Page 168 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

Kit’s teeth closed around my nipple again—not gentle this time, but a deliberate bite. His other hand found my neglected nipple, fingers pinching and rolling until I was writhing beneath him, broken sounds spilling from my lips.

Pain alchemised into something that made me arch off the rug like I’d been struck by lightning, my hips grinding up against him without permission from my brain. My cock strained against my jeans, denim turned to sandpaper against overheated skin.

“Please,” I gasped, hands fisting in his hair. “Please touch me.”

Kit’s mouth curved against my chest, still worrying my nipple with his teeth. “I am touching you.”

His hand traced a slow descent down my body, fingertips painting invisible fire across my skin until my muscles jumped and clenched. The bastard knew what he was doing.

“My dick,” I groaned, bucking my hips up in desperation. “Touch my—”

The words died as Kit stripped my jeans and underwear away with movements so fluid they seemed choreographed. Then his fingers—calloused and burning and perfect—wrapped around my cock.

Relief detonated through me. My vision fractured into white static as his thumb swept across the head, spreading the slick gathered there until every stroke became silk.

Then Kit’s mouth descended, and my world ended.

Hot, wet heat enveloped my cock as he took me to the back of his throat in one devastating swallow. The muscles there contracted around me, light exploding behind my eyelids.

His hand found my nipple again, pinching and rolling the sensitive peak while his mouth worked me with ruthless precision. The dual assault—wet silk around my cock and sharp pleasure at my chest—created a circuit that had me hurtling towards oblivion.

Through the bond, Kit’s hunger crashed into me in waves. The taste of salt and skin on his tongue. The way he loved the taste of me, loved me falling apart beneath him.

The wet heat. The suction. The way he hummed around me.

My hands scrabbled for purchase against the rug, fisting in the thick fibres as waves of bliss crashed over me. The fire crackled somewhere in the distance, but all I could focus on was the devastating rhythm of Kit’s mouth, the way he seemed to know exactly how to unravel me.

The pressure built and built, coiling tight in my belly like a spring wound past its breaking point—

I came without warning, spilling down Kit’s throat with a loud cry that echoed off the wooden walls. He swallowed everything I gave him, tongue working against my sensitive flesh until aftershocks racked my entire body.

“Sorry,” I gasped when I finally found my voice again. “I— I couldn’t—”

Kit pulled off my cock with an obscene pop, licking his lips like he’d just enjoyed the world’s best meal.

“What are you sorry for? Now I’ll just have to work harder to make you come again.”

The words sent a shiver of sparkles through the bond connecting us, his anticipation mixing with mine until I couldn’t tell where his arousal ended and mine began.

“Which, as you know, is my greatest joy,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my hipbone.

Kit slid a finger into his mouth, coating it thoroughly before his hand disappeared between my legs. The first touch against my crease made me jolt.

Something shifted. A sudden tug on the bond, like someone had yanked a rope attached to my soul. An overwhelming urge crashed through me—not just want, but need. Primal and desperate and absolutely undeniable.

I needed Kit inside me. Now.

“Please,” I begged, the word tearing from my throat with an urgency that surprised us both. “Kit, please— I need you. I need you now.”

Kit’s finger stilled against me, his eyes snapping up to meet mine. Whatever he saw there made his pupils blow wide.

“Stay here,” he commanded, and then he was gone.

But not really gone. Because I could feel him. Feel him moving through the chalet, his footsteps quick and purposeful as he headed towards the bathroom. It was like magic—this awareness of exactly where he was even when I couldn’t see him.

The moment Kit stepped back through the doorway, something inside me clicked into place. A circuit completing itself, a lock finding its key. The restless energy that had been crawling beneath my skin melted into warm honey.

“We’re lucky the fancy bathroom has fancy massage oil,” he said, holding up something tiny in his palm.