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“What?” I whisper, shaking, clamping my lips together to keep quiet as he finally reaches the top of my thigh and…
Oh Gods…He strokes me right where the pressure is gathering, then lower, pushing a finger into me, and it shouldn’t feel so good, so utterly, impossibly delicious but… He’s watching me and I can’t stand it, the pleasure, it’s mounting and mounting and becoming too much…
He crooks his finger, strokes me deeper, then adds another, and I cry out as the pressure breaks.
Like last time, I think, stunned and trembling with the force of it, like last time but better. They say a man puts his cock into a woman and pleasures her that way. I always thought it was a tall tale but now… The thought of it makes me moan.
“What are you doing to me,” he breathes. He’s still stroking me. “By all the Gods…”
Me?Tohim? What about all that he’s doing to me?
Finally, he pulls his fingers out, brings his hand to his mouth and licks them clean. What is he doing? Why does he groan as he does that, eyes half-closing, as if it gives him pleasure?
He trails his wet fingers over his chest and bends over me again. “Selina…”
I’ve never found myself in such a position, I think dazedly, and he feels good, pressing down on me, his handsome face so close, dark lashes like lace over those amethyst eyes, mouth wide and finely shaped, cheekbones broad and high in cheeks of polished marble.
He’s the one doing things to my senses, things that I’d never imagined were possible. He’s messing with my mind. A typical Fae thing to do, and yet…
And yet when he covers my mouth with his again, all rational thought flees, and I part my lips for him, to taste him again, to feel him. Feel his hard chest pressing down on my breasts, feel the tickle of his soft hair against my cheeks.
We kiss and kiss, the soughing of the wavelets on the shore fading away, the chirping of the birds falling into silence, the cold seeping into my skin replaced with heat. Wantonly, I bend my knees on either side of him, pressing myself harder against him, needing to feel him.
Pleasure and more pleasure course through me, just from feeling him so hard between my legs, just from feeling him tremble, from swallowing his moan.
I want to touch him there, where he’s so hard. When I shove my hand between us, when I find his cock and wrap my fingers around it, he jerks.
This time he’s the one who breaks the kiss. Grunting, he pushes himself off me, muscles flexing in his powerful arms, to look down where my hand is curled around his thick, hard rod.
His face is taut with tension. He’s not breathing, as if waiting for me to make the next move. His chest and stomach muscles are clenched, harsh planes and valleys.
When I move my hand up, tugging a little on his cock, he lets out a broken sound, like a bitten-off groan.
His cock seems to swell in my hand, growing hotter. I stare at it, fascinated, at the beads of clear fluid emerging from the small slit on the flushed head, running down, coating his length. Now when I tug, it’s easier, the slick skin letting my fingers slide.
“Princess,” he hisses when I do it again, and again, feeling too hot myself at seeing how this affects him.
And then he gasps and his cock jerks in my hand, shooting ropes of white all over his chest. I gasp, too, taken by surprise, and his cock does it again and again.
“Maab,” he grunts and I realize that his face has relaxed, though he’s panting. “It’s been too fucking long. Haven’t come so hard in ages.”
I made him come.
Pleasured him.
It takes a long moment for my senses to return.
When they do, they slam into me like fists. I release his now limp cock in a hurry, trying to gather my thoughts.
Oh Gods, what am I doing? Lying in the mud with this monster, kissing him and rubbing against him like a cat in heat. Letting him put his hands on me, in me, touching his cock…
Wanton. The word echoes through me, embarrassment flooding me.This isn’t like me.
Fascinating, another voice whispers in my mind and it sounds a lot like mine.Hot.
No. No…
“I have to go,” I whisper, dragging myself back and away from under him with my hands, pushing with my feet, scrambling up the slight bank.
