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“You don’t want me to look at you like you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen?” I lifted my eyes back to hers.
She scoffed. “Don’t lie to me. You’re looking at me like you’re willing to touch any part of me that isn’t scarred. But those fucking scars are as much a part of me as my tits and ass.”
Fury coursed through me, and my magic swelled again.
She inhaled sharply, her eyes widening slightly.
She didn’t believe my words, so clearly, the woman preferred actions.
I caught her hand and lifted it to my mouth. Rather than kissing her fingertips the way my mother’s people did to claim their mate and show their devotion again, I turned her wrist and slowly dragged my tongue over her scar.
Her lips parted as she watched me lick every fucking inch of her gorgeous, scarred wrist. She said nothing, and made no effort to remove it from my grasp.
When I released her wrist, I planted a knee on the mattress and leaned over her abdomen. She sucked in a sharp breath when my hand spread over the unscarred portion of her rib cage, and her breathing grew faster when I lowered my lips to her abdomen. I gave her a long, torturous moment to push me away or stop me.
When she didn’t, I let my tongue touch the scarred skin there.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly as I licked every fucking delicious inch of her healed injuries, rolling her over when I was done with the front. The thick, needy scent of her desire and small swell of her breasts tormented me, but I didn’t let them distract me.
She was mine.
Fuckingmine.
And I wasn’t going to let her go until she ordered me to get off of her, or knew without a shred of doubt that I wanted every piece of her, scars and all.
I slowly made my way down the back of her body. It made my cock ache to avoid the wet line down the center of her, and to resist grabbing handfuls of that sexy little ass, but I had a purpose.
She was panting by the time I reached her ankle. The scent of her need was much stronger, and I had to grip her foot and calf to prevent my hands from wandering further up her bare body.
She rolled to her back as I got to work on the scar on her left ankle, my body tensing as she slid her other foot over my head, her toes dragging on my hair and her core opening wide for me, just for the shortest moment.
It took me a moment to recover from the shock of her motion, and then her fingers were moving between her thighs, and my magic swelled around me.
Her fingers paused.
“You don’t get to touch yourself in my bed, Lemay,” I warned her, my voice low and deadly. “That’s my job. You want to get off, you give me an invitation.”
“I’m naked in your bed, with my hands between my thighs. How could I possibly give you more of an invitation?” Her voice was strained, the scent of her desire still making me so fucking hard I couldn’t think straight.
Maybe if I were a better man, I would’ve hesitated, or double-checked.
But I wasn’t a better man.
I was on my knees on the floor in a heartbeat, holding her thighs on my shoulders as her ass hung off the bed, my tongue meeting her core.
This woman would be mine, in every fucking way there was.
Chapter5
Vena
Havingsex with the Dark King was probably not the best call I’d ever made, but he treated me kindly, and we were both only a few months away from death. So… why not, right?
Orgasms were like salt, after all. There was no such thing as too much salt, or too many orgasms.
The elemental fae usually saved themselves—ourselves, I supposed—for the mate they chose, but given the horrors of my past, that ship had sailed for me long ago. I hadn’t had sex since I escaped the prison, but I had certainly become well-acquainted with my body. Knowing you didn’t have long to live forced a person to do things quickly that they otherwise would’ve approached slowly and uncertainly.
But his tongue was between my thighs, and I could still feel his magic soaking every inch of me. It was driving me insane, and I had a small shred of hope that after we’d had sex, my desire for him would fade.
