I’d touched myself before.
Of course I had.
I was a thirty-year old woman, not some sheltered maiden locked in a tower.
But this? This was something else entirely.
Something primal.
It felt less like pleasure and more like being unraveled molecule by molecule beneath him.
Like my body had spent years asleep and Sten had somehow awakened every nerve ending at once.
Heat coiled tighter inside me.
The pleasure building was so much greater than before.
My thighs trembled violently around his hips while the pressure inside my stomach built and built and built until I genuinely thought I might break apart from it.
I couldn’t stop it.
Couldn’t control it.
All I could do was hold onto him while he guided me through it.
So I did.
I clung to his broad shoulders desperately, nails scraping over heated blue skin while his cock drove into me harder and deeper with every thrust.
“That’s it, Luna,” he growled roughly against my throat. “Come for me. Come one more time.”
The command alone nearly sent me over the edge.
“Come all over my cock.”
His thrusts had lost rhythm now, becoming rougher, more desperate.
Like he was struggling to hold himself together too.
The realization hit me hard.
I was affecting him.
Me.
Not some elegant celestial beauty or powerful Witch heiress from a prestigious line.
Me.
Soft anxious Amrin Cordoza with the unfinished magic and self-esteem issues.
Sten wanted me badly enough to lose control.
The thought wrecked me completely.
Then I felt it.
One of those slick little appendages pressing teasingly against my back entrance, stroking carefully past the first tight ring.
