Page 93 of The Stolen Crown

No. This would not be a nightmare.

I sloughed off my trousers and took my length in hand. A true grin replaced the prickle of unease.

She said I was worth the wait, but really, it was she who was worth everything.

28

The Illusionist

Tait held my gaze, his length in hand. “Should I continue?”

He needed to hear it. After learning his truth, I understood it, the desire to never take a choice from someone else.

“Yes, gods, please.”

“I want you screaming my name.” His eyes burned like dying embers. “I want your marks left behind tomorrow, am I clear?”

By the gods. Gone was the man who avoided my body. No mistake, I took note of the small grimaces, the few shudders, but what overpowered him now was a dark gleam of desire, dominance, and passion. I could not look away, could not give more words than a simple, jerky nod.

“Good.” Tait nudged his hips forward until the crown of his length slipped into my entrance. “Spread these beautiful legs for me.”

My skin was set aflame. Another buck and he slid in a little more. Tait ran his tongue over the top of his bottom lip. Any moment, my heart would surely pound through my chest. I reclined onto my elbows. The heat of release already began gathering in my lower belly all over again.

Tait dropped his head to my shoulder, then in one rough thrust, he filled me from tip to hilt. I sucked in a sharp gasp. I nearly choked on my tongue. His cock was hard and long. The stretch bordered on painful pleasure, and I wasn’t certain I’d ever get enough.

A breathy moan slipped from Tait’s lips. “You feel…”

I braced, waiting to hear it was too much, too overwhelming, too horrid.

“…perfect,” Tait said through a kiss to my throat. He bucked his hips once, twice. “Damn the hells, you’re perfect, Mira.”

Tait lifted one palm and tugged down my chemise. Cool night air brushed over my exposed breasts. I arched my spine, the urge to have more of this man’s mouth on me was damn near insatiable. As though reading my mind, Tait dropped his head and took my puckered nipple between his lips. His tongue swirled around the tip, and his teeth tugged until I cried out.

All at once, Tait gripped one of my wrists and placed my palm against his chest. “How am I supposed to get those marks if these hands are not on me?”

Hells, he ought to be careful for what he wishes, I thought as his hips kept snapping against mine. My fingernails dug into his shoulders. My head whirled in a wave of pleasure. I could not draw in a deep enough breath.

Tait rolled his hips and drove deeper inside. On instinct, I wrapped my legs around his lower back, my arms around his shoulders. If he kept moving this way, those marks he craved would be much more; I’d likely draw blood.

“Now”—Tait grunted through a thrust—“those screams. I need…those screams from…your mouth.”

“T-T-Tait.” I could hardly think enough to even speak a name.

A new sort of heat burned in his gaze, a sort of wickedness. Tait pulled out. I let out a rough pant of surprise, ready to ensure he was not falling into darker thoughts, but had no time before he flipped me over onto my belly.

Tait leaned his mouth next to my ear. “That was not even nearly loud enough, Vicious. Let’s try again.”

“Gods. Who are you?”

“Too much?” He paused.

“No. Bleeding hells, Hearttalker, never stop.”

He chuckled, and those beautiful, powerful hands gripped my hips and urged me to rise to my knees. Tait took his cock back in hand and brushed the crown along my slit. “All right?”

“Tait.” I lowered onto my elbows, brow on the soft earth. “If you want screams, then you damn well better make me scream.”

In the next breath, Tait gripped my hair, urged my head back, curled one palm around my throat, and squeezed lightly. A gasp of stun slipped over my tongue. The pressure, the grip, the passion of his hold, I’d not…I’d not expected it, but a rush of heated pleasure coursed through my core.