Page 207 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

‘I would claim you …slowly. Allow my shadows to worship you while I watch you writhe and moan my name until you shatter.’

Alora gasped when Garrik removed her underthings before he spread her trembling knees, settling his mouth at the sensitive juncture of her thigh before she felt his breath.

“Garrik,” she begged on the edge of insanity as he lifted her leg over his shoulder. She gasped again. Moaning loud enough to rattle the picture frames when he gave her exactly what she pleaded for.

Garrik’s face drifted between her, and all she could see through her half-lidded eyes was the gleam of moonlight on gray hair as he licked tauntingly slow up her center.

She may have cried out his name, though words were far beyond her.

Garrik’s feral hum and the vibration of it against her was as electrifying as dawning through millions of worlds. Unknowing—uncaring—of where or even who she was as he licked and sucked and flicked over that bundle of nerves, which grew taut and swelled for him.

Her mind emptied on the next stroke. On the hands that gripped her ass and pulled her pulsing core closer as he sunk his tongue deep inside.

On the rapturous sounds his groans made on the taste of her.

To the rhythm of his tongue, Alora’s hips undulated.

“Fuck,” he groaned, adjusting his straining cock behind the snaps and ties of his pants. “That’s my clever girl. Just like that.”

Alora’s back arched, pulling down on the shadows holding her there at his mercy as a strangled sound released from her lips. She wanted him buried inside her so badly she must’ve said something about it. Barely heard Garrik’s promise as helicked her wildly and curved a finger, then two, deep inside until pleasure surged down her spine and crashed over her like two Celestials warring to claim their star.

And by that star, he did it again.

Devouring her like a starving male. Like only her moans and her release satisfied the ravenous hunger.

She couldn’t hold herself up anymore, trembling and weakened from a pleasure, that before Garrik, she never knew existed. Shadows caressed her, he rose before her and lifted her into his arms.

Carrying her against his bare chest, Garrik strode up the staircase, never taking his eyes off her. The fireplace on the top floor roared into existence. Low autumn light brushed over the stacked round-stoned pillars and wooden beams. Over the flat-slated stones of the floor and the fur rugs and chandeliers. Casting a glow outside the tall windows and the open door to a wooden balcony displaying the mountainscapes and the lake beyond.

Garrik carried her to that balcony threshold and eased her feet to the cold floor. Alora closed her eyes and leaned her head back on his incredible shoulder, stretching it slightly when the ice of his lips feathered over her pulse.

And she wondered how a few short months with him had turned into forever as he tenderly kissed her neck. That same feeling laced within his simplest touch. Laced within the way his hands roved down her sides along the fabric separating them.

Alora couldn’t think past the way his hands moved so carefully over the gown. Wishing they would find the laces and strip her bare. Wanting it so terribly that the hem of her skirt?—

Garrik’s growl vibrated into her back.

She opened her eyes to see her gown misting away by a night-kissed wind. But it wasn’t by Garrik’s command.

Because that ring on her finger …

Inside the gemstone …

Shadows whorled, as wild and demanding as the darkness crawling up her gown, and consumed inch by inch until it was gone.

Garrik chuckled against her skin. “Someone’s eager.”

She may have made a sound of amusement.

A ribbon of his power flowed behind her, along the fabric of his pants pressed against her. But instead of leather, now flesh brushed her, and he was naked too.

Alora’s mouth went dry. Her stomach fluttered.

Garrik’s fingers drifted across her ribs—so tauntingly slow—to her breast and cupped it, swirling his thumb on the peaked nipple.

She couldn’t stop the moan. Unable to stop the next one too as another finger drew lazy circles down her stomach before it slipped into the wetness waiting for him.

“Do you think they are jealous?” There was nothing but pure male pride in that guttural voice.

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