Page 43 of What the Hex

Their laughter faded away as their mouths met in another hungry, searching kiss. Tongues dueled, danced, sliding together in an intimate caress, breaking apart only long enough for them to quickly undress each other.

Storm fell into the cradle of his thighs, and they both groaned as their hard lengths rubbed together. Trembling with desire, and maybe a bit of nerves, King stroked his mate’s handsome face, simply marveling that his amazing person belonged to him.

“Are you okay?” Storm asked. “Do we need to slow down?”

Too overcome with emotion, he shook his head and grabbed Storm’s shoulders, pulling him into another desperate kiss. His breath caught, exiting on a quiet moan as he was pressed into the mattress by Storm’s weight. Rather than heavy or suffocating, being surrounded like that felt safe, secure.

“There’s lube in the top drawer of the nightstand.”

His cheeks heated at the admission, but technically, it belonged to Storm anyway. He wasn’t so naïve that he hadn’t known its purpose, but he admitted to a small amount of trepidation when he’d first encountered it while looking for his mate’s phone charger.

God, that seemed like a lifetime ago.

Storm stretched over him, reaching his long arms across the bed for the nightstand. After a bit of rummaging, he returned with a small, clear bottle with a purple cap. King hadn’t been sure how much of this particular dance Storm would remember, but thankfully, he appeared to know exactly what to do next.

Which was a damn good thing because despite a generous amount of slick to ease the way, the invasion of a single digit ached like hell.

“Relax, darlin’. Breathe.”

King did as instructed, taking several deep breaths as he focused on unwinding the tight muscles in his body. It worked a little, but the tension returned tenfold when Storm added a second finger.

Instead of continuing to coach him through the process, Storm apparently decided a distraction was in order. Kissing a wet path down his quivering stomach, his mate nuzzled and teased the crease of his thighs, sending electric currents rippling through him.

When the silky heat of Storm’s mouth closed around the head of his cock, he nearly lost his fucking mind. He whipped his head back and forth against the comforter as sounds he was sure he’d never made before echoed around the room. His stomach clenched, the pressure in his balls built to unbearable levels, and the flames of impending release licked at his skin.

Screwing his eyes closed and gritting his teeth, he summoned every scrap of self-control he possessed so he didn’t go off like a bottle rocket. As such, he barely noticed when Storm breached him with a third finger, but when his mate eventually eased out of him, he felt oddly empty and bereft.

Storm released his cock with a naughty slurp and positioned himself between King’s spread legs once more. Capturing his mouth in a branding kiss, he rocked forward, nudging the crown of his erection against King’s entrance. The cool gel that coated the length felt like a balm to his overheated skin, and he was too overwhelmed to be anxious any longer.

Storm took his time, invading his depths in increments that stretched and filled him, causing an unfamiliar ache in his lower belly. He clung to the shifter’s broad shoulders, trying to anchor himself as Storm flexed his hips in a slow, gentle rhythm.

His skin flushed and burned. Every breath seared his lungs. His cock throbbed with the erratic pounding of his pulse. He was lost, drowning in a sea of new sensations that he never wanted to emerge from.

When the need became too much, when neither of them could leash their control any longer, Storm increased his pace, driving into him faster and more forcefully. King panted, struggling to draw in breath, and his muscles clenched, his inner walls gripping, squeezing.

They moved as one, bodies writhing together, and they raced toward a crescendo that King knew would likely shatter him. When Storm buried his face against the side of his neck, he wasn’t sure what to make of it at first. Then soft lips closed over a sensitive spot right below his ear, and sharp canines pierced the skin.

The sting of pain lasted for less than a heartbeat before it was replaced with the most indescribable pleasure. Just as he’d predicted, King shattered into thousands of shiny, sparkling pieces, calling Storm’s name again and again in hushed tones as he erupted to fill the space between them with volleys of pearly cream.

Then Storm claimed his mouth again, thrusting his tongue between King’s panting lips. The taste of copper was subtle but unmistakable, and he groaned as radiant sunlight filled the deepest recesses of his soul.

Above him, Storm shuddered and growled, a deep, resonating sound that vibrated through his entire being. One last hard plunge, and he stilled, the cords in his neck straining as he emptied himself into King’s convulsing channel.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” he asked long moments later as he gently eased from King’s sated body.

A contended smile curved the corner of his lips at the sound of his mate’s voice inside his head. Some humans were freaked out by the thought of telepathic communication, but King had been looking forward to it since the day they’d met.

“Sleepy.” Fuck, he felt like he’d been run over by an armored tank.

“Rest. I’ll get you cleaned up.”

King hummed his gratitude, but he was too tired to open his eyes. In his daze, he heard water running in the en suite, and he felt the mattress dip when Storm returned. The warm, wet cloth that caressed his skin felt nice, but even that couldn’t pull him from the edge of sleep.

“King?”

It took an extraordinary amount of effort, but he finally managed to pry his eyes open. “Yeah?”

“My sisters’ names are Bridget and Bailey.”

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