Page 74 of The Curse of Golden Blood
"Say it. You have to say it. Tell me to stop." He inhaled, his body trembling. "Or I'm going to tear those little pants right off you, and I'm going to fuck you until you can't remember anything. Anyone. But my name."
My heart raced at his words. The thrill of it all, the pure desire, the sinfulness.
There was no way in any realm I was telling him to stop. Even if everything burned to ashes tomorrow, this was worth it. "Don't. Stop."
It was like a switch had been flipped. Instantly, he gave a guttural sound that was more feral beast than man.
I never knew a sound could be so damned erotic. He released my neck and gripped my hips, shifting his weight on top of me, his hard cock rubbing against me.
Even through the fabric of his breeches and my linen pants, I could feel how big and thick he was. Excitement and fearbattled within me. Could I take him? Would he fit? I wanted it, desperately.
To hell with the fears. To hell with the consequences. This is what I want. And I was determined to make sure there wouldn’t be a single fucking obstacle left to stand in the way of me taking it. I lifted my hips, pressing against him, signaling to him what I needed him to do.
Pulling back slightly, he looked into my eyes. There was so much raw need and hunger written across his face. He reached between us, cupping me, his thumb stroking over my aching core. I gasped, my hips bucking against him.
With a swift motion, he hooked his fingers into the waistband, yanked hard, and the stitching gave way with a sharp tear. The fabric split down the seam, baring my skin to the cold air. The thrill of it sent shivers up my spine and I gasped, leaning into him, wanting more.
His head lowered, rain-slick hair brushing my skin, and his mouth found a slow path down. He kissed every exposed inch of my neck, collarbones, chest, pausing to lick and suck each of my nipples, marking them with tiny red welts, drawing gasps and whimpers from me.
My hands plunged into his wet hair, tugging and tangling. The more I tugged, the harder he sucked, until my hips were lifting, desperate for him to go further. My core burned, unbearably hot.
Slowly, Zydar worked his way lower, trailing his mouth down my belly. He used the tip of his tongue to trace patterns across the smooth curves.
My breath caught as he neared the apex of my thighs.
My gaze darted down, suddenly conscious of the pale scars striping my thigh, and the bruises. Bodies weren't made of pristine perfection, mine even less so. Especially a fighter's body. I knew that, and yet, the thought of him looking andseeing it, made me squirm. I kept my eyes on him, fearful, yet hopeful of how he would react when he saw them.
As if he sensed my hesitation, he gently kissed the first raised mark, his eyes coming up to meet mine. He leaned down and lavished each one with attention until a pool of arousal began to form between my legs.
"So beautiful."
I flushed all over, my cheeks blooming bright. I took a deep, ragged breath. No one had ever called me beautiful except for my sister or friends. And something told me, they hadn't meant it like this.
A mischievous grin spread across his face. He bent his head and resumed tracing the path he'd left off. Slowly, agonizingly, his mouth moved closer and closer to where I really wanted him.
Zydar cupped his hands under my ass, effortlessly lifting my hips to his face. His breath was hot against my damp core. He looked at me once more, his red eyes filled with wicked promise.
Holy stars. Was he really going to...?
Before I could think, his mouth was on me, devouring me like a starving man. My hips jerked violently, but his powerful arms held me in place, pinned beneath his tongue.
He swirled and licked and sucked, setting me on fire from the inside out. I bucked against my will. It was glorious. As he slid his tongue up inside me, I moaned.
My cries seemed to fuel his need for more and he doubled his efforts. The slick wet, sucking sounds he was making were new to me. I cried out once more, pawing at his shoulders, willing him to give me a break, even as I panted for more. I saw him look up for a moment and smirk and I knew I was gone. He continued his sweet torture, sending sparks of pleasure rocketing up and down my body.
I felt his tongue slide back out, circling and teasing my sensitive nub before dipping down, slipping back inside me, curling and retreating back out. All while his red eyes stayed locked on my face, hungrily drinking in every single sound, every shudder and whimper I gave him.
Gods, his tongue felt incredible, and all I could do was cry out and dig my fingers into the wet stone as he mercilessly brought me closer and closer to the edge.
It didn't take long before the world around me completely dissolved, swallowed up by the massive wave of pleasure that swept through me, eclipsing everything. I cried out his name, my whole body quivering beneath his tongue.
I was beyond words. Beyond thought. For the briefest moment, my entire universe was centered around the fae lord between my thighs, who was far too good at that. Far, far too good.
Finally, his mouth withdrew, and he lowered me back down to the ground. Before I'd even had a chance to catch my breath, he was back up, hovering over me. He leaned down, his lips claiming mine in another searing kiss.
The taste of me was heavy and rich on his tongue. It should have been repulsive, but instead, it was intoxicating. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, rubbing my hips against him, begging for more.
He bit my lower lip, tugging it between his teeth. I could taste the coppery hint of blood on my tongue. He seemed to relish it. "Gods above, I want to taste every inch of you," he growled against my mouth.
