When he returned to my breast, the spark burned a thousand times stronger. His fingers trailed the skin at my waist, my hips, and my inner thighs, before drawing my undergarments to the side and sinking in. “Here?”
I nodded, burying my head in his neck.
“Don’t hide from me. I want you to watch.”
With his free hand, he fisted my hair, drawing my head back with a strong tug. “Do you feel this?” His hand began to glow. I melted at his touch. “I can make you burn for me the way I burn for you.”
Rían became fire and flame.
Making me burn.
I slid my own hand into his breeches, finding his length hard as marble and just as smooth. I felt clumsy and inept, but the way he cursed and twitched in my grasp emboldened me.
Rían’s fingers worked into a steady rhythm as I tightened my grip, matching his pace.
“How many times did he have you?” he rasped, the pad of his thumb finding the bundle of nerves. His two fingers curled deeper, drawing a whimper from my chest. “How many times must I take you before you feel me and only me?”
“Only once,” I confessed. My first and only time had been awkward but sweet, painful but beautiful.
Rían let go of my hair and withdrew his hand, leaning back to look me in the eyes. “Once?”
I nodded.
His hands trailed down my sides to catch my hips, rocking me against his hard length. I propped my feet onto the chair’s rungs to gain purchase. Grinding harder. Deeper. Desperate to feel every inch of him.
“Will I stop at one?” he muttered between kisses to my lips, my throat, my breasts.
My hair, damp from sweat, fell over my bare shoulder when I shook my head. When I reached for the buttons on his waistcoat, he flicked his wrist. His shirt and waistcoat disappeared.
“How shall I unravel you, human?” He drew out the words as he hooked his fingers into the waistband at the side of my knickers, ripping the seams until they fell away. “Tell me what you want.”
I found him again, drawing a curse from his lips. “This. This is what I want.”
He unfastened the belt at his waist with devastating slowness. The sound of the leather strap slipping through the buckle was a melody. “Shall I take my time?”
“Make it last,” I told him. The moment this ended, I knew what would come.
Bracing my weight on the chair, I lifted so he could ease his breeches down and down until they pooled around his ankles.
Feral possessiveness took my chest in its iron grip as I drank in the sight of him.
Mine.
I wanted this deceitful prince to be mine.
Life. Death. Nothing mattered but the way his fingers returned to me, making way for what I really wanted. His free hand gripped my backside. “Lift those lovely hips.”
I did as I was told, raising myself so he could position his thickness against my entrance. I sank slowly, holding my breath as I clutched the back of the chair. Beads of perspiration collected on his brow.
The stinging pain stole my breath as his body invaded mine. “There you go . . .” His fingers dug into the flesh at the backs of my thighs. “How does that feel?” His free hand found its way to my neck, stroking down my throat.
“It hurts.”
He brushed my hair back from my cheeks, the look on his face almost reverent as he eased forward to dot kisses down my neck to the hollow at my throat, quickly turning his attention to the hard peaks of my breasts. Nipping, then soothing the pain with his tongue.
My muscles began to loosen,
There was still pain when I shifted, but also delicious fullness and searing heat.