Page 93 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
“Show me how much.” I tugged at his trousers, rubbing the outline of his stiffness through the fabric.
“Oh, I’m going to.” But instead of letting me free him, he swung me over his shoulder. “And it kills me to wait, but after that, I need to fuck you every way I know how, and that’s going to take some time. I don’t want your little toes getting cold.” His claw grazed the sole of my foot, wrenching a shriek from me that dissolved into a groan as he slid a finger into my pussy.
“Sepher. Shit. What are you doing to me?”
“Enjoying you.” He laughed as he carried me through the corridors, finger-fucking me all the way.
By the time we reached his rooms, I was trembling on the verge of another release, but every time I came close, he stilled his hand.
“What the hells?” My voice shook with frustration and something close to rage when he threw me on the bed.
“Patience.” He laughed as he kissed me and sliced his claws through my gown. He parted its tattered edges and took me in like he had all the time in the world and hadn’t just stopped me from climaxing.
“You wear my patience very thin.”
“Mm-hmm.” He nodded as he peeled off his shirt. “Maybe now you understand just how deliciously infuriatingyouare.” He shucked off his trousers, and my mouth went dry at the sight of his cock standing proud.
“Oh, I understand.” I smiled up at him and crawled across the bed. “Maybe I can make you understand how cruel it is to stop what you’ve started.”
His eyes widened as he realised what I was about to do. With a flash of my teeth, I wrapped my hand around his length. He went very still as I held his gaze and bent down.
I ran my tongue over his broad head, tasted the salty bead of moisture there, lived for his sharp intake of breath.
He watched as I lapped again, and this time I tongued the small slit at his tip, catching a little more of his salted slickness. The heady taste filled me, gathering more heat between my legs.
Then I sucked him into my mouth. I tried to take it all. And failed.
Even when I loosened my throat, I had to use my hand to help cover him.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Yes, Zita.” His hand fisted in my hair. When I met his gaze, I found his pupils blown wide, only a thin rim of gold remaining as he stared at me with my mouth around his cock.
I pulled back, pumping with my hand as I swirled my tongue over his head. He twitched with a groan, and when I swallowed him down again, his hips surged forward to meet me. That was it. That was what I wanted—him fucking my mouth, my prince greedy for me.
“That man,” he rasped, chest heaving. “The one who betrayed you. Who is he to you?”
He wanted to talk about Eric now? I grazed my teeth over his underside and frowned up at him as we kept up our rhythm.
“Did you do this with him?”
Yes and no. I pulled off him and licked again. “Sometimes.”
The hand in my hair tightened as I took the tip between my lips and ran my tongue around the ridge between his head and shaft.
His darkened eyes narrowed. “Did he make you come like I do?”
I sucked the end, flicking my tongue over it, and shook my head.
“Good.” He said it with a feral intensity that should’ve warned me of what was about to come.
He ripped from my mouth and grabbed my hips. With one swift movement, he had me bent over the bed. “He wrote to me.”
His hand splayed across the small of my back, pinning me so I could only grip the sheets and look back over my shoulder.
“Asked about your fate.” He squeezed my arse, opening me to his inspection.
Like his gaze was a touch, it heated me, made me even wetter, and I arched my back for him. A wicked grin curled his lips as his nose wrinkled in something like a snarl.
My heart thundered in response, recognising the need in him and the anger, wanting them both.
