Page 58 of Reign of Light
“Patience, Lennox,” he says, and I can tell he’s enjoying feeling me want him. But I need him. After that kiss on the beach, after the confessions of regret, after the promise of tearing me out of my ballgowns, I need him to touch me, more than the way he’s teasing me now.
I take his face in my hands and pull it toward me, needing him closer, his lips on mine, but it’s as if he anticipated my movements. His hips still hold me off the ground as his hands wrap around my forearms, his strength overpowering me until my arms are pinned on either side of my head.
“Weston, kiss me,” I pant, chest heaving as I try to fight against him, but I’m no match for his size and strength, not when he has me half naked and dripping with desire.
“You don’t get to make demands, princess. This is my prize, not yours.”
Anger sparks in my veins. “I swear to the gods, if you keep calling me that,” I grind out, squeezing my eyes shut.
“You’ll do what?” he growls, his body still and dominating as he towers over me.
“I don’t know,” I breathe, my mind completely blank of any threats I could impose on him in this moment when all I want is for him to be inside me, no matter what he calls me.
Pulling my wrists from the wall, he leans back slightly and lowers my hands to my breasts. My breath hitches when his fingers move with mine, pinching both my nipples before pressing my palms down firmly over the aching curves.
“I want you to play with yourself. Touch them like it is me.”
I moan and nod quickly, even though I know he can’t see me. I catch my bottom lip between my teeth, biting firmly as I feel his hands move lower. The throbbing in my core intensifies, all but distracting me from where he tugs at the waistband of my pants enough so he can slide his hand inside, leaving nothing between us.
His chest rumbles loudly as his fingers slide over me, and I suck in a quick breath. His forehead presses into mine as his fingers continue to stroke through my excitement. “You’re so wet for me, Lennox. Have you been wanting me to fuck you tonight as much as I’ve been wanting to?”
“Yes,” I gasp, and tilt my head again, trying to find him in the darkness as my hands still knead at my chest in the same way he likes to. He dodges me once again. “I always want you.”
“I promise, I want you more.”
“Weston,” I say, my voice coming out as a low whine. “Please kiss me.”
His parted lips hover over mine as I pant into them, our breaths mingling together as he still denies me what I’m begging him for. My core pulses, clenching around the emptiness as his fingers spread me apart, the tips playing with my entrance.
“There’s no need to beg, my queen.”
I cry out as his mouth crushes mine, his tongue diving deep at the same time as his fingers push inside me. White hot fire licks along my spine, the sensation overwhelming as pressure builds from my toes. Ican’t focus on anything but the feel of him consuming me from the inside out. His tongue strokes deep, the rhythm matching the thick push and pull of his fingers.
“Oh, gods,” I scream, breaking away from his kiss, my body and emotions unable to handle the soaring pressure and pleasure ripping through me. His teeth snag on my lower lip, pulling it into his mouth just as his thumb finds the spot at the apex of my thighs, rolling languid circles over it, matching the pace of his fingers.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, “and you drive me fucking wild when you scream for me.”
“Weston,” I cry, begging him to bring me over the edge, for release.
His fingers slide out of me, and the empty feeling so close to release makes me call out in frustration.
“Ugh! No!” I groan, releasing my breasts so I can reach out to touch him, to pull him back in and finish what he started.
A soft chuckle meets my ears before his hands once again wrap around my wrists and push my arms against the wall. The brush of his breath on my ear makes me want to combust.
“I said don’t move.”
“Why did you stop?” I say, my voice wavering with emotion as my body still begs to be filled. His hands are back at my waistband, wrapping around the edge before they slide my pants down over my ass, pulling them farther down my thighs until I’m bared to him.
“Because this is my prize, and as much as I love you fucking my fingers, I said I wanted my cock buried inside you, not my hand.”
I barely notice him tugging at the laces of his pants and pulling himself free before he’s notching the tip of his cock at my entrance. With a flex of his hips, he’s thrusting inside me, the wet heat of my core taking him to the hilt in one swift movement.
“Fuck!” I scream loudly as my head falls back farther, my back arching as I press my hips farther onto him, begging him silently to go deeper. My body is already sensitive and wound up from hishands before, but the narrow angle of my thighs from the tension of my pants makes it so I can feel every inch of his rigid cock with each movement. He rolls his hips, and all I can do is squeeze my eyes shut even tighter before he pulls out, thrusting firmly back into me again. My legs quake as I tighten them around his waist, pulling him in and begging for more.
“I need to touch you,” I say, the words more of a plea than anything else.
He grabs my wrists, pulling them away from the wall and flattening my palms against his chest. His rhythmic thrusts still drive me higher, and I need to ground myself in him. I grip his muscles; my nails scrape across his nipples, down every ripple of his abdomen. His stomach clenches with every thrust, and I dig my fingers into his skin, holding onto him like my life depends on it.
