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“Shh.” I press kisses to her neck and ease slowly in and out of her tight cunt. “Tell me the last thing you recall, love.”
Her breaths turn choppy. Her cheeks become rosy. Her eyes slide shut. “This is insane. I remember being…um, in bed with you. Then there was pain and weakness. It was horrible, like a nightmare. Then I came out of it and found you on top of me. And now we’re…um, here again.”
I brush her cheek and fill her with long, languid strokes. “As you emerged from the nightmare, what did you feel?”
“This weird…connection to you. I feel it right now. I don’t know why. It doesn’t make sense—”
“It makes perfect sense,” I assure her with a kiss. “Do you recall speaking words to me before we first shared this bed?”
She nods. “I blurted them. I don’t even know why. I don’t know what they mean. But you answered me. Then we, um…” Her dark brow furrows over those expressive, unusual eyes. “But you didn’t… Of course you didn’t. I don’t excite you.”
“You do, love.” I feel my way down her body, gratified when she unconsciously spreads her legs wider. “Aye, we fucked because of the connection brought on by those words. I took your virginity. And nay, I did not climax. But not because you failed to excite me. Because I was cursed. You are my key.”
“Is that why you kidnapped me and brought me out here?”
“Aye. From the moment I learnt we shared the dream of us naked and impassioned, of you holding Morgana’s book, I knew something was afoot. I know not why that happened. I only know I have wanted you from the moment I laid eyes upon you.” I stare into her eyes as I fuck my way deep inside her again. “And you wanted me.”
“I did.” The confession slips out as she raises her hips to meet my next stroke.
I tilt her up and drive down deeper, picking up my pace as her breaths grow choppier. “That dream led me to believe you were my enemy, so I lured you here. And I am not sorry.” I take her lips in an urgent yet lingering kiss. “I believe you are meant to end my immortal curse, but not in the way I first imagined.”
Beneath me, Olivia stiffens. “You’re still insisting that you’re immortal?”
“No insisting about it. I am.” Or I have been.
“You don’t need to make this stuff up to get laid.” She whimpers and wriggles beneath me as if the demands of her body override the indignation of her brain.
“Nor would I. Argue not while I make you come.” I pick up the lazy pace of my thrusts, settling my mouth over hers and sinking my tongue deep.
Zounds, but ’tis bloody impossible to ignore the sweetness of her kiss, the perfection of her cunt. I could fuck Olivia all day and all night and still want her more.
She meets me kiss for kiss and stroke for stroke, soon planting her feet on the mattress and gyrating up, crashing into me with every push into her wet heat.
“That’s it. Give me your passion. Fuck me in return.” I nip at her neck, inhaling her vanilla-and-floral musk.
“This is insane.” Her opinion doesn’t stop her from digging her nails into her palms or tossing her head back to expose her vulnerable throat as she moans. “Marrok…”
“Aye.” I stroke into her faster, then faster still as I grip one hip and settle my thumb over her clit. “I want your pleasure. Give it to me. Come now.”
She tightens. Tingles brew at the base of my spine. My stones draw up tight. Ecstasy flirts and coaxes. All it will take to tumble me into climax is for my magical “wife” to fall first.
I pummel her. My bed shakes with each thrust. My lungs can no longer keep up with my need for air. My legs feel boneless, and my heart thrashes wildly. But naught matters except for Olivia’s pleasure.
“Marrok!” She strains against her leather bindings as orgasm overtakes her. She bucks like an unbroken animal as I ride her to screaming completion, spilling my seed inside her again as deep as I can. As if it’s a biological imperative.
Somehow, this climax is even more intense and sublime than the last.
How deep am I falling for this woman?
Panting, I pull free from her snug clasp and roll to her side, staring at the ceiling, giving praise to whatever higher power brought about my welcome change.
“Marrok?” Olivia tugs at her restraints.
Quickly, I roll above her and untie them. “Sorry. ’Twas necessary, lest you hurt yourself more. Though you did look quite fetching bound to my bed.”
She scoffs. “Hurt myself? I wouldn’t—”
“You did.” I point out the raw scratches on her thighs.
