CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX #2
Sparks leapt to her fingertips and she clutched the metal rods as if they tethered her to this earth. After only a dozen passes of his tongue, she quickly climbed, her magic rampant, and as he circled that spot, flames roared through her veins, her back bowed off the bed, and—
He pulled away, and a pathetic whimper slipped from her.
“Already, angel?” He tsked under his breath. “Surely you want me to work for it at least a little.” He groaned as he licked up her center again, and Emmery cried out, her release already coiled tightly. “But if you’re so keen why don’t I make you come two, no—three times?”
She lost her breath as he teased her with the lightest caress.
“No?” He hummed thoughtfully into her skin. “Four then? Five?
“Arrogant—” she snarled, but he cut off her thought with another long luxurious stroke of his tongue.
“Oh, Emmery, I don’t think you want to test the limits of my arrogance.” He tilted his head and grinned. “Why don’t I keep going until you beg me to stop? Until you can’t take anymore.”
“Dez, I swear to the gods—” she hissed, but as he continued his leisurely rhythm, a carnal sound tore from her like that from their vision and replaced her words.
Even with Dez’s claimed inexperience, he tuned into her body and followed that noise like a guide.
His tongue unravelled her as his fingers sank into her soft thighs to keep them parted exactly how he wanted.
When he sucked on that sensitive flesh, she lost control, writhing against him, and one of his thorns nicked her leg. A low feral groan escaped his throat as he lapped up the blood, kissing away the hurt and shooting lightning ecstasy through her veins.
He returned to her center and a heaviness built low in her body. Her hips rolled against his mouth, seeking more friction. More, more, more—
As if reading her mind, he slid a finger inside her. Emmery gasped and immediately tightened around him. The curl of his finger stroked something that made her eyes roll back, and a breath rushed out of her. Like the stars collided, her world became a mess of fire and sparks and infinities.
Dez chuckled darkly. “Like that?”
Effortlessly, he caressed that spot again, and her hips bucked into his touch, leaving her on the brink of oblivion. Golden flames climbed past her wrists and sparks danced off her fingertips. She was going to light the whole damned room on fire, but she was too out of her mind to care.
“Mmm, yeah. Like that.” He panted, so desperate, so feral, so undone. “Em, what are you doing to me? You’re not even touching me, and I’m right there. Ready to come apart for you.”
When his tongue and fingers moved in tandem, the iron headboard melted under her grip, as the sensations twined up her spine. She gasped his name, chanted it over and over, became frenzied, lost, disjointed—
He held her gaze as he reached into his pants and took his thick length into his hand. His moan vibrated through her as he pumped his hand in time with each flick of his tongue and caress of his fingers. The muscles in his shoulders and arms strained and flexed in the moonlight.
Watching him take his pleasure elevated hers, and she quickly built and built until the universe became too dense, too small, all wound into this tiny pinprick of a moment. And she erupted.
Mindless, untamed, her flames soared up her arms, and a strangled sound ripped from her throat. The sensations collided and her entire being tightened and unravelled, head spinning, body trembling. Her climax tore through her like tumbling from a cliffside after clinging to the edge for too long.
A release she’d never shared with anyone.
Dez groaned as he found release with her, and matched her through each pulse, drawing out her pleasure. As she came down, her legs still quivered, but she snuffed out the flames climbing to her elbows.
Mesmerized, Dez stared up at her and grinned like a demon as she lifted a single finger off the headboard. “Not yet,” he said, his voice impossibly sultry. “It seems I’ve developed an addiction to your flames.”
Then he proceeded to do it again. And again. And again, until she lost track of how many times she climbed and toppled off the cliffside. Only when she was limp and tangled in sensation, did she beg him to stop as he’d warned she would.
After he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, he stood from the bed, staggered, but caught himself. His chest heaved and his eyes fluttered shut as the thorns retracted and left behind deep ragged wounds. Blood soaked him, even his waistband, yet a smug smile lifted his wet lips.
Holy gods. Aside from everything, that smile did something to her and her face burned. She wasn’t sure if she was embarrassed or—
Her mind emptied as he took his fingers into his mouth, the ones that had been inside her, and hummed a melodic satisfied sound as he sucked them clean and stepped back toward the bathing room.
A pang of untamed desire soared through her and her jaw fell slack as she stared dumbfounded at the closed door.
She didn’t know what to do with herself or how to process how unfathomably perfect that was.
How she was sure that was not his first time.
It couldn’t be. But then again, Dez excelled at everything, so why would this be an exception?
After she retrieved her shirt, she studied his blood smeared on her stomach and thighs.
Gods, it smelled … enticing. Too enticing.
And as she watched it dribble down her body, she bit into her cheek as her mind raced.
With a sigh, she gave into those impulses, reached for her vial, and captured a few drops inside, before she stashed it beneath her pillow.
When Dez returned, his wounds had clotted impressively fast, no blood in sight, and he wore a clean pair of shorts. She bit down on her bottom lip as her eyes leisurely perused his shirtless form, until she noticed the damp washcloth in his hand. At that, she lifted a brow.
“Unless you want to lick it off like a kitten. Or wear it as war paint,” he teased. He waved his fingers in a come-hither motion. She tried to take the cloth from him, but he shook his head. “Let me. Please.”
Damn it. It was always the please that got her.