Page 91 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

Then he rolled us, pinning me beneath him as his mouth found my throat, his hands burning hot against my skin. And I let him claim me, silencing the storm inside me with his devotion, his desperation, his love.

Because I knew—if it ever came down to a choice…

Neither of us would survive it.

“August,” I panted. I meant it to be a reprimand, but it came out a plea—and like the damn deity he was, he smiled against my skin. Breathless and accusatory, I managed, “You’re a beautiful distraction.”

“Is it working?”

“Maybe...but we—should talk,” I said, voice dissolving into a breathy whimper as I rapidly forgot why that mattered. His mouth, his hands—he wasn’t just touching me; he was unmaking me. The bastard chuckled, wicked and unrepentant.

“You’re mine, Ally. You’re not going anywhere I can’t follow.” With that promise, he closed his mouth around my breast again, his grip tightening around my throat—not harsh, but commanding, claiming. And then his other hand slid down my torso, slipping beneath my silk shorts, and that was it. My surrender wasn’t conscious—it was instinct.

In seconds, he had his fingers working my clit, coaxing me into writhing beneath him as he lapped at my breast like a man starved.

“August,” I breathed again. He hummed in approval, his grip tightening on my neck just enough to make me dizzy with need. I dropped my head to the pillow in wordless surrender, letting my legs fall open as he dipped lower, spreading my slick arousal over my entrance before easing a finger inside me.

Pleasure speared through me, hot and immediate, and I arched into him, silently begging for more. August took his time, readying me with those precise strokes, and only when I began to rock against his hand did he release my throat, his palm sliding down to tweak a nipple before shimmying out of his low-slung sweats.

My mouth watered the moment his cock sprang free—long, hard, and already glistening.

“Mine,” I whispered, wrapping my hand around his thick length and bringing him to my lips. His breath caught, then released in a choked sound as I traced his tip with my tongue. Our eyes locked—his gaze emerald fire as I slid him into my mouth, slowly, savoring the taste, the feel, the weight of him.

I took him deeper, swallowing past the urge to gag, loving the way he groaned—deep and guttural—like I was dragging it from his soul. His fingers tangled in my hair, not demanding but reverent, encouraging me with each stroke of his thumb against my temple.

“Baby,” he rasped, his voice a prayer. Every moan, every shiver that rippled through him sent heat coiling low in my belly. I pressed my thighs together, desperate to ease the ache.

But the sound that escaped me—muffled and needy—snapped something in August.

His eyes flew open, burning with possessive hunger. One hand slid to my jaw, tilting my head as the other swept my hair behind my shoulder.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he breathed, gaze flicking downward as I slipped a hand between my thighs. A growl rumbled from him as he caught my wrist and pulled it away. “That’s mine. Are you wet for me?”

I could only nod around his length, taking him deeper, craving the way he cursed and trembled.

“Fuuuck, Ally. You take me so good. But you want me between your legs, don’t you?”

My desperate hum was all the answer he needed.

He pulled free of my mouth with a pop, shifting his glorious body over mine, kissing me hard as he stripped my clothes in a blur of motion. Then he was there, lined up and braced above me, his forearm cradling my head, our breaths mingling.

“Please,” I whispered. I didn’t even know what I was begging for anymore. Release. Escape. More of him. All of him.

“Anything,” August promised, sliding inside inch by aching inch.

Pleasure bloomed hot and full as he began to move, slow at first, deliberate, reverent. My body arched, stretching around him. I clutched at his shoulders, my mind going blank from the overwhelming ecstasy of it.

But just as rapture neared, something cold and cruel twisted in my mind—a memory, a warning. Anything, he’d said.

How many terrible things could be born of a vow like that?

“Eyes on me,” August ordered gently, his hand pressing between my breasts to ground me. “Stay here, baby. You stay with me when I’m inside you.”

I nodded, blinking away the ghosts, anchoring to the warmth in his voice. He smiled—slow and breathtaking—and I gave him a tentative one in return.

“Good.” He slid his hand between us, thumb pressing against my clit in steady, delicious circles. “Now give me what I want, Ally.”

“God, August!” I gasped, biting my lip to muffle the cry as heat ignited in my spine and shot through my limbs.