Page 155 of The Blade in the Ashes
Neither of us moved. Neither of our chests rose nor fell.Neither of us looked away.
Until, with a quivering, sudden inhale, he said, “Fuck, little bird, of course I’ll have you.”
I wasted no time in bowing my head to meet his lips, needing him to not only hear the truth in my words but tofeelthem against his skin. I wanted him to feel my touch, feel my heart pounding for him, feel my very soul calling out for his. He parted for me instantly, hands rising from my hips to glide up my spine, pulling me closer to his warmth.
His tongue danced with mine, and it felt like being struck through by lightning, sending shivers racing down every nerve and lifting the hair along the back of my neck as I clung to him. My fingers tangled into his auburn hair, the silken strands sliding easily into my grasp.
He tasted like home. His kiss felt as familiar as it was intoxicating.
And I wanted more.
“I remember what you like,” he told me, pulling away to press a line of kisses down my neck. When he nipped at that hollow in my throat that left my toes curling, I knew he meant those words deeply. “Remember all the sounds you make. Can I hear them once more?”
“You’re hurt,” I reminded him, trying to calm the fire that was sparking to life deep inside of me. He had been shot with an arrow only days ago. Sex was the last thing he needed.
It might be the first thing both of us wanted, but one of us needed to think responsibly.
Nikolai’s hands pulled at the tunic that was tucked into my cotton pants, gently lifting it to press his palms flat against the oversensitive skin of my back. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he looked up at me, his desire undeniable. “So, be gentle with me.”
Well, maybe responsibility was overrated.
His gaze bore into mine, and when it dropped to my mouth as he dragged his lower lip between his teeth, I lost all senseof self-control.
I lifted my arms high above my head in a silent show of submission, and his possessive growl tore through me as he ripped the fabric off. The band around my breasts followed, then his own shirt, until the only thing between us was the dressing of his wound.
The brief separation from his mouth was too long, and I hungrily pressed forward again, needing to feel his lips move against mine. I traced my fingers over his shoulders, unable to stop my nails from scraping against the skin.
I remembered too. I remembered what he had felt like and the sounds he had made. I remembered how perfectly he had fit inside me.
I’d dreamed of that feeling every night since he’d found me in the woods again.
Climbing off him, I rose to remove my trousers before lowering myself to my knees before him. He watched me unblinkingly, arms coming to rest wide on the back of the couch as he followed the movements of my fingers undoing the laces of his pants. I reached for him, wanting to claim every inch of him, but the sound of his sudden hiss as he lifted to help me tug his pants down his hips forced my movements to come to a startling halt.
“Nikolai—”
“Don’t you dare stop.”
“You’re hurt!”
His eyes blazed with intensity as his fingers clenched and released while he held himself back. “I’ve lived through worse, my bird, and right now I don’t care in the slightest about this wound so long as I end up inside of you.”
Still, I hesitated for a moment until my own need became an undeniably tangible force. Wetness was already pooling between my thighs and that desire stopped me from thinking logically.
So, I took him in my hands, wrapped my fingers around the smooth warmth of him and held his gaze as I bowed my head to run the tip ofmy tongue over the thick vein on the underside of his length. Instantly, whatever control he had been grasping onto shattered. With a guttural groan and a shuddering breath, his hand locked onto the back of my head, holding me close as I swirled my tongue over the tip of him before bringing him completely into my mouth.
His words became a jumbled mess of praise as I slid my lips over him, and I couldn’t stop myself from latching onto each one of those slurred words and committing them to memory. Nikolai kept himself from moving against me, but the slight jerks his hips would make from time to time betrayed that he wanted to.
“This is torture,” he groaned.
I licked my lips, running my tongue over him once more as I smiled up at him. “That’s not how most men would describe it.”
He reached for me, tugging on my arm insistently so he could guide me back onto his lap. Reaching down, he aligned himself against my entrance, soaking himself with my obvious arousal. The feel of him rubbing against that bundle of nerves left me moaning, and he grinned at the sound.
“Ride me,” he commanded, and, for once, I was more than happy to do as I was told.
I sank down on him, inch by glorious inch, feeling him stretch me, and I shifted my hips, desperate to accommodate him. His size had been impressive during our first time together, but at this angle? He was impossibly deeper, hitting the most toe-curling spots in me.
His arms tightened around me as he leaned his forehead to my chest, breathing me in as I took him deeper and deeper.
