Page 19 of Shattered Stars
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, sliding my plain cotton briefs down my thighs. “You won’t be wearing them for long.”
When I’m bare for him, he spreads my thighs open, settling between them and inhaling deeply. “I can smell him inside you,”he whispers. “Are you all sticky with him too?” He drags his fingers through my wet folds.
I moan, wriggling against his touch. Then he slides a thick finger inside me.
“Fuck, you are,” he says. “All sticky … full of him.” He growls. “I’m going to fuck you now too, pump you full of my seed.”
I remember how obsessed Stone was about this earlier today. Is it part of the fated mate thing? This obsession with wanting to pump me full of their come. And why is that so damn hot?
I grind against his fingers as he massages the spot inside me, rubbing the heel of his hand against my clit, and squeezing my ass with his other hand. Then his fingers are creeping between my ass cheeks, stroking around my tight hole.
“How’s that, sweetheart?” he asks.
Good, strangely good. But I can’t get the words out, not with the way he is winding my body higher and higher. I manage an enthusiastic murmur and then as I come around his fingers, jolting about on the bed, he slides another finger inside me. But not my pussy this time. My backside. I cry out, stars crashing against my closed eyelids.
He growls right by my ear, “I can’t wait for us to have you together.”
Together?
I remember how intense it was when we were together, the three of us in Stone’s cabin. How they explored, kissed and touched every part of me, overwhelming my senses completely.
But the man in black means something more.
I try to imagine what that would be like as he flips me over onto my stomach angling up my hips, and thrusting inside me, his hand tight around my braid. His hips slap against my backside. Could I take two mates at once?
Do I want to?
As he fucks me hard, down deep into the mattress, tugging at my hair so my scalp stings in sharp contrast to the pleasurable sensations in my pussy, I know I do.
I want it really badly.
Later,he insists on ordering takeout, laying out menus across the bed from every restaurant in the city.
“Choose whatever you want, order as much as you like,” he growls. “We’re going to have a banquet. I didn’t treat you well enough last time you were here. And I’m making up for it now.”
“I like you cooking for me,” I admit, picking up the first menu and scanning the list.
He drags me onto his lap and nuzzles my throat. “You do?”
“Uh huh.”
“Hmmm,” he murmurs against my skin. “Not tonight though, little mate. Tonight you’re being spoiled with the finest food Los Magicos has to offer.”
I smile. Being spoiled is a strange sensation but I think I could come to enjoy it.
“But I don’t know what to choose. I’ve never tried half of these foods.”
“Then I’ll choose for you.” He picks up a handful of the pamphlets and disappears out of the bedroom. When he doesn’t return straight away, I pull one of his t-shirts over my head and go to investigate. I find him in the dining room – a room that looks as if it’s been rarely used. He’s busy setting out the table, lining up cutlery and crockery, several candles already flickering across the tabletop and an uncorked bottle of wine waiting in a cooler.
“This looks rather posh,” I tell him, watching him work from the doorway.
“I’m spoiling you,” he says simply, placing a white napkin next to a plate and then striding towards me and wrapping me in his arms.
“I think I’m underdressed. Should I go change?” I tease, not that I have anything to change into. I came in my jeans and hoodie.
“No, I like you in my shirt,” he says, his hands disappearing under the hem. I sigh, quite happy to forget about dinner altogether, but then we’re interrupted by the doorbell.
“That’ll be the food,” he tells me. “Don’t go anywhere.”
