Page 73 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
I lost myself in watching him and feeling him as he switched to my other breast, laving it as he held my waist. The need in me rose and rose, an overwhelming storm cloud rolling in from an angry sea.
When he worked his way down my belly, kissing and licking and nipping, I lost my mind entirely. He passed my belly button and looked up. “Tell me to stop.”
My chest was tight with anticipation, breaths fast. I shook my head. “Never.”
Glaring at me with flushed cheeks and mussed hair, he said with vicious intensity, “Fuck.”
Then the prince kneeled.
There was nothing gentle in the way he gripped my thighs and spread them wide, but I didn’t want gentle. His claws pierced my skin, pricked my awareness, sending shards of pain through me at the exact moment his rough tongue ran my length.
The world behind my eyelids exploded as I came. Pleasure and pain combined in a terrible thunderstorm that buffeted me like I was a sparrow caught in its unbending will.
I throbbed and trembled, coming back to earth to find Sepher smirking up at me, even more insufferable than ever.
“Already?” He arched one eyebrow, framed by my bloodied thighs, where a dozen tiny scratches lit my skin. “Was one touch from my tongue all it took to break the stubborn little beast?”
I tried to tell him to go fuck himself, but I hadn’t yet mastered my body.
“Let’s see how many more times I can break you.”
He bent to me with another long lick that lifted me somewhere sparkling. Its roughness speared me as he circled my clit and ran along my slit.
It was more than just touch. It reached into me and pulled out every broken, messy part and put it on display, as I turned into a seething, writhing mass coated in blood and sweat and sin.
He fucked me with his tongue, its length shocking as it swept into me. I came upon it, crying out as he consumed my essence and a low rumble spilled from him into me like distant thunder.
Not pulling away, he released one thigh and held up two blood-tipped fingers.
“I fucking hate you,” I managed to push out between ragged breaths.
It was true, in a manner. But not in the same way it had been true when I’d first arrived.
I hated him.
I hated that I wanted him.
I hated that I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to stop.
I hated that I didn’t even want to try.
And I hated that as he reached for the oil, it filled me with as much anticipation as trepidation, fluttering low in my belly like another building climax.
“What are you…?”
The tip of his tail came into view and he coated it in oil.
“Where are you putting that?” My voice came out in a hoarse whisper.
At last, he pulled away and met my gaze. His eyes glinted with wicked intent as he licked up my inner thigh, cutting through the thin rivulets of blood.
“You’re mine, Zita.” Again, that slight purr of his voice over my name. It made my breath hitch as his tail dipped out of sight.
Both hands back in place, he lifted my legs, high and wide, splaying me utterly. His chest heaved as he paused and took in the sight, that private smile curving his lips. “Such an exquisite creature,” he murmured so softly, I wasn’t sure he intended to say it out loud.
A slick touch slid along the crevice of my arse cheeks, sending my heart racing harder, faster in a race it could never win. The throb echoed in every part of my body, an insistent demand.
He paused at my hole, circling it.
