Page 56 of Splintered Shadow
She scrambled to the bed; the red ribbon pulled taut as he crawled in after her.
His blue eyes burned, catching the dim light in the room, and shining.
She spread her legs, opening herself to him.
His hands gripped her knees, holding her open. He stared at her pussy intently, like he was studying for a test. A groan rumbled in his chest. “You are lovely.”
“Not weird?”
“Do you find me weird?”
Sarah was tempted to make a joke or say he was a little weird but decided against it. They vowed to be honest with one another. “No,” she said. “You’re different than I expected, but I like it. I like you.”
He murmured some reply, too low to hear. His fingers brushed against the curls between her thighs.
“And I find you intriguing. What is this?” His thumb stroked her clit.
Her hips jolted off the bed. “My clit,” she cried.
“Is it pleasurable?”
“Very, just sensitive. Touch it softly.”
Another murmured response. This time, his fingers stroked her folds, circling her clit. She moaned at the sensation. Pleasure coiled in her, winding tight and not letting go.
He lowered his head, licking her sensitive flesh. He paid particular interest to her clit, as if fascinated by the noises his touch drew from her. The man was a wizard with his tongue, dipping into her core, and sucking on her clit.
He watched her, his cloudy front eyes blank, but the blue ones tracking her every response.
She grabbed the hand he had placed on her knee, teasing at the ribbon tying them together. Her free hand went to his hair, twisting and tugging.
It was too much, too intense, and too fast. Her climax grew and grew, filling her, driving out her breath. She cried out, jerking her hips away to break contact.
He followed, settling between her thighs. “Are you ready for me?”
Yes. She wanted him in her. Now. “I want to try. Just one?”
“One at a time.” He lined himself up and pushed in.
Her core burned as he stretched her, filling her inch by delicious inch. It had been so long since anything felt pleasurable. She knew she’d come quickly.
And often.
He planted a hand next to her shoulder, the ribbon pulling her arm at an awkward angle. She wrapped her legs around his waist. His weight went forward, adding extra force as his hips drove forward.
It was too good.
“Yes, Vekele, yes. Like that.”
Her hips lifted, letting him in deeper still. Their bodies moved, rising and falling in uncoordinated movement. It was awkward but felt too good to stop.
Then perfection. They moved together, push, and pull working in harmony, skin on skin meeting with delicious friction. He was gorgeous, his eyes always on her, watching. Nothing went unnoticed. Every touch was important. Every moan to be savored. She felt cherished. Not a burden or duty given to him by the king but wanted. Desired.
Sensation built inside her, swelling to the point it would consume her. She clutched at his back, digging her fingernails in.
His eyes went dark, inky dark shadows gathering. Need exploded in her, responding to the urgency in his touch. Every nerve ending sang. It was too much and not enough. Ecstasy broke over her as she called his name.
“My mate,” he growled, teeth clenched. His entire body tensed as he sighed and emptied himself inside her.
