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I gasped, arching into his touch as he rumbled against me in approval, sliding a finger into me and curling it deliciously inward as he licked and stroked. Something about the forked end of his tongue was wholly sinful and wickedly effective, and I moaned as he circled me tighter and faster.
“Is this normal?” I breathed, pressing harder against him, needing more of him in me and on me.
“Is what normal?” he asked between strokes as he sent sparks shooting all the way up my body to my peaked nipples.
“This…wanting,” I gasped out, unable to explain more articulately what I meant with his tongue doing such wicked things between my thighs.
He chuckled, the sound a sensual caress that made me grind against him.
“Yes,” he replied. “But only with your mate.”
“Even before accepting?” I added breathlessly.
“Stop talking, Elara,” Carnon gritted out, following these words with a series of strokes that made me come apart around him with moans and little gasps of pleasure. I couldn’t talk if I’d wanted to, and he made sure I didn’t want to, pumping his fingers and swirling his tongue as that ache built inside me.
I cried out, release catching me by surprise as his tongue worked me into a writhing, panting frenzy. He withdrew his fingers almost painfully slowly, capturing my gaze as he sucked them into his perfect mouth.
“Gods above,” he groaned. “You still taste like perfection.”
“Carnon,” I growled, propping myself on my elbows to glare at him. “Stop talking.”
He grinned, shucking off his trousers and climbing atop me, kissing his way up my body as if we had all the time in the world. I squirmed lower, trying to position myself faster and he nipped at my lip.
“Impatient little witch,” he rumbled, wrapping an arm around my back to pull my body closer to his. He was so close to where I needed him, but he stilled, waiting.
“Torturous demon,” I replied, nipping back. “Please?”
“Hmmm,” he rumbled darkly, kissing me as he entered me in a delicious, deep thrust. He captured my gasp with his lips, withdrawing slowly and repeating the motion. “There are those manners.”
Molten heat seemed to run through my very bones as he moved in me, slowly and deliberately as if he relished every moment our bodies touched. I tried to urge him faster, to move his hips with mine, but he resisted, moving languidly like a rolling wave.
“Why won’t you fuck me properly?” I breathed, almost snapping in annoyance at his unhurried pace. He chuckled, moving slowly and steadily as he worked to rekindle that heat and release in me with deliberate, torturous patience.
“Because this is not fucking, Elara,” he replied, lifting his head to meet my eyes as he continued his deep, steady thrusts. “This is making love.”
I laughed in surprise and he slipped out of me, cursing softly. “Sorry,” I said, biting my lip as he gave me an arch look. “That’s just very…romantic of you?”
“I’m extremely romantic,” Carnon claimed, kissing my neck and moving back to my ear. I shivered as his breath caressed me, his rumbled laugh making goosebumps erupt down my arms. “If you let me claim you,” he purred, “I promise I’ll fuck you against every tree in the damn forest.” My toes curled as he pushed back inside me, and I wrapped my legs around his hips to pull him close. “But right now, I’m going to slowly,” he kissed my jaw, “and tenderly,” another kiss to my nose, “make love to you.” This time he captured my lips, thrusting his hips in time with his tongue in one gloriously long pull. He pulled away, capturing my gaze and making me gasp as he deepened his thrusts. “Until you are clawing at me with need.”
I felt like I might already be there, nails scraping over his back as I arched into him, aching again for him to go fast and hard and deep. He didn’t, maintaining that steady, torturous pace until I was thrumming with the desire to shatter around him.
I moaned. “Please, Carnon.” He smiled against my lips, refusing to increase his languid pace.
“Admit I’m romantic,” he murmured, almost grinning against my lips. I moaned and he rolled us, thrusting up into me as I straddled him.
“So romantic,” I breathed, almost crying in relief when he sped up. One of his hands moved to my backside, gripping me tightly as the other wove into my hair.
“Then come for me,” he growled, finally pumping fast and hard as he groaned against my neck. Release came in slow, languid waves, and I dug my nails into his shoulders as I tossed my head back in sweet relief.
Carnon grunted, twisting to his side and pulling me close to him as if he was afraid I might fly out of his arms. He pressed his lips to my forehead, breathing hard and heedless of the sweat that dotted my brow.
“If I told you I love you, Elara,” he said quietly, still holding me fast against him, “would you run?”
I stilled, panic and something warm and glowing tangling into a tight ball in my chest.
“Not ‘Red?’” I asked, struggling to say something more meaningful. I half expected Carnon to laugh or smirk or brush the moment away, but he didn’t. He lay still as a statue, holding me fast.
“Telling your mate you love her is no time for nicknames,” he replied, still speaking into my forehead as if afraid looking at me would frighten me away. “Especially when you spent the first few weeks of your courtship lying to her.”
