Page 71 of Birthright

The silence stretched. His mouth moved to the inside of my thigh and stopped. Hot breath teasing.

“I want your mouth on me.” It came out in a rush. “Lower. I want your mouth on my clit.”

“Good girl.” Oh fuck. The words melted me. And he gave me exactly that. He settled himself between my legs and teased me with kisses, nips, and licks along my inner thighs before parting me with thick, battle-scarred fingers and working that talented tongue exactly where I’d asked. I was amazed at the precision of his movements. His tongue flicked in firm, quick strokes. My toes curled, my heart was about to beat out of my chest. The room spun. He groaned against me, pressing harder and slipping one of those long fingers inside me. That was all it took.

I shattered into a wonderfully painful orgasm. Weeks of denial fractured in a moment of perfect pleasure. My magic reached for his, responded to it and his emotions. I felt his pleasure mingled with mine. My muscles tightened, my back arched, his name breaking apart on my lips. It swept over me and brought a grunt of pleasure from him. He got up on his knees and I pulled my legs around him.

He hesitated only slightly to take a good look at me as I was splayed in front of him. He held himself at my entrance, swirled slowly over my clit several times, then surged just slightly inside me.

“Yes.” I breathed and tried to push against him to end the slow torture. I had imagined this, imagined him even when I was trying not to. I didn’t want slow and gentle right now. I wanted him to take. I wiggled and tried to press myself over the full length of him. He held my hips tightly so I couldn’t. Deliberate in his movement, he was neither rushing nor intentionally teasing. “Not yet. Let it come to us slowly. Let it build.”

The intense feeling of him stretching me so slowly brought another wave of pleasure flowing over me, my muscles fluttering around just the tip as he held himself still. He growled as he felt me tighten and obviously could stand the pleasurable torture no longer. He thrust hard and deep. His fingers dug into my hips as he pushed his way in so deeply I needed to pull back, do it again and again, but he started the withdrawal painfully slowly.

I wiggled again to encourage him to move faster. “Jordan.” My own impatience was driving me insane. His eyes were watching my reactions, the muscles of his arms and stomach tensing to control how much I could move.

Several more times he thrust in and out, so slowly I was whimpering. Then he stopped entirely. I could feel my own pulse where we were joined.

“What do you want, Keena, Priestess of the Wild?”

“You know what I want.” I could barely breathe. “You’re in my head. You already know.”

“I do.” He shifted his weight just enough that I felt it everywhere and nowhere near enough. “I want to hear you say it anyway.”

“Please—”

“That’s not what I asked.” His voice was low, unhurried, completely unmoved by my desperation. “Tell me what you want me to do to you. Specifically.”

Heat flooded my face even as my body screamed at me. He waited.

“I want you to fuck me.” The words tore loose. “Hard. Stop holding back.”

He tilted his head, still not moving. “That all?”

“I want—” I pressed my lips together. Tried again. “I want you to take control. Completely. I’ve thought about it. You already know I have.” The admission came from somewhere I hadn’t known existed. “I’ve spent my entire life being in charge of everything. I just—for once—I want to hand it over. To you.” My voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I want you to ruin me, Jordan.”

Something broke open in his expression. The patience dissolved entirely. “There it is.” His voice dropped to something I felt more than heard. “That’s what I was waiting for.”

He moved. Finally. Fully.

He responded with a relentless pace, relinquishing his grip on my hips so I could mirror his rhythm. My hips arched to meet him, forcing us closer together and pulling another deep growl from him.

“You thought about this room,” he said, his voice rough at the edges now. “Right here, after we sparred. Don’t bother denying it. I felt it on you.”

I moaned instead of answering.

“Tell me what you saw.” His pace slowed again, a punishment disguised as patience.

“You.” The word scraped out of me. “You had me against the wall. You didn’t ask. You just—took.” I felt the heat of saying it out loud burn through my whole chest. “And I wanted you to. I’ve never wanted anything like that in my life. I always have to be in control. Always.” Another thrust and I lost the thread of it. “But not with you. Not right now.”

“Not right now,” he agreed, and the growl in his voice was the most satisfying thing I had ever heard. “Right now, the only thing I want from that mouth is your voice telling me how good it feels.” He slowed again. Almost to a stop, almost pulled all the way out.

“So good.” It came out broken. “Fuucck, Jordan, don’t stop—harder⁠—”

We were fucking like teenagers in the high school gym with the teacher just outside the door. The smells of the gym, the echo of my moans, and his growls in the big empty room all made me feel like I was doing something wicked, dirty. Bad girl was never my thing. That required losing control, and I had never allowed that. But with him, I could feel his power, his innate need to take me and protect me, to shield me from whatever danger presented itself. Telling him what I wanted only made it hotter. Saying it out loud, hearing my own voice ask for it, was something I hadn’t expected. Something I hadn’t known I needed.

I gripped his arms and arched into him. I was getting close to another orgasm when he lowered himself so he could kiss me again. His mouth trailed from my lips to my breasts, and he slid out of me. I whimpered and wiggled to try to maneuver us back together. He gave a small, satisfied chuckle. He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard enough to pull half my breast between his lips. His tongue made lazy circles as he rubbed himself against my thigh, teasing me deliberately.

“Jordan.” I was past shame. Past pride. “I want you inside me. Please, I can’t stand it.”