Page 37 of Stolen By the Wraiths
"I was terrified," he admitted, voice breaking slightly. "Not of what they'd do to me, but that I'd never touch you again. Never get to claim you properly."
The honesty constricted around my heart, but also sent heat racing through my veins. I moved lower, using my tongue to trace the traceries across his chest while he gasped and arched beneath me.
"Well, you're touching me now," I said, letting my breath ghost across his skin. "And I'm about to claim you in ways that will make you forget every moment of separation."
I started at his throat, using my tongue to trace each silver line that pulsed beneath bronze skin. The patterns were hypersensitive—when I pressed firm licks along the pathways, his back arched off the bed and strangled sounds escaped his throat. When I barely ghosted my tongue across junction points where multiple lines converged, his entire body shuddered.
"There," I murmured against a particularly responsive cluster near his collarbone. "That's your weakness, isn't it?"
I worked my way down his torso, following every silver line, learning that the markings along his ribs made him shiver while the ones across his abs made his cock twitch. By the time I reached the patterns decorating his hipbones, he was breathing hard and leaking pre-cum.
The silver lines extended to his cock too—delicate patterns spiraling around his length, flaring brighter as his arousal increased. He was thick and long, the head flushed dark with need, and those beautiful markings made him utterly unique.
"Please," he gasped, hips lifting slightly. "I need your mouth on me."
The words sent a dark thrill through me. This powerful, dangerous male was begging for my touch, submitting to my control.
"Happily," I said, then lowered my head and took him into my mouth without warning.
He roared, a purely animal sound that vibrated through the cabin. I hollowed my cheeks and took him deeper, feeling those ridges along his length with my tongue while he fought to obey my order not to move.
The silver patterns pulsed brighter as I worked him, vibrating against my tongue in the most incredible way. When I swirled around the head and pressed into the sensitive slit, his hips jerked despite his efforts at control.
"Sorry," he gasped, but I just hummed approval around him, the vibration making him swear.
I took him deeper still, relaxing my throat while using my hand to work what I couldn't fit. The combination of textures—smooth skin, pulsing silver lines, and the ridge along his underside—created sensations I could never get enough of.
"Alix," he gasped, muscles trembling. "I'm close. So close."
I pulled back, denying him. "I'm not finished with you."
"I'm begging," he said, voice breaking. "I need to come. Need you to let me fall apart."
The raw honesty was my undoing. I took him as deep as I could, throat muscles working around him while my hand twisted around his base.
When I focused on the sensitive head, swirling my tongue around the crown while my hand pumped his length, he shattered with a guttural roar, his entire body going rigid. His release flooded my mouth, hot and thick, and I swallowed every drop while his body convulsed beneath me.
"Perfect," I murmured, laying my cheek against his chest and listening to his frantic heartbeat. "Absolutely perfect."
But as I watched him return to awareness, something shifted in his expression. The submission was fading, giving way to dominant hunger that sent anticipation clenching through my core.
"My turn," he said, his voice rough with renewed want despite his recent climax.
Before I could respond, he had me flipped onto my back, his larger frame caging me beneath him while those amber eyes burned with possession. The sudden reversal sent heat through my system—from control to surrender in heartbeats.
"You had your fun," he said, positioning himself over me. "Now I get mine."
"What are you going to do?" I asked, though my body was already preparing, wetness gathering as I squirmed beneath him.
"I'm going to worship every inch of you," he said, hands beginning to explore. "Thank you for saving my life by making you come so hard you forget your own name."
His mouth found my throat, pressing open kisses while his hands mapped territories that belonged to him. But unlike my teasing torment, his worship was patient and thorough, designed to build pleasure slowly until I was desperate.
"You taste like victory," he murmured against my collarbone, then moved lower to lavish attention on my breasts. "Like everything worth fighting for."
When he took one peak into his mouth, I gasped and arched beneath him, hands grabbing his hair while pleasure raced to my core. He spent long minutes worshipping each breast until I was writhing, desperate for more contact.
"Please," I gasped, echoing his earlier plea. "I need more."
