22. An Eerie Name #4
“Probably,” he replies with a huff and a laugh. “Actually…I’m quite certain I will, but that’s a worry for tomorrow that I welcome. Today, I don’t really give a damn.”
Making him live to regret those words emboldens me.
“Have you ever heard the saying ‘Put your money where your mouth is’?”
A grin spreads, amusement lighting his features. “Yes.”
“Care to show me what it means, then?”
Then we are flesh to flesh, and his mouth is laying claim to mine.
Not so much a kiss as an explorative dance, and somehow the magic demands it from us both, electric charges now instead of sparks, heady want filling my veins and running rampant now that restraint has fled.
His fingers brand my skin, dig in, and mold my body to his.
Firm and packed with muscle, slick with water.
He lifts me easily, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me from the water. Cool lake laps at my skin for a fleeting second before it falls away, leaving only the brush of air.
My skin pebbles, but heat follows—his body, his breath—as he lowers me onto the sun-warmed earth and moves over me, covering me completely.
He draws back and palms my face, then scans it. “Magic is more powerful when wielded by two. Tell me, do you sense this?”
His head tilts as he stares down at me. “Never mind. I see the answer in your eyes, like stars from within. Tell me, Priestess. Have you ever done this before? Given fully into it and let it consume you in moments like this?”
Not the magic, but in a way very much like this. Nodding, I assure him. “I have.”
“Was it good for you? Was it what you wanted with a male you desired?”
That takes longer to answer, and I don’t know why I offer him the truth, but I do. “Not at first, but in time I came to love him and want it. It was one of my duties for the Order.”
A troubled expression fills his features. “I’m sorry. Love making should never be forced on you, no matter the reason. Did he at least give you pleasure and make you come?”
“Yes, I found pleasure with him. It…I cared very much for him… It was about duty, but soon became more than that, for us both, I believe, there at the end.”
A sad smile. “Good.”
“Trust me. I wasn’t taken advantage of. I knew what I was doing.”
“And do you still want this? With me?”
I rise and plant my lips against his until his tense body relaxes. I run my fingers through the strands of his grey hair and meet his gaze when I answer. “I do.”
He gauges the earnestness in my expression and nods.
But then he rises some to let his eyes travel down the expanse of my torso.
His large hand comes up and caresses my chest, palms, and holds my breast. His head dips, and he laps at my nipple, a sensation I haven’t felt before.
My hips buck up to meet his, and he grinds his length against my stomach.
“Shhh. Shhh. Easy. I’ve got you, Eliora.
” He works his mouth across my flesh. Soft and hard kisses, small laps with his tongue.
He pays attention to my other breast before moving down the valley between both and peppering my stomach with kisses.
He noses my belly button and mutters one word, “cute,” then throws me a sexy smile before descending further.
And then, God in Heaven, he touches me where I ache. Where I’ve ached for so long to be touched again. His tongue draws up my sex and flutters over my clit. A cry leaves me as my head kicks back. “Orán. Horseman! Oh, great God, do that again.”
He does, and I swear to all that’s holy, the magic isn’t just working on him.
It’s working over me because the sensations of his mouth devouring my sex and paying homage to the small nub there have my body igniting with the fever to be taken, to be used, and made whole again through the experience of finding that divine connection together.
When his thick finger finds my entrance, I slide my hand into his hair and press back against it, hungry for more, more of him, his mouth, his body. “Yes, there. Ugh. Please.”
“You taste of sunlight mixed with the dew after a morning mist. I could eat you all damn day. And I just might, if given the time.” His tongue joins his finger, and he presses it in deeper. “The way you clench around me. You need this, don’t you, Eliora?”
“What does”—I gasp—“what does that word mean?”
“Dear one. Someone worthy of being cherished and protected.”
Then he retreats and pulls my leg up, wrapping it over his hip. “This may hurt at first. Your body is small, little one, and I’ll be gentle, but here.” He presses his thumb into my mouth. “Bite down so I might share the pain. I can’t bear you being the only one to receive it.”
With his other hand, he guides his cock to my entrance and slides the tip through the wetness there.
Then, with his eyes locked with mine, he asks the one question that I’m not capable of answering without my conscience getting the best of me.
“Ready?” As if he’s both warning me and seeking permission to take me for the first time.
My body says yes, my head says yes, but my past comes back to haunt me.
“Say it if so. Need you to voice this if it’s what you want, Eliora.”
I wrap my lips around his thumb, swirling my tongue around it, reveling in the taste of him.
I whisper my answer as I mentally chase away my own demons.
“Yes.” Barely a word at all as it huskily leaves my lips.
But the acknowledgment and acquiescence reassure him, and he nods once before slowly sliding his cock inside me.
My hand moves up, over his thick chest—his skin grounding me. The rune is a symbol I desire to know more about, and the sight of it keeps me present. I let my nails dig into the ridge of his shoulders.
“You feel…Ah, holy gates, you’re…so very tight, love.
A welcome, I assure you, but one that tempts me to rush.
To ruin. To unravel all the parts of you I’ve wanted to see.
You have… no idea…how long I prayed for this outcome…
longed to be inside you, somehow knowing that it would feel so bloody damn good. You feel…”
His words die off as he shakes his head back and forth. His eyes flutter as if in untold pleasure. The muscles along his arms bulge, the veins a prominent jagged line highlighting the power he contains.
As I hold on for dear life to more than he’s aware of, he retreats and drives forward with purpose again.
I set my teeth against his knuckle. I bite down as the pain registers. It’s sharp and aches outward. A tempered whine while he lets out a deep moan. “Yes, that’s it, share it with me.”
I don’t hold back, and neither does he as he begins to really move. I groan through the pain. He lets out a primal growl in response. “Sweet angel. That’s what you are. No witch. A gift sent here to wait for me.”
He pumps deeply. Greedily. We both fall to sin willingly, and I revel in the feel of him. All of him. It takes my body a moment to open, to accept him, to get accustomed to the stretch of his size, and then the fever pitches higher.
Magic weaves over skin, layering my flesh in tingles that pull me under. I gasp at the sensation and draw in a lungful of air.
We kiss again and devour like meals can be made of the flesh. Lip to lip. Lip to skin. His to my neck. Mine to his.
He withdraws as the throes come to claim their due—my orgasm on the cusp of a peak not yet traveled.
His breath stutters, a quiet curse slipping through his teeth.
He circles his hips to hit pleasure points I didn’t know existed.
Within moments, he’s driving into me with more vigor.
My body wakes as if from a dream. It responds in ways I’m not prepared for.
It ravenously demands everything he offers.
It pleads. It begs. And I share none of it, trying to tamp down the hunger so it doesn’t otherwise spin out of my control.
The bliss is also sweet agony. I meet his need with my own, and the craving for more of his punishing pleasure doesn’t leave my lips. He hears it all the same and delivers.