I try to hide a smile. “I understand.”
He begins rustling around in our pile of clothes. I think I hear the sound of my blade loosening before he crouches beside me. “Sit up.”
Frowning, I do, perching on my folded legs. “Don’t you like my idea?”
“I do, but watching your face is more than half the feast.”
Oh …
“I want that, too,” I whisper, settling into the realization that I’ll have to be patient. Wait until my teeth slide back.
He presses something into my hand.
I glance down at the empty leather sheath he gifted me for my birthday—now laid across my palm. “I’m going to need you to do something, Milaje.”
I tilt my head.
“What’s this for?” I ask, looking past tangled, iridescent waves into his fathomless eyes.
“Your mouth,” he says tenderly, and my heart thumps.
Hard.
My mouth …
“If we’re going to continue, I need you to bite the sheath so you won’t be tempted to biteme.”
I salivate over his words, my stare glazing his thick, corded neck, canines throbbing with a deep, headywantas understanding dawns.
Swallowing, I bore my attention into his eyes again. “Okay,” I whisper, handing it to him.
“Okay?”
I nod, opening my mouth.
Releasing a rumble, he brings the sheath to my lips, brushing it against my lower one before easing it between my teeth. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Now, bite.”
Holding his eye contact, I clamp down, sinking my canines into the leather stained with the smell and taste ofhim—exhaling a muffled moan when a wash of relief thrums between my legs and turns my body to butter.
My lids flutter, spine arching.
“Better?”
I nod, then chew so deep the hardy material is cushioning my canines from all angles, another mangled moan rupturing past the leather.
So much better …
He produces a dense growl and plants a kiss on my head, then drops to his knees and lifts me. My legs wrap around the back of him as he braces my arched spine with his spread hand. “Set your feet on the ground and push yourself up.”
I do, looking past my heaving breasts, down the slope of my navel, watching him rub the swollen tip of his manhood against my entrance in a trance of luscious swirls.
My hips buck, and I gasp, rocking against him. Wanting.
Needing.
So exposed, open, sensitive.
“Fuck,” he hisses, and I’ve never felt morepowerful.
