Page 114 of The Crown of the Dark Prince
Clay pulled that hair once more, forcing me to tilt my throat so he could set his sights on the delicate skin there, sucking and nibbling with such fever that my knees went weak.
Gods, I wanted him. Now, tomorrow, and every day after that. For as long as I could have him.
He took the lobe of my ear between his teeth and I sighed, pulling him to my mouth again. I needed that delicate push and pull of his tongue darting over mine again. He kissed me like it was our first and last time all at once,like he couldn’t ever get enough of me, like he burned for me as desperately as I did for him.
As if I needed that confirmation, I dipped my hand between us, stroking across the thick length of him over his trousers. Clay groaned and leaned into my hand, head falling back softly before he set his sights on my jacket, working to undo the many clasps and buckles that kept it strapped on my form.
“Never wear this again,” he growled.
“I thought you liked this outfit,” I pouted, breathless.
He grinned when he undid the last clasp and slid the leather off my shoulders so that it fell to the floor with a heavy smack. In an instant, he wrapped one arm behind my waist and another under my knee, lifting me onto the countertop with ease.
“I like you better naked.”
And then his mouth was on me, lips sucking and tongue darting over the peak of my breast while his fingers toyed with my other exposed nipple.
“Oh, Gods,” I leaned into his touch, desperate for more, gasping sharply when he pinched that delicate tip between his fingers even as a pulse of desire coiled through my core.
“I see no Gods here,” he said, his voice thick with passion as he pulled back and wrapped his hands through my hair. “Just one fucking perfect Goddess.”
My fingers grasped the hem of his tunic, needing it off him, and he let me take control, sliding it off with impossible slowness. Unblinking, he watched me as I explored the expanse of him, running my fingers across the bands of tight muscles, delicately tracing the thin faint scar lines that crossed his skin at odd angles. I lingered at one particularly large scar across his side, the shape a half moon.
The scar from Camilla’s shadow beast nearly killing him when he fought for me.
“I’d do it a million times over,” he swore, reading my thoughts.
He tugged me off the counter, reaching for the waistband of my pants to pull them to the floor, only so that he could trace his way back up my legs with kisses pressed into my flushed skin. I tangled my fingers in his unruly hair, grounding myself in his silky strands and breathing in his cinnamon scent.
When he arrived at the apex of my thighs, he pressed a gentle kiss there before his arm was around my waist and he was lifting my back onto the counter, fingers replacing where his mouth was, ripping out tiny breathless cries from me as he ran his touch from my entrance to that explosive spot I craved him most.
“My perfect Goddess,” he mused again, dipping inside me with aching slowness. “So fucking warm and wet for me.”
I whimpered, rolling my hips to chase his touch, imploring to go faster, harder.
“So needy,” he chastised, watching me as his fingers pumped in and out, building me to that place where the world faded from existence, but not quite letting me get there. “You’re so beautiful, far too beautiful for this realm.”
My eyes slammed shut as the muscles in my core locked around his fingers, only to cry out in anger when the feel of him disappeared. He stepped back, loosening the ties of his pants and shedding them without ever breaking eye contact.
Purposefully, I did not try to hide when my eyes trailed his body, lingering over the parts of him that made my pulse quicken.Hewas beautiful. And perfect. And everything.
He was everything.
“Come to me,” I commanded, and he obliged, stepping forward again into me, mouth slamming into mine as his fingers wrapped around myankles and lifted, pushing them onto the counter so that I was spread open for him.
The position was entirely exposing, evoking enough vulnerability that my stomach flipped for a moment before his tongue darted over his bottom lip as he looked down at me.
“Fucking perfect,” he said, almost to himself with a shake of his head before he aligned himself to my entrance and gently pushed in.
I cried out, clinging to shoulders for support as I adjusted to the impossible fullness of him. I let him stretch me until the shock of pain faded into the most exquisite of sensations. Clay rolled his hips, slowly working into me, each motion sweeter than the last. I fell back, grasping onto the wall behind me for leverage to push my hips up to meet him, our bodies finding a perfect rhythm together.
He watched me with burning passion clear in his gaze, the muscles in his abdomen clenched and his jaw tight. Each movement sent me closer and closer to oblivion, my cries becoming more frantic by the minute.
“More,” I panted. “Faster.”
He obliged, grasping onto my hips and pulling me onto him to meet each thrust, the length of him reaching impossible depths inside me.
I was so close.
