My voice was foreign to my own ears, breathy, dark and desperate. Caelan didn’t answer right away; his hands roamedthe backs of my thighs, and when his fingers finally met the bare skin above my stockings my thighs widened of their own accord. The way he dropped his head to my shoulder was so pained I found myself consciously slowing my breath so as not to unsettle him.
“If I don’twantthis?” The words sounded like they’d been dragged out of him, forced through breathless lungs. “Rosie, I am fucking made of want.”
He took the sleeve of my bodice between his teeth and dragged it slowly down to bare a shoulder, the uppermost swell of one breast, kissing and tasting as he went. I swallowed the moan that rose up my throat, but my magic was rising in me like a stormy ocean of flame, great waves of it crashing into my bones with every beat of my thundering heart, the same blazing pulse throbbing in my core as liquid heat pooled between my thighs.
“Caelan.”
“Can I touch you?Gods, I want to fucking touch you.”
My mind had melted and all that was left was sensation; molten magic running unchecked in my blood, waves of heat licking at my insides, Caelan and his hands and his mouth and —
I want to fucking touch you.
I nodded fervently, and his fingers on my leg flexed, barely brushing the lowest curve of my backside. Still he didn’t move.
“Say it.”
I didn’t hesitate.
“Touch me.”
A wordless groan shuddered out of him and his hands were almost clumsy in his haste, so fast at first, then slower, like his control had lapsed the moment I spoke the words he wanted to hear. He kneaded my bare hip in one palm, the other skating up the inside of my leg until his fingers traced the inner seam of my thigh, teased at the edge of the thin fabric that clung to my skin, so slick with my own arousal it turned the blush in my cheeks to a painful burn.
Ileaned in to him, trying to hide my blush in a kiss, but he drew back. His grin was sharp-edged, if a little breathless; wicked and knowing.
“I don’t think so, love.”
I scowled at him, and his grin went impossibly sharper, scar stretching taut. He trailed one finger over the soaked front of my undergarment, tracing the shape of me through the cloth until I was whimpering pitifully.
“Since we’ve established no-one can hear us,” he said softly, “I want every sound for my own. I want to know if you’re going to moan for me. Beg me. If your breath speeds up when you’re getting close. What it sounds like when you come.”
I made a soft, breathy,completelyunfamiliar noise and Caelan gave a dark chuckle right in my ear.
“There we go.”
And as though I’d answered a question, he promptly slipped beneath the band of my undergarment and slid two fingers slowly down my slick, aching centre. His touch was so unexpected, such delicious relief that my body arched against him and he had to grab my hip to keep me from falling off the shelf.
“So perfect,” he said, on broken breath. “So gods-damnedwet.”
I didn’t know which of us was panting like that. My Flame was rampant, the roar of it so loud in my ears it was hard to focus on the gruff, coaxing words Caelan was murmuring as he explored me.Yes,andThat’s it, andGods, Rosie.His fingers traced and teased, eyes heavy lidded but fixed determinedly on my face as he pored over my every gasp and sigh, cataloguing them until he found a rhythm that drew a pleading moan from so deep in my chest it dragged out another burst of Flame alongside it. His grin flickered in the sudden burst of light, and he pressed his face into the crook of my neck so I could feel the shape of it against my skin before he kissed my throat.
“Like this?”
I wanted to tell him how adorably pleased he sounded with himself, but that’s not what came out.
“Like that. More. Ohgods, don’t stop.”
His snarl of satisfaction made me shiver head to toe, despite the renewed heat of my Flame, glowing brighter in every nerve ending the more he touched me. The hot fluttering low in my belly was growing almost forceful, my core desperately tightening around something that wasn’t even there.
“I need–” My breath failed as another wave overwhelmed my core, and I tried again. “Oh gods, I want –”
I grabbed his wrist and tried to guide him down, but he wouldn’t have it.
“Tell me,” he said roughly, still stroking and teasing even as he resisted my grip. “Want to hear it.”
He didn’t let up that perfect rhythm or pressure, so it seemed entirely unfair that he expected me to string words together. I tried anyway, swallowing and gasping, making several attempts before I finally managed to whine; “I need you inside me. Please.Please.”
“Fuck.”
