“I love when you let go for me,” he growls.
And that’s when Elyssara understands. Kael is not losing himself in her pleasure. He’s finding himself in it. Every gasp she gives him. Every roll of her hips. Every unguarded sound dragged from her throat. It pulls him further from the edge of the Decay and closer to the man buried beneath it. And she wants him to find more of himself.
She removes her hands from his hips, stilling her movements. She doesn’t want to come like this—alone. She wants to take him to his pleasure, too. “Let me ride your cock, my love.”
But he grips on tight. “I’m not done,” he promises, a wicked grin stretching across his face.
She huffs a laugh. “Let’s not pretend you’re in charge here,” she whispers. “Now let me take you.”
Reluctantly, his arms loosen from around her thighs. “Your humble servant,” he says drily, admitting defeat.
She smiles victoriously, pushing herself back until his cock is aligned with her entrance.
Her palm presses into his chest, and she leans forward, her face hovering over his.
“Don’t move,” she instructs. “I want to make you come.”
Then she claims his mouth, tasting herself on his lips. Claiming him with every breath.
She lowers herself onto his cock, taking the full length of him in one motion. She lets out a small gasp as she stretches around him, the sensation heady, intoxicating.
And she makes it known. “I fucking love you, Kael Thorne.”
He moans, deep and guttural and real.
Then she grinds.
She rolls her hips like she’s offering absolution with every thrust. Like healing can be found in her hips. Like pain is taken by her tongue.
Elyssara pulls away from Kael’s mouth, sitting on his cock until it fills every inch of her. She reaches for his hands, dragging them up the curve of her waist, placing them just above the swell of her ass. “Touch me, Kael.”
He doesn’t wait. He grips her ass like it holds the keys to his pain.
“You fit me so perfectly,” she moans with another roll of her hips.
Her climax builds, every nerve sparking with pleasure, every breath rising into a frenzy.
“I was fucking made for you,” Kael growls, his eyes hungry, gripping her hips in a bruising hold. And for the first time in weeks, she sees him. The real him. The man who would slay man and monster for her. The man who chooses her so completely that nothing could stand between them. The man who would not change her to save the world.
There he is.
She braces her hands on his chest, spreading her fingers across the ink etched into his skin.The Sky. It heaves. Rising and falling in time with the grind of her hips.
She gives to him.
She drags long, slow groans from his throat with every rock of her hips, taking pleasure in his.
But she wants to take him higher, deeper.
She lifts her right hand, sweeping her fingers into her mouth, and dragging them lazily across her tongue.
“Watch the way I come for you,” she purrs seductively.
A moan tears from his throat at her promise. Drunk on the power she possesses between her thighs.
She sucks her fingers, taking them deep into her mouth, before letting them drift over her swollen bottom lip, down her chin, and the slender column of her neck.
Kael watches, transfixed on her. “I am under your spell,” he confesses, the words gravelly and rich.
