Page 162 of Promise of Darkness
Soft kisses brush against my temples. “Can you remember your name yet?” he teases.
I lift my head off his chest, drowning in those green eyes. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but there’s a little piece of me that considers myself lucky to learn how good your tongue is for the first time, again and again and again.”
“Oh, we’re not done yet, Princess.”
He captures my mouth in another slow, drugging kiss, but I’ve got other ideas.
“My turn,” I whisper, shoving him back against the wall.
He allows me to pin him there. “Do your worst.”
Water skates down his body, caressing each muscle. I lick my way down his throat, and Thiago makes a rough sound that ignites me. It’s like he’s helpless beneath my touch. This vicious, dark prince who could destroy the world if he desired it melts in my hands.
My hand glides down his abdomen, and then it’s curling around his cock.
Thiago hisses as I flex my grip, twisting and working him with a tight fist. A bead of cum dwells on the tip of him, and I glide my thumb over it, smearing it across him.
“I’ve waited months for this,” he breathes, staring into my eyes. Grabbing my wrists, he lifts me back against the wall of the pool. “Months.I need to be inside you.”
It’s not a question.
And if it was, I answered that long ago.
“You’re mine. Say it.”
I shake my head, but then he’s biting my throat, rocking against me. The slick threat of his erection grinds against my clitoris, both a taunt and a demand.
“Say it,” he breathes.
I bite my lip, desperate to chase that elusive pleasure he’s offering. I can’t help myself. My mind holds no memories of him, but my body is a slick instrument he plays with familiarity. It knows him. It wants him. Bowing my head, I rest my forehead against his. “I’m yours.”
Then he’s surging forward, the tip of him breaching me.
And all I know is pleasure.
40
We lie in bed, Thiago’s fingers stroking down my spine. I’ve never felt safer than this moment in his arms. But there’s a lingering question that casts doubt over me like a cloud.
“You’re Unseelie,” I whisper, into the night.
I’ve wondered about it a million times, but he’s too perfectly formed. It’s only when his wings appear and his eyes darken that his Unseelie aspects rise to the surface, and I’ve never heard of anyone being able to do that before.
Those fingers still, and then resume their gentle caress. “Where did you hear a lie like that?”
He didn’t deny it.
I roll over in his arms. “Is it a lie?”
Shadows darken his face, and he glances down at my lips.
“If you can’t trust me with the truth, then what sort of marriage do we have?”
“It’s not you I can’t trust.”
Or not the me that exists in this moment.
Thiago sits up in bed, shadows caressing the ripple of his abdomen. Reluctance bleeds through his pores.
