Page 61 of The Alien's Vicious Starflash Manor

In this moment, there is only her and the power I hold over her. Her heat and need intertwined with the cold bite of my touch.

The dance of ice and flame.

“Ivrael...” Lara moans my name like a forbidden prayer. “No...you can’t. Don’t.”

But her body betrays her, her hips rocking instinctively to meet my thrusts, grinding against me in invitation.

“I can. I will.” My thumb finds the sensitive pearl at the apex of her cleft, circling it slowly, relentlessly, even as my fingers continue their carnal assault on her quivering depths. “Don’t fight it, my princess. Let go.”

I capture her nipple between my teeth again, nothing gentle about my bite this time. Lara keens, a despairing, ecstatic sound, and I feel a fresh rush of liquid heat coat my hand.

So responsive. So ripe for fucking.

My cock throbs almost painfully against my breeches, pulsing in time with the flutter of her pussy around my fingers.

The clash of our bodies is pure, elemental instinct. I want to feel that searing warmth sheathing my shaft, those slick walls rippling along my length as I pound into her.

But not yet. First I will shatter her utterly with my hands and mouth. Make her climax again and again until she is sobbing with the force of it.

Only when she is thoroughly broken will I finally allow myself to?—

“Ivrael!” Her fingernails claw into my back, her body arching. “God, Ivrael, please!” Her hips buck wildly, grinding herself against my relentless touch.

I step up the pressure, pistoning my fingers mercilessly inside her molten core, imbuing them with just a breath of frost. The contrast sends her over the edge, and she explodes around me, crying out my name on a strangled gasp.

Her inner muscles spasm around my digits, tightening like a vice, and the feel of her orgasm travels up my spine like molten lava. It takes every ounce of my willpower not to fuck her against the wall, right then.

Panic seizes me as I feel her squirming, wriggling to escape my grip. The wall beneath her back shudders and cracks, and I know she’s trying to use her power against me, to escape. Her eyes, which a moment ago were glazed with lust, now burn with defiance.

“No! Stay still, damn you!” I slam my hips forward, trying to pin her in place, but she is surprisingly strong for such a small creature.

In the end, her struggles allow her to slide down the wall, if not away from it, and I feel my soaked fingers slip out of her slick pussy as she drops down to the floor.

Her soft curves kneel before me, trembling under my icy gaze. A primal hunger surges through my veins as I take in the sight of her on her knees before me.

“Lara,” I warn, my chest heaving, fury and desire warring within me.

Her wrists are still pinned back against the wall.

But even her ability to slide down shows a loss of my own magical control.

I reach down and fist my hand in her silken hair, roughly tugging her head back. Her neck arches as she gasps, baring her throat to me in submission.

“Do you realize what you’re begging me for?” I demand, my voice a low growl.

Her wide eyes meet mine, equal parts fear and desperate longing. The same one that burns through my veins.

“Yes.” Her voice is a harsh whisper as she strains forward, her wrists still pinned against the wall, and runs her cheek across my breeches.

“Is this what you want?” My voice is hoarse with need. “To be at my mercy?”

To submit to my dominance?

Her gaze locks with mine, and in those depths, I see the answer to my question.

I could order her directly, could demand instant obedience. Could have her disciplined if she refused me.

The power of generations of noble privilege colors every moment between us, condensed into the simple fact that no one in my domain would dare question my right to demand anything of her.

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