Page 52 of For the Ghastly and Beautiful

“And you missed me.” He states this like it’s a fact.

“Yes…” I drawl, wondering where his mind is at. “What are you—”

He silences my question with a kiss. His hand wraps around the back of my neck as his thumb strokes the tender spot beneath my ear. When he drags me closer, the fingers of his other hand dip under the edges of my clothes, teasing the exposed skin of my midriff.

His control snaps as he rips the jeweled buttons off my shorts. They clatter against the stone basin while he tears through the lacing that holds my bodice together.

I stand naked before him. The hard length of his erection presses into my stomach as he wraps his arm around my waist. He lifts me with ease as he steps out of the basin, his grip unwavering as he opens the front of his soaked pants. I hear wet fabric hit the floor seconds before my back meets the cool stone wall.

His lips trail from my mouth down my neck as he pushes me higher to kiss across my chest. As he lowers me, he lines himself up. I sink onto his shaft, hissing through the stretch. The intrusion is welcome, but a little warning would have been lovely. I nearly implode at the sheer perfection of his motions.

The tension between us has been building since I met him, and I completely forget my complaint as he rolls his hips again. It’s easy to overlook when he isn’t inside me. But now that he is… The sweet torture feels as endless as the ocean’s horizon. His thrusts are spontaneous, never letting me adjust to one speed or depth before he changes again.

An orgasm blows through me so rapidly, so painfully pleasurable, that my moan turns into a whimpered version of his name.

He pulls me away from the wall, his grip on my ass growing tighter. And he drops to his knees on the floor, spreading me before him. His gaze travels across my body, drinking in the sight as a dashing smirk curves his lips.

Either Eros blessed this Mongrel, or he’s Spiran’s version of an incubus. I don’t care which.

He lifts my hips, eyes trained on mine as his tongue glides along my slit, tasting and teasing. Pure desire burns in his darkened irises, his wanton need once more throwing me over the cliff’s edge.

I take only a moment to catch my breath before I wiggle away from his torment. As he lets me go, I shove at his chest, pushing him backward so he’s the one on his back. Then I slide atop him, sinking down his shaft until my thighs meet his hips.

His gaze doesn’t leave mine as he soaks in my reactions. This is the second time today that he’s studied me as his irises fade back to his usual shade. But I push the errant thought aside as I focus.

I didn’t get my feet under me, so I scrub my knees across the floor as I rise and fall. He grips my hips, adding strength to my movements as I chase another release.

My muscles scream as my core clenches. All too quickly, my walls flutter, causing Connak to groan and cum with me.

We stay on the floor, silent as we settle down. I keep the side of my face pressed against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

After basking in the moment, I slide off him,

“Now we both need a shower.” He chuckles. “Then we can go see Imy.”

I snort. “You’re not injured anymore.”

He sits up and turns to show me the top of his shoulders. I didn’t realize I’d scratched him, much less so deeply that blood had welled to the surface. It’s smeared across his skin in light pink streaks surrounding the red claw marks from my nails.

“I think I am.”

“You’ll heal.”

“Until you do it again. Spiran only knows what kind of animal you are.” He grins as climbs to his feet and pulls me with him. “I’ll be sliced to shreds, and Imy will have no choice but to stitch me up.”

I roll my eyes. “You go see the good doctor and tell him you need attention. I’m going to bathe and take a nap.”

“Mmm, a nap sounds perfect. I haven’t slept in days.” He yawns as he leans against my back.

Water falls from the shower head of its own accord, and I grin to myself as I halfheartedly rinse the sweat and blood from my body. When I turn, Connak drags me against his chest and kisses quickly. Then he steps out of the basin and grabs a towel.

“You have to stop coming on to me like that. I’m an exhausted Mongrel in need of sleep.” He smiles as he mumbles, “And they call me an animal.”

I laugh as I dry off, shaking my head at him. He follows me to his bed, sliding under the blanket and wrapping around me. Sleep tugs at my consciousness while I think through the day’s events. Everything is a blur, though one thing remains clear.

Connak is too much, but he’s been too much since I met him.

And I hope that never changes.