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His breath is a warm, welcome rush across my skin as he leans down to pull my nipple into his mouth. He sinks his teethinto it, slowly dragging it through them. A powerful bolt of…something…rips through me. I cry out his name so loud it hurts my throat.
"Ah, baby doll," he croons, lifting his head to look at me. "You like it when I'm a little rough with you, don't you?"
"Yes," I mouth, unable to force out sound.
He bites me again, pulling a mindless sob from somewhere deep in my throat. His tongue swirls over the aching, needy flesh, soothing his bite. And then he moves on, paying the same attention to the other breast. He moves back and forth between them, drugging me with pleasure. He's a single-minded machine, focused entirely on ruining me. His lips never even leave my skin as he prowls down the bed, kissing and biting me everywhere.
I learn more about my body with him touching me than I ever knew before. His hair tickles my ribcage, making me giggle. His lips against my belly sap all the moisture from my mouth. His hands clamped around my thighs make me moan his name. I'm sensitive in a thousand places I never suspected, in a thousand ways I didn't know was possible. He finds every secret spot, lavishing attention on it. Until I forget the rest of the world. I forget everything but the way he loves me.
It's impossible to doubt him when he's got his hands on me. He touches me as if willing me to feel what he does. And I do. God, I do. Theo Kline, crazy hockey superstar, is in love with me. I don't know how it happened or why he chose me, but he did.
"So beautiful," he whispers, draping my legs over his shoulders. He turns his head, placing his lips against the inside of my thigh. "God, Charlotte. Do you have any idea how beautiful you look right now?"
"You're the beautiful one," I murmur, clinging to fistfuls of the blankets like that's going to root me to reality. It won't. I already know what he's capable of when he gets his mouth on me. It'smagic. Not fairy magic or supernatural magic, but the real stuff. The old stuff. The kind that reaches so far back in time, we lost the memory of it long ago. We thought it died.
It didn't.
When he has his mouth on me, I feel it pulsing in my veins and in the air around me. I feel it seeping into every pore, setting me alight with power. I'm not a disaster in this bed. I'm a woman, fierce and adored, filled with a magic nothing can alter, nothing can shake. I'm want and need, radiant and free.
"Watch me, Charlotte. I want you to see what I do to you."
I lock my gaze on him, eager for the experience. Eager to watchhim.
He doesn't disappoint. He's full of magic in this bed too. He's a warrior, fiercely powerful, shining bright. It ripples around him like a mirage in the desert. Power. Pleasure. Command. No, he's not the ice prince in this bed. He's a king.Myking.
He dips his head…and sends me shooting into orbit like a star catapulting through the night. His tongue is everywhere, flicking at my clit, thrusting into my opening, swirling in lazy eights through my folds. I cry out, bucking, arching, thrashing beneath him, caught in his triumphant gaze and the grip of his hands. A coil forms in my belly, growing bigger, and then bigger still. Until it engulfs every inch of me, vibrating at a frequency I'm not built to withstand.
He holds me open to him, his hands vises around my thighs as he devours me. He doesn't stop or take it slow or have a single ounce of mercy on me. He's ruthless, a hungry predator set loose on his prey. He forces me to submit without a single word, bending me to his will, to his desire. I feel it acutely, how much he wants this. How much he loves this. His truth is loud in the silence around us, his devotion unwilling to lie quietly and exist in silence.
This man…Lord, this man is going to be my undoing.
He growls against my pussy, making me cry out in surprise as I feel it deep in my womb.
"I love licking this little thing, Charlotte," he says, his eyes meeting mine. "You taste like candy on my tongue. Work your hips for me, little one. Make a mess of my mouth while I make a mess of you."
I give him what he wants, helpless to resist the allure. If he wants me to make a mess of him, I will. I rock my hips, grinding his tongue against my clit. He stiffens it, letting me ride along the edge of it as arousal floods my system all over again, that coil in my belly collapsing in on itself. It shrinks into a single pinprick of pleasure that's more powerful than anything I've felt before.
The look of pure satisfaction on his face is my undoing.
He's not just eating me. I think…I think he'sworshippingme. There's nothing temporary about the way he's looking at me, nothing easily stifled or silenced. This is permanent for him, as unalterable as it is for me. This…this is forever.
I shatter like delicate glass. The entire world erupts around me, exploding into nothing. It takes me with it, hitting like a maelstrom. I wail as pleasure rains down on me, sending me wheeling into orbit. I twist and float, moaning his name so loud it still echoes in the corners of the room when I fall limp beneath him.
"Goddamn, that looked good," he growls, gently sliding my legs off his shoulders. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth before prowling up my body. He holds himself up with his forearms, his body covering mine without touching me.
His strength is fascinating to me. He's a veritable giant, powerful in every way. He could easily hurt me if he wanted to do it, and yet I know the thought alone would break him. He uses that strength to cradle and protect me…to makemestronger. It flows into me, turning my spine to steel, hardening my resolvelike iron tempered at the forge. Yes, I can let this man love me. And I'll love him back just as fiercely, better than anyone else ever could.
"I want that cherry now, little one. You ready to give it to me?"
A whimper rolls from my lips.
My back arches off the bed.
That's all the answer he needs.
"Sweet little fairy," he breathes inches from my lips. "You're all mine now."
"Yes," I whisper, unable to deny it. I think I've been his for the last five months. No amount of fighting or denying or avoiding would have changed the outcome. One way or another, I was always supposed to land here in his bed. I was always supposed to be his.
