Page 102 of Stolen Threadwitch Bride
I bit my lip and unscrewed the bottle, dripping the oil on my fingers and thumbs. “What do I say?”
“Anything you want. You can’t go wrong.” He gave a half smile. “This is for us, no one else.”
When I tiptoed and reached for his forehead, he bowed to help. “My beloved.” I couldn’t help but flash a grin as I slid my fingertips along the edge of his ears making every one of his muscles ripple. “My fae.” It felt appropriate with the points of his ears digging into the pads of my index fingers. “My husband.”
Collarbones next, then nipples. Maybe it was the first chill of night in the air, but they were stiff under my touch. When I drew a line down from his bellybutton, I didn’t stop at his hair—my fingertip ventured through it until it reached his cock, half-hard, and continued along it, only stopping at the very tip.
His jaw flexed, and a low sound, not quite a groan, came from low in his chest.
I knelt, looking up at him as he had me, and it was a surrender. I would let him do whatever he wanted. He’d shown me he knew far more of sex than I did, and every time we came together, he saw to my needs many times over before he took his own pleasure.
He wasn’t a slave to it and it wasn’t his duty—those terms suggested hehadto please me.
No, the way he plunged himself into it—it was his passion, his prayer… his art.
I anointed his hips, just above the line that pointed down to his length, which grew harder with each touch. “My wonder.” His knees, the back of his feet. “My night.”
He held out his hand and helped me to my feet. His smile was as gentle as his touch when he gathered me against his bare body, the oiled parts of us gliding together. “I always wonder when you say that… Is it night with aKor anN?”
Pressed against him, I rose to my tiptoes, revelling in the way the slick points of my nipples slid over his skin and his dick pressed into my belly.
“Can’t it be both?” I lifted my eyebrows in question as his hands spread over my back. “It was nothing like the stories—you didn’t ride in on a white sabrecat and you had no shining armour. But you rescued me all the same.” I half shrugged. “Even if I didn’t realise I needed rescuing.”
With a shake of his head, he lifted me until our faces were level. “I didn’t rescue you.” He nuzzled my jaw, my nose, taking a long breath in as though he loved the mingled scent of the oil and the lilacs andusas much as I did. “This place just gave you space to breathe, that’s all. If anything,yourescuedme.”
I toyed with the short hair behind his ears and he shivered, most likely at how close I was to such a sensitive area. “Again, can’t both be true?”
He laughed, the sound reverberating through me. “Are you sure you’re not fae?”
He captured my chuckle with his lips, pulling me into a slow kiss that grew deeper as he carried me to the bed. I wrapped around him, taking his tongue, sliding mine against it, skin burning as his hardness pressed against my softness, stoking sweet pleasure at my core.
Placing me on the bed, he kissed his way down my neck, following the path of my scars, down my chest, the side of my breast. My heart drove faster, pulse throbbing at my throat, my wrists, and deep inside.
My beloved. My fae. My husband. Mine to bond with.
Good gods, how was my heart still beating? Surely it was stuffed to bursting with this bright joy.
He glanced up at me and smiled like he knew what I felt and had that same brightness in him. I hoped he did.
Still kissing every bare inch of flesh, his long fingers slipped between my legs, stealing my breath as he traced my edges. He skirted past the knot of nerves that tightened in anticipation.
Tease. He loved to do that. And although it always led somewhere glorious, the withholding killed me every time.
Well, two could play that game. I ran my fingers through his silken hair and trailed the outline of his ears, coaxing a groan from his throat that hummed into me.
His eyes closed, a tight frown of focus between his eyebrows, while his breaths came quicker. His touch slid to my pussy, not quite entering, and swept up that centre line, finally landing on the spot that throbbed for his attention.
“Ly,” I breathed as my body arched, delicious tension seizing my back like a bow bent to the huntsman’s will.
Chest heaving, he opened his eyes, that frown still in place. “Gods damn it, Ari.” He surged up and claimed my mouth in a searing kiss. “You keep that up and I’m not going to last to take you.”
I bit back a grin and stopped tormenting his ears. Instead I pulled him to my lips again. The way he drove his tongue inside my mouth said he didn’t mind that at all.
His insistent touch, circling, gliding, pulled me more and more taut. I whimpered against his mouth, but that only made his kiss more urgent, his lips firm, his tongue invading, just as he dipped a finger inside me.
I came apart with a cry, every muscle thrumming like a bowstring released the second before it broke. Dark and light and consuming pleasure. The writhing tension of my body under his command. There was nothing else.
Then the world seeped back in, his slick touch in and on me, his mouth hovering just above mine, sharing the same air and letting me catch my breath as my lungs heaved like bellows at the forge. I must’ve crushed the flowers in my hair, spreading their scent on the sheets, because a wave of lilac broke over me.
