CHAPTER 63 Torj
CHAPTER 63
Torj
‘The line between the afflicted and the afflicter becomes blurred, raising profound questions about the nature of magical responsibility and culpability’
– Magical Transference
T ORJ CRUSHED HIS body to hers, his mouth to hers. The kiss was searing and brutal, the culmination of months of denial. Years .
She tasted just as he remembered, just as he’d dreamed of every night. He traced her lips with his and moaned as she opened for him, allowing his tongue to sweep inside and brush against hers.
The noise that escaped her had his knees buckling, and as her body melded to his, he savoured every point of contact, every curve pressed against him, every burst of connection between them. He was drunk on her, and she was somehow in his blood, making him feverish, sending rushes of lightning coursing through him, the heat of her sending him into some kind of madness.
She kissed him back with matched ferocity, as though everything he felt, she felt as well.
Longing like he’d never known swept through him, and he cupped the back of her head, holding her in place as he claimed her mouth again with another deep, frenzied kiss. Her mouth moved with his, her tongue matching his stroke for stroke, her fingers raking down his chest as though she meant to tear his shirt open. It was enough to drive him completely and utterly wild. Gods, he wanted her – but first...first he wanted her falling apart at the seams for him.
He wanted to be the first man who undid her.
The only man.
He trailed his hands from the back of her neck down her body, tracing her curves ever so lightly, teasing her so she was arching into his touch. And then he spun her around, so that her back was pressed against his chest.
‘Arms up around my neck, Embers.’ The words came out as a rough demand, but he held his leash of control tightly as Wren obeyed, her arms shifting up around him.
He kissed the sensitive spot on her neck, and she pressed her backside against his rock-hard length, causing him to hiss through his teeth. Gods, she could make him come in his leathers just from that.
Gritting his teeth, he focused on her writhing body. It was entirely too clothed. His hands went to the laces at the front of her bodice. He’d been dying to cup her breasts and he was granted that wish as they spilled from the fabric. He groaned appreciatively as his hands closed over their soft fullness, her nipples hardening into his callused palms.
‘Furies save me,’ he muttered. ‘You feel incredible.’
‘Don’t stop,’ she gasped, bucking against him as he rolled a nipple beneath his thumb.
‘The gods themselves couldn’t hold me back now, Embers...’ He squeezed her breast in one hand while the other bunched up the fabric of her skirts. ‘I have dreamed about this for so long,’ he told her, trying to steady his breathing as his hand grazed the soft skin of her bare thigh.
‘So have I...’ she panted, as his hand climbed higher still.
‘What did you dream of?’ he whispered, pinching her nipple again, eliciting a cry of rapture from her.
‘Of you,’ she managed. ‘I dreamed of you, of your hands on me, of your mouth...and your cock...Seeing you touch yourself that day...I—’
She moaned as Torj dragged his finger through the wetness at her centre.
It was exactly how he’d imagined. Soft and slick, perfect.
He drew a featherlight line through her arousal and her nails dug into the back of his neck as she bowed off him. His cock was about to burst through his leathers, but he ignored the insistent pulse of it. This was about Wren, about worshiping her so thoroughly his name would be on her tongue for days to come. For ever, if he had his way.
He caught a glimpse of them in the mirror, the sight making him groan. There was something so filthy about having her like this, skirts bunched around her thighs, her bodice undone, breasts bare.
‘Look at you,’ he said, directing her stare to her flushed reflection. ‘Gods, you’re beautiful.’
‘Torj...’ she pleaded, her cheeks tipped pink at the sight of them together.
Slowly, torturously, he began to circle her clit in earnest, and she rocked against him, demanding more. He built pressure and speed as though he had all the time in the world, revelling in every cry that escaped her at his touch.
Wren spread her legs wide, not seeming to care that she was completely exposed, that he could see the sheen of her arousal in the mirror, or that his gaze flitted all over her body as she moved with him.
Torj took her to the edge, and then eased a finger inside her.
She was as tight and wet as he’d imagined, clenching around the single digit. The thought of sliding his cock into her had him groaning into the crook of her neck, where he bit down on the soft flesh there, just as he added a second finger.
Wren moaned, and he lifted his other hand from her breast to cover her mouth, muffling her sounds.
‘That’s it, Embers...’ he coaxed her, moving his fingers rhythmically in and out of her, rubbing her clit with the heel of his hand as he did. ‘Take what you need.’
She ground back against him.
‘Not that,’ he said, a chuckle on his lips.
Wren made a stifled noise of protest.
‘Not yet,’ he clarified, driving his fingers into her again, feeling her bite into his palm to keep from screaming. ‘You don’t get my cock yet, Embers. Because when I fuck you...We’re going to need all. Damn. Night.’