Page 70 of Hope Forged
A smile teased the corner of his mouth. He lifted his arm nearest to her while patting his chest with his other hand. “Lie with me.”
She shuffled closer until she could rest her head on his shoulder and splay her fingers across his sternum.
He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled, a hum escaping his pinched lips. “I love your natural scent: rain, sunlight, and something feminine.”
“I bathed in the lake,” she said.
“Mm, I would like to watch you do that again. A fond memory,” he said, dropping his chin to kiss her forehead.
“Illan,” she said on an exhale.
He pulled away, met her gaze, then swooped in, capturing her lips with his. A groan followed, so deep it rumbled through her hand trapped between them. “Elorach, the taste of you—” He swept his tongue into her mouth, luring hers out to play.
“Don’t start something you won’t finish,” she said when he dusted kisses along her neck to her collarbone.
He pulled back and held her gaze for what seemed like forever. “Will you be mine?”
“Yes,” she said, conviction in her tone.
He trailed a touch down her cleavage, cool air tightening a nipple when he brushed the robe aside. The heat of his mouth made her whimper, more so when delicious tendrils of joy shot to her core, clenching it.
While his tongue made her squirm, with the ache for pleasure intensifying, he stroked a path along her outer thigh. Then up her inner thigh where her scar used to be. He nudged her legs apart, using his knuckles. She obeyed, desperate for another fulfillment.
And he didn’t delay, stroking along her seam. Her breath hitched when he ventured deeper, caressing parts of her zinging with need.
“Illan,” she mumbled, relishing each flick of his finger.
He bumped her hip, tilting her onto her back. “Better,” he said, his breath fanning where she burned for him. He’d removed his hand, no longer giving her incredible joy.
She frowned, opening her mouth to remind him that he’d promised.
But he met her gaze from her parted thighs, watching, waiting.
He dipped, running his tongue where his fingers had been.
She keened, arching as divine bliss slammed into her. His arm across her hips held her still, his tongue merciless. She writhed, welcoming the torrent of pleasure. It bathed every inch inside of her, curling her toes. Shivers so addictive took control of her body, pebbling her nipples.
Her ability to breathe returned, her heartbeat slowing. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her.
A slow smile crawled across his sensual mouth. He settled between her legs, spreading them wide. “My ohara,” he growled.
The head of his…kock pressed at her sex.
He pushed in. Despite Oz’s warning to her, the sensation couldn’t compare to what she’d expected. She stretched, taking his thickness, even as his ‘appendage’ stroked along her insides.
“Ziamee,” he rasped, pausing when his pelvis met the back of her thighs.
“So incredible,” she mumbled, unable to explain what he was evoking in her. She never wanted him to leave.
He chuckled. “Wait.”
He pulled out, drawing a cry from her. But when he slammed into her, all her thoughts scattered. She didn’t care about anything, just that he’d do that again.
“Wrap your legs around me, ohara,” he commanded.
She did.
“And look at me.”
