Page 280 of House Ignis

He growled, his nails digging into my skin, marking me as his own.

A shudder tore through me as he claimed my lips with predatory hunger.

I reached for him, my fingers clumsy with desperation until his trousers hit the forest floor.

He tried to pin me against the bark, but I had other plans for this game. I pushed back, my hands firm on his chest as I pivoted him, forcing his spine against the rough wood.

I didn't give him time to recover.

I dropped to my knees, the damp earth staining my skin as I looked up into his silver eyes.

Between us, his length pulsed, heavy and arrogant.

I watched the way he looked down at me, his breath hitching as I moved closer to the heat he was so desperately trying to offer.

I wrapped my fingers around him, the heat of his skin searing my palm. I didn't look away, holding his gaze even as his jaw ticked with a frantic, suppressed need for control.

He wanted to lead, but gods—so did I.

I trailed my tongue from the base to the tip, savoring the salt and the heat of him, before sliding him into my mouth.

I watched, mesmerized, as his eyes blew wide before his lids fluttered shut.

A low, broken moan tore from his throat, his head falling back against the bark as his muscles turned to corded steel.

He was magnificent like this—undone, at my mercy, and drowning in the sensation I was giving him.

I moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, the taste of him mixing with the lingering copper of my own blood.

It was a dark, intoxicating cocktail that made my magic thrum in my veins.

I moved faster, desperate to hear that low, animalistic growl break from his throat.

In one swift, brutal motion, his magic claimed me.

Heavy, shadow-wrought bands coiled around my limbs, and a thick collar of darkness wrapped firmly around my throat.

I was yanked upward, the world blurring until I was pinned against the tree.

The rough bark bit into my shoulders, a sharp contrast to the cool, ethereal weight of the shadows holding me captive.

I arched against the timber, breathless and exposed, as Asher stepped into the space between my dangling feet.

Asher was a mess of sweat and desperation.

“Firecracker,” he panted, his forehead dropping against my stomach for a fleeting second.

“Tell me I’m the first. Tell me no one has ever made your blood burn like this.”

The shadows at my neck tightened slightly, a dark, pulsing reminder of his claim. He didn't wait for the answer before he dropped to the mossy earth. He draped my leg over his shoulder, his eyes burning with a silver fire as he looked up at me.

I came undone.

The sheer commanding presence of him, even while kneeling, was enough to shatter me.

As he leaned in, his tongue catching my clit with punishing precision, I screamed his name into the night.

“Only you,” I breathed, my fingers knotting in his dark hair.