Page 240 of Bitten By the Fae
And his mouth took mine.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss but a claim, his tongue dominating mine. But I held my own, refusing to bow completely, meeting him as a match, and challenging him at every turn.
If he wanted to own me, he’d have to win me.
And I wouldn’t bow easily.
Not tonight.
Not while surrounded by power that fueled the energy source inside me.
This wasmydomain, not his. And queens did not kneel unless they wanted to.
He smiled against my mouth, his amusement palpable. “Oh, Aflora, you just made this that much better.” His fingers dug into my hips as he captured my lips once more, his kiss savage and violent in the best way.
A warrior.
Mywarrior.
There were moments when I hated him, but he more than made up for it during the times when I adored him.
Times like now.
He’d brought me to this place, wooed me unintentionally with the familiarity of the earth, and now I intended to let him claim his reward.
My sweater disappeared again, followed by his own. I hissed as his bare chest met mine, my bra seeming to have vanished beneath his touch. He cupped my cheek, his tongue enchanting mine into a sensual duel I never wanted to end. I ran my palms over his bare back, loving the way his muscles flexed and moved.
He was all strength and man.
Experienced and knowing.
Velvety smooth and hard as a rock.
“Zeph,” I moaned, arching into him as he unbuttoned my jeans. My zipper slid down, the sound echoing in the night, accompanied by the shuffle of fabric and boots as he fully undressed me, leaving me naked against the tree. He took a step back to admire the view, his Midnight Fae eyes allowing him to see what a human wouldn’t be able to.
It made him predatory.
Cruel.
A sleek panther in the dark.
My skin prickled with goose bumps, my thighs quaking with need, my core slicking in warm welcome.
I loved the vulnerability that came with being naked while he still wore his jeans and boots. I adored the sensations of earth magic humming across my exposed skin. And I craved the masculine scent of arousal tickling my nostrils.
“I can smell you,” I whispered, falling back against the tree, my hands roaming my own curves. “You want me.”
“I do,” he admitted, yet remained still, watching me embrace my element and touch myself in kind.
Prolonging the moment made me needy, had my knees threatening to bend, but I used the earth to keep myself upright, to be the queen I was born to be.
For him.
For myself.
“Zeph,” I said, my voice low and sultry.
“Aflora,” he returned softly, his thumb flicking open the button on his jeans.
