Twenty-Five #3
Turning my back on him, I made a beeline for one of the tables that had been arranged toward the front of the room—right beneath a chandelier, incredibly well lit for all eyes to see.
A few interested Evers had already begun their pursuit.
They followed after me with wide grins and lust-filled stares, and they didn’t bother to hide their arousal.
When I reached the table, I shoved off the platters of food and drink, and the sound of clattering dishes only drew more eyes to me. And more interest.
Before the first Ever could put his hand on my thigh, Rorik was there. He gripped the man’s wrist so tight I swore I heard his bone snap, and Rorik snarled in response. The few others who’d come near stalled, waiting to see whom I’d pick.
“Seems like I got you out of your chair,” I said, leaning back and parting my legs in invitation.
He let out a possessive hiss as he took a step toward the Evers, flexing his hands. A swell of magic churned about his form, heating the space, and he bared his teeth at them with murderous intent. They immediately backed away with their hands up, gazes flicking between me and him.
My mouth opened in a gasp of pure desire.
The way he stood against them, the way he wanted to claim me as his own .
. . There was an undeniable, carnal need raging down our heartbond, and once he was satisfied that our onlookers had found other ways to occupy their hands, he stalked toward me.
Burying one hand in my hair, he brought the other to my low back and arched my body into him.
The sudden presence of his touch was like fire against my skin.
He placed a bruising kiss at the soft spot where my ear and neck met. “Do you remember what I told you at the last fete beneath the stars?”
“You said many things that night,” I murmured, and his grip tightened. A moan shuddered through me.
“Indeed.” He was a picture of lust and hunger.
His eyes were trained on me, but his lips were parted, his breath hard and uneven.
Every muscle in his body was tense. “But I think you know what I’m referring to.
How I plan to watch you writhe with unbearable want as I make you wait to feel the pleasure of release. ”
“Fuck, yes.” I gripped the collar of his shirt and began to tear it open.
A groan spilled from his lips. “Edira, if this happens . . .”
“It doesn’t have to be anything,” I said, frantically searching for whatever words would get him to stay.
I couldn’t have him walk away again. Not when he was so close to giving me what my body so clearly desired.
“It can just be sex. It’ll strengthen our .
. .” I bit back the words before anyone could overhear.
It’ll strengthen this. I stroked our heartbond and felt a shiver of pleasure stem from him.
Just sex, then. He gave me one last look.
One last chance to change my mind. I pulled his mouth to mine and bit on his lower lip until he hissed in response.
He tore at my clothes without fully removing them, giving himself the pleasure of seeing my body without allowing the whole room to feast on my naked form.
“Lie back,” he demanded, and I fell onto the table without an ounce of hesitation. He pulled my ass closer to the edge and then ripped my panties to shreds. Pure hunger filled his eyes. And then he drove two fingers deep inside of me while biting down on my shoulder. Hard.
The moan that escaped my lips was loud enough to draw the focus of one or two more Evers.
Like before, they inched closer, and one woman managed to snake her hand through my hair before Rorik snarled at her.
She bit her own lip in response, clearly turned on by the act, and quickly found herself a willing participant on the floor nearby.
No one touches you. His words were a seductive claim in my mind, and all I could do was nod as I rocked my hips against his fingers.
I need you to fuck me, Rorik. My body was already writhing beneath his touch. I needed more. I needed all of him. And I needed it now.
Beg for it. His hands went to his pants. Slowly, painfully, he undid his trousers.
My mouth watered. Please.
Out loud. So the whole fucking world can hear.
“Please, Rorik,” I moaned.
“Louder.” His cock was in his hand, and he stroked it once. Twice. Then pressed the broad tip of his head against my clit. I let out a sharp gasp as my head banged against the table.
“Fuck me, Rorik,” I begged. “I need you inside of me. I need to feel your release.”
His grin was downright sinful. “You will.”
And then he buried himself inside of me.
I lost all semblance of control as my entire world became the feel of him sliding deep into my core.
The sounds of the room faded to nothing more than a muted din.
The lighting darkened so my vision was only on Rorik.
And gods, did he feel incredible. Every thrust was a stroke of pure ecstasy, and the coil of need in my abdomen was wound so unbearably tight.
I was close. So damn close. I wanted it to last forever, but at the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from begging for more. For it to be faster. Harder.