Chapter 47 #3
Stroking my cheek, he pulls from me and I’m able to suck in air, almost as greedy for that as I was for him. He catches his breath, sitting on his heels, watching me as I let my head fall back with a satisfied smile.
“Look at that swollen mouth.” He scoffs softly. “And so pleased with herself, too.” He kisses my tingling lips, slowly, deeply, and I wonder if he catches the taste of himself as his tongue swipes between them.
I’m boneless yet restless. Satisfied yet needy. Taken yet throbbing.
He knows it—either from the leap of my pulse, the moan he captures in his mouth, or the half-hearted arch my body makes into his.
“Patience, little love,” he murmurs against my lips, teasing reprimand in his tone. “You’ve taken me so well, but that doesn’t mean I’m finished with you.”
A whimpering sigh spells out my relief as I sag into the cushions. Unvented pleasure simmers beneath my skin, making it too tight, too hot, my muscles fluttery with need. “Please, Drystan.”
He groans as I say his name, and I can’t pretend it wasn’t deliberate. Straightening, he looks down at me. “Asking for it again.” He absently toys with my tits as he shakes his head. “How can I deny you?”
Tenderly, he places me on my side before him, parts my thighs, hands reverent, my splayed position profane.
With his arm beneath my head, the clear sky above reminds me that we’re in the open. I’m exposed, spread for him. Yet the sun feels good upon my skin—almost as good as he feels at my back. The breeze is another caress. And the sweet smell of jasmine blends with his scent, heady and thick.
This place is right. There’s no one else. It’s ours.
When his hand slides over my belly and down between my legs and he feels how wet I am, he chuckles, hot and dark in my ear. “Oh, Avellan. You did enjoy that, didn’t you?”
Fresh heat blooms in my cheeks, even as his finger slips along my entrance and he builds upon that simmering pleasure.
“My perfect little queen.” The arm beneath me snakes around, so he can squeeze my breast as his finger dips into me.
I clench around him, throbbing, desperate, and my body arches as much as it can in his hold, making him laugh again.
“Such a sweet little creature who loves to give and loves to take and both loves and hates to be told just how special she is.” I’m not sure if it’s meant to be reward or punishment as he adds a second finger to the first, palm rubbing my apex, pushing me toward somewhere high and holy.
My eyelids flutter. It’s all I can do to remember how to breathe, albeit staccato and frayed.
Then he pulls from me and I’m about to huff out my disappointment, more than a little petulant, when he runs his length along my slick entrance instead. “See? I told you to be patient, didn’t I?”
Whimpering, I tilt my hips, trying to rub against him harder, but he maintains only the pressure he wishes to give.
A tiny corner of my mind is still sane and surprised he’s hard again so soon.
I’ve heard stories about fae lovers—their stamina, their drive, the way they wreck humans. Turns out, they weren’t exaggerating.
“Didn’t I, Avellan? Remember to use your words—how much I love to hear your sweet voice.”
“You did,” I babble, on the edge of madness. “You told me to be patient. And I have—I have. But I need…”
He glides along me at that same pressure that’s not quite enough. “What is it you need?”
“I need you to fuck me. Please. Now. Please.”
He gives a low, ragged hum of pleasure. “You even beg perfectly. That’s all I wanted.” He pulls back, angles my thigh a touch higher and places himself at my entrance.
With infinite, insanity-inducing patience, he enters. I can’t quite breathe. I can’t keep my eyes from rolling back in my head. I can’t do anything but cling to the arm that’s under me.
Just that one thrust has me wrung out. Hovering on the edge of somewhere else. Eyes tearing with how damn close I am.
I’m entirely at his mercy. Entirely filled by him. Entirely his to do with as he wishes.
And yet I still taste the salt of his come on my tongue. I still feel the twitch of the muscles—in his arm this time, not his thighs. I have some small power over him.
“So warm, so wet. How am I supposed to be gentle with you?” His voice is no longer teasing but raw.
His chest heaves against my back as though he’s wrestling himself from the brink.
I feel as he masters himself, and he goes on more softly, a low reverence to it: “You take me like you were made for me.”
Only then does he hook my leg over his and return his fingers to my clit.
I shudder, whimper. Too full to manage the pressure his assured touch drives in me. Close to shattering.
Controlled once more, he doesn’t thrust, just stays locked in me as the pads of his fingers work me.
“I want to feel you come on my cock, Avellan. Every second of it. Every inch, every clench of that pretty little cunt.” There’s a gravelly edge to his voice that speaks of brutal determination and on that final word, he pushes harder, deeper into me, seizing what little breath I have. “I will not miss a moment of it.”
I’m close. Gods. I’m so close to giving him exactly what he wants.
Tears spill from my eyes. Desperation. Ruination. Terrible, glorious want as my body winds tighter and tighter and—
I cry out. Wordless. Senseless. Lost.