Chapter 34 #3
I pull back just enough to breathe and grab his hand, tugging him toward the tent. We stumble through the opening together, the silk falling closed behind us like we’ve stepped out of the world entirely. Inside, lanterns have lit themselves, casting everything in warm, flickering gold.
I turn to face him, then reach for the tie of his robe. My fingers fumble with the knot, and he covers my hands with his.
“Eager,” he whispers, the amusement in his voice underscored with heat.
“Problem?”
“Not even a little one.”
He lets go, and I finally untie his robe, then push the burgundy silk off his shoulders. It pools at his feet, leaving him naked before me.
I gasp, my eyes taking in the beauty that is this man, this god, this warrior with the kind of body that shouldn’t exist outside of fantasy.
“Your turn,” he says, his voice low and demanding.
I reach for the fastenings of my dress, but he pulls my hands away, working the clasps himself until the fabric loosens and slides down my body in a whisper of silk, leaving me as naked as he is.
His gaze rakes down my body and back up, like a slow, physical caress.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
Then his hands are on me—one cupping my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple until it peaks, the other sliding around to the small of my back and pulling me flush against him. He’s already hard, and the feel of him against my bare skin makes me warm and tingly and desperately wet.
“Please,” I murmur, but he only shakes his head, then teases me with another kiss, then another after that.
But this time, when his tongue sweeps into my mouth, I’m ready for it.
I kiss him back just as fiercely, my hands exploring the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abdomen, then lower and lower.
When my fingers wrap around his cock, he breaks the kiss with a sharp, needy inhale that makes my breasts ache and my core throb with desire.
“Cora,” he says, and it sounds like a warning.
“What?” I stroke him slowly, watching something predatory build in his eyes.
“You are playing with fire, my queen.” He cups my cheek, his thumb teasing my lips. “Now burn with me.”
I almost say no. Almost back away with a lame apology. Because while sex with Chase was revelatory, I have a feeling Adric plays on a different plane.
I stay silent.
As if he’s seen the decision on my face, he eases me back, one step and then another until my legs hit the edge of the cushions. I sit down hard, and he follows me down, caging me in with his arms.
“My turn,” he says, and there’s a dark promise in those two words.
He kisses down my throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and I arch up into him. His mouth finds my breast, and when he sucks my nipple, I make a sound that’s embarrassingly desperate. He lavishes attention on one breast, then the other, his hand sliding down my stomach, between my thighs.
I whimper when his fingers slip inside me, and he makes a satisfied sound against my skin.
“I like you wet for me,” he whispers. “Needing me. Craving me.” His lips brush over the curve of my ear.
“How many times have you touched yourself thinking of me? How many times have you dreamt of me in your bed? A dozen? A thousand?”
“Don’t be smug,” I manage, but my voice breaks when he teases my clit in a way that sends sparking shivers coursing through me.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs as he thrusts two fingers inside me. “Tell me it’s so.”
“Yes,” I whimper as I buck against his hand.
And it’s true. It just isn’t the entire truth.
For a moment, I let myself think of Chase—then Adric adds another finger, curling them in a way that makes stars burst behind my eyelids as all other thought evaporates.
I’m nothing now. Nothing but passion and need, and I beg for him to take me over—to finish this—to never stop, to take me all the way, then push me over the cliff.
“That’s it,” he says against my breast. “Let me feel you. Now, Cora. Come for me, my love.”
As if he’s commanded my body, the orgasm hits me like lightning, white-hot and all-consuming. I cry out, my hands fisting in his hair, riding sweet torture until I can’t take the torment, and I clamp my legs together, holding his fingers in place as I draw up my knees and curl against him.
“That was incredible,” I whisper when I can breathe again.
“I’m very glad to hear it.” He withdraws his hand slowly, deliberately, and brings his fingers to his mouth. My brain short-circuits watching him taste me as his eyes darken with pure, decadant want.
“Please,” I say, and I don’t care how desperate it sounds.
“Please, what?” His voice is rough now, strained. “Tell me where you need me, Cora.”
“Inside me.” My voice is a whimper. “Now.”
“Whatever the lady wants.” And then he’s above me, one hand holding his weight as the other slides between us, teasing my core and making me even wetter until the head of his cock presses against my entrance. He holds still, and I can see the raw need on his face. “Look at me.”
I meet his eyes.
“Say it again,” he demands.
“I need you inside me,” I whisper. “Please.”
Something breaks apart in him, and I can tell the effort it takes for him to go slow—so slow that I feel every inch as he fills me. As we both go still. The sensation is overwhelming, the feel of him inside me making my breath catch.
“Move,” I beg, wrapping my legs around his hips.