“Please don’t ruin this,” she begs, and she’s not entirely sure what she means.
He nods, somehow hearing the words she didn’t say.
“Then get on your hands and knees,” he instructs.
Thank the fucking Stars.
She does as he bids, knees pressing into the furs, fingers finding purchase there too.
Ronyn drops to his knees behind her, spreading her legs further apart, and smoothing his hands over the curve of her hips.
He leans forward, and she takes some of the weight of him in her arms.
He sweeps her hair over her shoulder, brushing it from her neck with tenderness and patience that the tossed clothes contradict.
His lips find the nape of her neck. Her spine. And they blaze a trail of kisses down the length of it. His breath is warm against her skin, roughened slightly by brask and laughter and something unmistakably Ronyn.
His hands worship her like she’s prayer made flesh. His palms are rough from bows and battle and survival, and the scrape of them against her skin sends heat racing through her body.
He opens his mouth to say something, but snaps it shut, rethinking whatever he was about to say.
She prepares to take him into her, pressing her hips back, when the soft, languid strokes of his tongue find her pussy from behind.
Shock flares in her veins, her muscles going rigid.
“I saidIwas warmed up, Jaxxy. This isyourwarm up,” he clarifies, and his mouth finds the entrance to her pussy again.
He devours her like a man starved. Like a man who’s been trying to make love to her like this for months. A man who is finally able to pleasure her in the way he promised he would.
The scrape of stubble against the sensitive flesh of her thighs sends another pulse of heat through her body.
His hands find her ass, his grip firm as he spreads her wide.
Her muscles relax, and she sinks into him.
A deep, low moan rumbles from his throat. “I love seeing you relax,” he breathes.
His tongue glides from clit to entrance, and a breathy pant slips past her lips. He does it again like her response spurs him on. The sound of him—low groans and wet breaths and restrained hunger—vibrates straight through her.
She pushes back against his mouth, desperate for friction. For more. Forhim.
He glides his tongue through her center again and keeps going. He nips the swell of her ass, and she sucks in a sharp inhale, but she pushes back.
His tongue sweeps between her cheeks, and nerves fire in a surge of pleasure. A moan drags from her lips, and he does it again. Again. Again.
Her knees spread further, her back arches like the movement will give her more of him. And gods, there is something intoxicating in being allowed to unravel while someone else keeps holding everything together.
His hand collides with her ass, and he grips it. “Are you ready now?”
She nods her agreement, words escaping her.
His cock nudges against her entrance.
“I love how wet you get for me, Jaxxy,” he says, rough and gravelly.
She doesn’t say anything, only pushes her ass back into him. A small groan escapes him at the movement. He grips his cock, guiding it into her.
Gods.
