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It was a big piece that took up his entire back left shoulder. The shield had a large tree across it, the roots thick and deep. The supporters were giant red feathers that matched the phoenix crest on top. The Mallick name was in bold font beneath. Above the phoenix’s head was the family motto: Vis nescia vinci.

“Vis necia vinci,” I said, not even aware I was going to until it was out of my mouth.

“A power ignorant of defeat,” Shane supplied, not so much as hesitating as he just chop, chop, chopped away.

“What are you making?” I asked, feeling my stomach start to grumble.

“Stew. One of the easiest things not to fuck up,” he informed me.

“What can I do to help?” I asked.

“Sit there and keep me company,” he said again with a shrug.

With that, we fell into a silence that seemed oddly companionable to the sound of the wind gusting and the rain pelting the windows and the far off, but not too far off, sounds of sirens and car alarms.

I hadn’t even been aware that Shane had finished chopping or that he had moved until I felt his stomach press into my knees. My head snapped up as he kept pressing to the point where I was either going to seriously hurt his very nice abs or open my legs around him. I chose the latter and the material of his pants rubbed intimately against my inner thighs. “What are you doing?”

His lips quirked up at one side and his hands slowly slid up my inner thighs before sinking into my hipbones.

“What are you doing?” I repeated, already knowing the answer, but trying to at least attempt to pretend like I wasn’t dying for it too.

“Well, not much to do with the power out,” he said with a wicked smirk as one of his hands slid to the center of my belly and moved a path upward until it planted between my breasts with firm pressure, pushing me backward until I was flat against the counter. The second I was, his body curled over mine and I expected him to kiss me, but his head ducked at the last moment and his mouth closed around my nipple through the material of the tee, sucking hard and making me arch up into the sensation on a throaty moan. His tongue moved out, circling the hardening bud and soaking the material. My thighs clamped around the sides of his body and his teeth bit into my nipple hard, making me both yelp and groan somehow simultaneously. His head moved across my chest to give my other nipple the same attentive torment.

He released me a second later and I had no idea what he intended, his fingers moving lazily up and down my thighs. But then his body shifted and his tongue was sliding unexpectedly up my slit and claiming my clit, rolling his tongue over it, making my entire body do a hard shiver. “Oh my God,” I groaned, my hand slamming down on the back of his neck, sifting into his soft hair, holding him against me.

See, Shane was good for a fuck. But if there was one thing I had learned in life, it was that most guys could fuck. Many guys could by sheer fumbling accident make you come from oral, but it was a rare breed of man who was truly skilled at it. Shane, yeah, he was in a league his own. His tongue teased in circles, then switched to side-to-side strokes. And just when I was sure I would come, he pulled back, running his tongue downward and pulsed it against the opening to my body before moving back up again and sucking on my clit hard enough to drag out what could only be called a scream. He pulled back, not allowing the orgasm, as his hands went under my knees and coaxed my legs over his shoulders. Then I felt them sinking into my hips, hard, almost bruising.

A second later, I understood why, because he started moving. Which meant that I started moving too. His fingers moved to cross over my lower back as it left the counter, holding me tight to him as he took his feet.

He. Took. His. Feet.

Meaning he had me sitting on his shoulders while his face was still buried in my pussy, his tongue still moving over me effortlessly as he started moving through his kitchen. Even with his arms as an anchor, I felt unsteady, leaning slightly over his head, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck.

My back slammed against a wall and Shane’s hands left my back to hold me under my thighs, the wall and his strength giving me all the security I needed as I released his neck, holding him gently by the head as he drove me higher, intensified by the unique position, by his strength, by his improvisation.

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