Chapter Twenty-Three #3
“Here,” he rumbles low into my ear. “I’ll not wait.” A hand tightens on my hip pulling a soft cry from me. “And neither will you.”
He runs a hand over my stomach, trailing it down between my legs and I gasp, arching into his touch as his thumb draws tight circles over my core. With a deep, dark chuckle, he nips at my neck.
My hands fly to the bottom of his shirt, pulling the tails from his waist and I slip my fingers beneath.
All while he continues to tease, emptying my head of thought, replacing it with need.
The heat of his skin scorches my palms and the firmness of his stomach tightens the desire between my legs, turning me utterly languid.
Ruined.
I’m ruined.
To have such a powerful creature so wholly devoted to me, worshiping me as if I’m a goddess, his goddess—it leaves me dizzy with lust. Making quick work of his belt and buttoned pants, my fingers wrap around his long, erect length, earning an encouraging flex of his hips and a groan.
His hand becomes a fist in my hair, the other gripping me by the back of my neck as I continue to stroke and tease. I want his desire screaming through him as fiercely as mine.
Once again, his mouth crashes against mine and he scoops me up, swinging me around to straddle his lap. Pulling my hips forward, I rise on my knees as his head dips to claim a nipple.
Hellfire.
His touch is straight hellfire.
I cry out as he teases a bit of pain with a fang, lapping it away with his velvet tongue.
I’m addicted.
Addicted to this life he’s promised me.
To him.
His attention, his desire, his love.
I can’t breathe without it.
My hands travel down his broad shoulders, finding the buttons as he continues to lavish my breast with his swirling tongue. My own want, my demanding desire, pulls at his shirt and buttons pop.
Laughing, he lifts his face.
And my heart threatens to stop with the sight of him, my ribs squeezing tight.
“Always impatient,” he teases in a low drawl.
Not always.
Just often.
Amused excitement sparks through his eyes and he holds my stare as he removes his shirt and casts it aside. My breathing shallows, my heart pounding as I stare at this beautiful, dark, powerful fae.
He’s right.
An eternity of this still won’t be enough.
“Are you telling me you’d like to take your time in claiming what belongs to you?” I tease in return.
Something in those molten gold eyes snaps and his breathing becomes ragged. His hands tear at the waistband of my pants and with a bit of help from me, he flings them aside.
As I move to sit beside him, he stands, illuminating the muscled planes of his chest in the afternoon sun.
I stare, openly, at the beauty of his body, the wicked grin on his face feeding my feverish anticipation and lust. His trousers fall to the ground, revealing the thick, proud length of him and I slowly drag my eyes up to his.
I want all of him.
Every fucking inch.
I need to fuck him until we’re both left screaming our release.
“On your hands and knees, little love,” he says, lowering himself to his knees beside me.
Too eagerly, I listen.
And too eagerly he lies upon his back, cradling himself between my legs. With a gentle nudge, he urges my legs wider, and pulls my hips down to him. The instant his velvet tongue makes its first slow, arduous stroke, I let out a long revelrous moan.
Good gods, I’m going to shatter into stardust.
How easily this creature undoes me.
Hips moving in time with his skilled tongue, my fingers curl into the moss and dirt. The sight of his dark head between my legs leaves me completely and utterly drunk.
“I want to hear you.” His deep voice unfurls in my mind as I ride his face, climbing higher on my shimmering ecstasy.
“Work for it, nyraphim.” I pair the thought with well-earned moans.
The challenge proves easy for Ryc, and in a few skillful swirls of his tongue my moans turn to throaty cries. He continues as I’m dragged through pulsing waves of pleasure, of rapture, of euphoria, struggling to keep myself from collapsing.
Prying himself from beneath me to position himself behind me, his broad hands find my hips and his cock nudges at the apex of my thighs.
“Again.” He demands.
The combination of his low voice and the anticipation of him leaves me utterly dazed, unable to focus on anything other than the enraptured release coursing through my veins.
With an antagonistic slowness, he flexes his hips, burying himself just enough for me to gasp, but immediately withdraws—nearly entirely.
Not wanting him to leave, I sink my hips onto him and he groans, pitching himself over me as I slide to his hilt.
He presses a kiss to my shoulder, thrusting deeper, earning a soft cry from me.
As he slowly withdraws, a hand works into my hair, gripping it in a tight fist.
He starts slow, gentle, his grip tightening on my hip, pulling me into him. My fingers tear at the moss, leaving behind evidence of our tryst and my back arching to allow for deeper strokes. I match each pounding thrust and I’m reduced to gasping in pleasure as his hips grow faster, rougher.
