Page 169 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

“Great,” I said too quickly, my voice pitched high. “Now come back here.”

I needed his weight crushing me again. Needed to feel anchored by his presence before I floated away entirely.

Kit crossed the room in three quick strides, settling between my legs with eyes that devoured me whole. The bottle opened with a soft pop, and then cool liquid touched my overheated skin.

My pulse thundered as Kit’s slick fingers circled my entrance. I grabbed his wrist, urging his hand inside me.

“I need you to hurry this time.”

Kit’s hand stilled. “But—”

“I’ll die if you don’t!”

Kit froze, stormy eyes studying my face with an intensity that made me squirm. Then, slowly, one eyebrow rose in that way that meant trouble.

“I think you’re being a little melodramatic, princess.”

The endearment liquified my spine.

“Well,” I managed, holding his gaze despite the fire consuming my face. “Maybe you need to punish me, then.”

Kit’s eyebrow climbed higher, and his finger drove inside me without warning.

I gasped at the stretch, my body clenching around the intrusion. He worked his finger in and out, each withdrawal leaving me empty and aching before he filled me again.

Before I could process the stretch, a second finger forced its way in alongside the first.

“Like this?” His voice was velvet wrapped around a blade.

“Y-yes!” The burn carved through me, but I pushed back anyway, demanding more. The pain was nothing against the void threatening to consume me from the inside out.

His fingers scissored, splitting me wider, and then he found that spot that made my cock jerk against my stomach like a live wire.

“Now!” The word ripped from somewhere primal.

Kit’s fingers vanished so suddenly I nearly wailed from the emptiness. The slick sound of him stroking himself was my only comfort.

“Please!”

He hauled my legs over his shoulders and drove himself inside.

The sound that erupted from me could have shattered glass. It ricocheted off the wooden walls as he forced his way deeper, inch by relentless inch, until he buried himself completely. My body sang around him, every cell recognizing its other half.

Completeness crashed through me like a dam bursting. The manic energy that had clawed at my insides dissolved, replaced by bone-deep satisfaction. My breathing found its rhythm, no longer desperate gulps but something steady and sure.

“That’s it,” Kit murmured, one hand stroking my face with infinite tenderness. “I’ve got you.”

He began to move—tentative shifts that became deliberate rolls. Then the rhythm built into something fierce, driving thrusts that dragged my spine against the rug’s thick weave.

Heat poured off our bodies, rivalling the fire’s glow. Sweat turned our skin to silk where we connected, salt blooming on my tongue when I reached up to kiss his throat.

“So perfect,” Kit groaned against my ear. “So tight. You were made for me.”

When I moaned obscenely, he angled his hips, finding the place that unravelled me. My hands scrabbled for purchase against his shoulders, nails digging deeply into muscle.

“I’m going to make you so happy,” he vowed, words branding my neck. “Going to worship you every day of our lives.”

The words sent warmth flooding through my chest, because he already had. Kit had already made me the happiest I’d ever been in my entire existence. Had given me something I’d never even really understood enough to hope for.