Page 34 of Semi-Fallen

He smiled down at her. “I’ve waited a lifetime for you, sweetling. Literally crossed oceans of time and space to find you. Why would I rush now?”

* * *

Because he was killing her, that’s why.

Lane had never in her life been this turned on. It was starting to feel like a matter of life and death. If she didn’t get this man inside her soon (like, really soon) she might actually die.

But that and every other thought in her head left the building when he let go of her wrists and skimmed one hand over her breast, across her stomach, and down, down, down until it slipped deftly between her legs.

“You can still change your mind, you know,” he said, dipping down to trail his tongue over the spot where her shoulder met her neck.

He obviously still wanted her to reject him as her mate. He wasn’t capable of it anymore, but he still wanted her to do it.

Yeah, right. Not happening.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please.”

She felt his answering growl reverberate across her heated, oversensitive skin. And that’s where she parted ways with coherent thought, because that’s when his rough, callused fingers started moving.

If she’d ever had any doubt they were fated mates, this would’ve obliterated it. Because he touched her like he was the only one in the world who knew exactly what her body needed, as if he alone could anticipate every possible scenario that would reduce her to a puddle of moaning, whimpering, writhing need at his feet.

Lane was biting down on her lower lip to stay quiet when she suddenly realized she didn’t have to. She couldn’t hurt Lucien. And so long as she didn’t scream with full power, no animals in the woods around the house would be injured.

So, when he leaned down to suck one of her nipples into his hot mouth, she let go and surrendered control to him, moaning out loud for the first time in, well, ever.

She might have had a stroke when he pushed two fingers into her and unerringly found and stroked her g-spot. Might have blacked out when his teeth closed around her nipple and gave it a sharp tug that bordered on painful.

And still, he tormented her until her thighs trembled and her breathing huffed in and out of her lungs like she’d just run a marathon. He tormented her until she begged him to fuck her.

Please. Please. Please...

That’s when he stopped.

Lane whimpered. She was so, so close. Why was he torturing her like this?

She didn’t even realize she’d asked that question out loud until he said, “I’m not torturing you. I’ll give you everything you need, I promise. But the first time I make you come? It’s not going to be with my fingers. Well, not just my fingers, anyway.”

That was a lot to process. First of all, he’d said he was going to make her come. Yippee! And since he said “the first time”, he must’ve intended to make her come more than once. Again, yippee! The number of possible ways he could make her come without using his fingers was…staggering.

She never got a chance to do the math on any of that, though, because her brain went on strike as he slid down her body and stroked his tongue over her clit, all while his fingers continued their assault on her sanity.

That’s all it took. Two or three strokes of his tongue and she broke, reduced to a shaking, sobbing, wet, orgasmic mess.

And still it wasn’t enough for him.

Lifting his head just enough for her to read his lips, he growled, “Again.”

His plan tonight was obviously to make her come until she couldn’t remember her own name. He was well on his way, too. He kept at her, fingers sliding in and out, tongue applying the perfect amount of pressure, until she came a second time, so hard and powerful it was almost painful.

Wow. Just…wow.

She’d never had orgasms like that in her life. She would’ve sworn up until this moment orgasms like that only existed in romance novels. It had been…transformative. As if her DNA had been pulled apart and pieced back together again so that she was now a brand-new person.

One that was officially ruined for all other men.

Lucien straightened and brushed the back of one hand over his mouth as he stared down at her in wonder. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured.

Which was a lovely thing to say, especially since he was looking at her as if she alone was responsible for the sun rising every day. But she was out of patience. The time for pretty words was past. Like, two orgasms ago.

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