Releasing my hair, he reaches under me, slipping a finger against the bundle of nerves between my legs. He draws slow, lazy circles around the center of me and—
I fucking shatter against him.
Reduced to stardust.
Again. Just like he wanted.
I burst into light as I melt into the universe, screaming his name.
Pulling myself from him, I turn, shoving him onto his back.
His surprised expression turns into his signature smirk as I climb over him.
Bracing my hands on his chest, I slowly lower myself onto him, relishing the absolute fullness of him.
My mind goes blank, moving on instinct with him—both of us racing toward sheer pleasure.
His hands fly to my hips, yanking me down onto him with a forceful thrust. His pleasured moan is nearly enough to send me over the edge again. My hips move, rolling against him as I ride him to the brink. Every muscle in my body winds in tight, his deep moans a heady drug—
“That’s it, little love, don’t stop.” His breathy voice rings clearly in my mind and, fuck, it’s going to be my undoing.
His lust, his intense desire, rips through our bond, and I’m launched into the stars crying out once again.
His grip on my hips grows tight, to the point of bruising, the kind of pain that sweetens the ecstasy.
His own release finds him and with a thundering roar, he pulls me down to him, his lips demanding mine.
Riding through his waves of pleasure with him, my nails dig into his chest. He clutches me close, his hands traveling up my back, pulling me into him. Giving him the full weight of me, I lay upon him, letting our pounding hearts thrum against one another.
He trails his fingers over my shoulder and down my spine, pressing a soft kiss to my brow. Tilting my face to his, he gives me a playful smirk.
“Eternity won’t be long enough.”
“No,” he says with another kiss. “It won’t be.”
Time loses meaning when we’re together.
As does every other demand of the realms.
And for gods know how long, we lay beside one another. Me curled in his arms, pressed as closely as possible, needing his warmth. Kissing my brow, Ryc brushes my hair out of my face with gentle fingers.
“We can’t spend the evening lying around here. At least not nude,” I say with a small laugh. “Castle staff—”
“Will gossip?” He arches his scarred dark brow. “Let them. They already whisper you’ve bewitched me, siren. I want them to know I’m the reason you sing.”
Leveling a flat glare at him, he bursts into laughter.
“Yes,” he says in a near growl. “I thrive on your scowls, little love,” he teases, an impish grin on his face. “Give them all to me and only to me.”
With a scoff of a laugh I reply, “Demon.”
Dragging his hand to my hip, his fingers still entwined with mine, he pulls me closer.
I already know what’s coming.
“Your demon,” he laughs and I can’t keep the smile from my face.
Slipping his hand from mine, he sits up. Assuming he’s listening to my suggestion of getting dressed, I do the same, reaching for my pants. They’re strung over a low hanging branch in a rather haphazard manner. My shirt, on the other hand, has been rendered to scrap.
“Oh no, wife,” Ryc laughs, lifting me into his arms.
Wife.
I’m his wife.
And he’s my husband.
Good gods, I’m fucking married.
By choice.
The single syllable leaves me a quivering mess. And I’m not left with time to linger on the thought as his lips demand mine, draining my mind of logic. Desire races through me once again and I moan.
He breaks our kiss with a laugh. “I’m not finished making you sing.”
It’s then I notice he’s moving through the arboretum, headed toward the hall and my eyes shoot wide.
“Ryc, what are you—”
“It’s a short walk to your quarters and you could use the few minutes to rest.” His amused gilded stare meets my incredulous one.
“So you’re going to—”
“We,” he corrects with a grin.
“Streak through the castle—”
“Our castle.” His grin grows.
“For all to see?”
“It’s tradition to carry your wife over the threshold of the home,” he says and my heart leaps into my throat.
There’s that word again.
“Wife.” The word leaves me in a heaved breath.
“Wife.” He nods.
The way it sounds when he says it leaves me dizzy.
A few heads turn in our direction drawn by our outburst and immediately eyes widen. With the utmost haste, many rush from the hall, their stares lowered to their feet. Their reactions cut through my shocked haze.
“I doubt this is done sans clothing, husband,” I laugh wildly, emphasizing the title with a teasing sneer.
He pauses, his eyes racing to mine.
Pressing his forehead against mine, he releases a shuddering breath.
“Your husband,” he corrects with an impish grin.
He sets off once again.
As Ryc enters the grand foyer, glass shatters and gasps cut through the air. Burying my face in my hands and laughing without restraint, I curl into his chest, bracing to hear more aghast shrieks as Ryc carries Erus’ Sovereign Queen across the threshold.