More fabric give, loosening just enough to tease before I finally rip it all off, the sound a low moan from both of us, hers of surrender, mine of victory.
Her breasts spill free, heavy and full, bruised rose nipples already tight with need. My breath hitches, as I take in the sight of her, and then my mouth is on her again, hot and wet, sealing over one peaked bud with a slow, sucking kiss.
Elara cries out, her back arching off the bed, her fingers tangling in my hair as if to anchor me there. I take the invitation, teeth grazing her nipple just enough to sting, and the sharp sound that escapes her goes straight to my cock.
I drag my tongue over the mark to soothe it, then move to the other, giving it the same devotion, the same suckling claim.
Her pulse stutters against my lips, her body trembling beneath my hands like it remembers me even if her mind still doubts.
My free hand slides lower, down the curve of her ribs, over the soft press of her stomach until my palm finds the heat ofher delicious cunt waiting between her thighs. Even through the layers of silk and lace, I can feel her warmth, the answering ache that mirrors my own. I press my hand there, circle and maddening rotations, not enough to relieve, only enough to remind her what’s coming.
Her hips jerk and chase after my touch.
“So responsive,” I murmur against her skin, the words a dark caress. “Always so eager for me. Even after all this time.”
I dispose of the last of her clothing and with uncouth eagerness, watch the cool air hits her exposed, silk-smooth skin. Watch as she bites her lip, her breath coming faster as my gaze rakes over her.
“Fuck,” I breathe, my voice thick with awe. “Look at you. My sexy doom and my eternal treasure.”
She frowns up at me, breath unsteady. “Sexy?Lucien… what does that even mean?”
My gaze drags over her like a brand, dark with hunger and the remnants of fury. “It means you make me hard even when I’m furious with you,” I murmur, my voice rough as torn velvet. “It means I’m going to teach you every filthy meaning that word can hold.”
Her lips part, a tremor running through her. “Every…?”
I step closer, jaw tight, the need to take and reclaim her pounding through every vein.
“Every one you can take,” I promise. “And then the ones you can’t.”
She swallows, and something in me breaks open—hunger, memory, possession all tangling in my chest.
“Sexy…” she tests out.
Sexy.
The word tastes new on my tongue, crude and modern…and I want it becauseshesaid it.
Because her confusion made it innocent, and her breathless little tremor made it filthy.
I lean in, my mouth at her ear. “I’ll teach you a hundred variations of it. And I’ll make you repeat them all again,” I breathe, “until the sound of them ruin me.”
She’s fully bare to me now, her pussy glistening under my hungry stare, lips swollen and flushed with arousal. My fingers trace the inside of her thigh, calloused and possessive, before my palm cups her, thumb brushing over her slick folds.
She jerks at the contact with a broken sound, and my chuckle is unabashedly dark and triumphant.
“That’s it. You haven’t forgotten how to be wet for me, have you, beautiful?” I murmur, and then my mouth is on her.
Elara keens, her hips bucking up into my face as my tongue drags through her folds, slow and deliberate, as if I were savoring a fine wine. My hands grip her thighs, spreading her wider, holding her open for my feast.
The first stroke of my tongue against her clit makes her fingers claw at the furs beneath her, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Sweet Gods, Lucien—please?—”
I don’t answer, not with words.
Instead, my mouth seals over her hot pussy, my tongue working in relentless, swirling motions, lips sucking at her clit until she’s caught in savage shudders, babbling incoherently.
I glory in the sight of my Elara trembling, so fucking close to the edge that I can taste her coming undone before it happens. I drag my tongue over her, slow, deliberate, and when my fangs graze that sensitive bundle of nerves, the sting of it tips her over.
The sound she makes wrecks me.
