She’d thought his eyes were molten before.
Fi cried out as he pitched her, a traitorous gasp as he pulled down her pants—as he ran his tongue between her legs, that slow and covetous motion that had nearly ruined her earlier. Nearly ruined her now. As he sucked every slick and needy pieceof her, a desperate sound escaped her lips, aching to concede.
She rallied for one last push. Fi twisted her hip free of his wicked mouth, seeking to snare a leg around him.
He pounced too quickly, pinning her arms above her head. Antal hovered over her, both their breaths greedy, a finality to their game.
A burning question in his eyes.
“Yes,” Fi gasped.
She nearly perished in the seconds he took to remove his trousers. When his hard cock brushed her thigh, Fi tipped impatient hips up to take him, to sate the anguish aching between her legs.
His thrust sent her falling.
Fi arced off the bed, desperate to feel all of him as he sank into her. They came together as wrought iron. Muscles tensed and her fingers carving the unyielding slopes of his shoulders.
As he moved, she softened. She melted into the clasp of his arms, breath falling to shallower pants with each thrust. This seemed to be what he wanted, a growl rumbling his chest as he buried fingers into her hair, wound a hand beneath her back to angle her against him.
This wasn’t like last time. That desperate, quick thing that had flared between them.
Not that Fi wasn’t desperate now. But she wanted to feel him, to revel in each stroke he carved inside her, even as she longed for the finish. She surrendered with legs wrapped around his waist, climbing to a peak that had her clawing his back.
He bit down on her throat, pinning her to the bed as he pushed her over the edge.
Fi did scream. Their pact satisfied.
Again, when he refused to yield, working her to a secondclimax that left her throat raw, every muscle hot and spent and shattering as he held her.
Yet even as the waves of her pleasure ebbed, even as Antal finished inside her with a shuddering thrust of his own, claws snared into her sheets and a fractured exhale shaped like her name, he didn’t pull away like before.
Neither did Fi. Swathed in sweat and moonbeams, their breaths a warring tempo in the aftermath, she held him to her in the warmth of her bed.
Unwilling to let go.
34
Better than the rafters
Fi woke to sweet ozone in her nose. Coating her skin.
She shifted, groggy muscles reaching for a pleased stretch. Her naked body was draped in pre-dawn light, a mess of fur blankets, and something else, a warm weight she wasn’t used to. Antal lay atop her like a panther possessive of his quarry: his arm and head pillowed on her chest, leg wrapping her waist, tail curled around one ankle.
The Plane’s fiercest predator looked surprisingly docile as he slept, his breaths deep, claws light against Fi’s side. And how had she never pieced it together? He slept on his stomach to avoid bumping his antlers. The revelation made her chuckle.
At her stirring, the daeyari woke. A sigh rumbled through him as he rolled the muscles of his shoulders. His head tilted, hooking her with one eye of drowsy, half-lidded crimson.
“I thought you preferred the rafters?” Fi said.
His gaze narrowed, a lazy drift across her dawn-lit face, swirls of bed-mussed hair, the swell of her breasts beneath him.
“This is acceptable,” he mumbled.
As temperamental as a house cat. Fi tried to move, but claws tightened on her waist, holding her to the bed. He shifted against her, brushing his nose along her neck. Heat kindled up her thighs. Not sharp like the night before, but deep, lulling.
“Stay,” he entreated, the word warm and heavy with sleep.
“Can’t say you struck me as the cuddly type,” she teased.
