swollen lips, and for a few minutes, I listen to the three men pass shitty retorts back and forth until I’m too tired to stand it any longer.
