Page 68 of Tempest Rising

I could barely breathe as he sank to his knees before me, the water cascading over his muscular form, plastering his hair to his head. Even with his pants still on, the sight of this powerful man kneeling at my feet was intoxicating.

His hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh with a need that mirrored my own. "I need to taste you, Tess," he said, his voice a low rumble that I felt in the very marrow of my bones.

Before I could reply, he buried his face between my thighs, his tongue darting out to explore me with a hunger that left me trembling. The sensation of his hot mouth on my most sensitive spot was almost too much to bear. I threaded my fingers through his wet hair, holding on as waves of pleasure crashed over me.

"Oh, god," I moaned, my voice echoing off the tiled walls.

Mason's only response was to intensify his efforts, his tongue circling and flicking with expert precision. I could feel the buildup of tension deep within, a coiling spring that threatened to unravel at any moment.

"You taste so damn good," he groaned against me, the vibrations sending me even closer to the edge.

I was lost in a sea of sensation, each stroke of his tongue pushing me further into the abyss. My hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his mouth as I chased the release that was just out of reach.

"Mason, please," I begged, not even sure what I was asking for.

He knew, though. He always knew. With a final, devastating flick of his tongue, he sent me spiraling into oblivion, my cries of ecstasy mingling with the sound of the rushing water.

Shell-shocked, I could barely stand as Mason rose, turning off the water. I barely noticed as he removed the rest of his clothes and gathered me in his strong arms, carrying me to where the towels waited.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured. “So fragile. And yet... so damn strong. My mate.”

He finished drying me and carried me to the bed, laying me down with infinite care. His gaze traveled over me, dark and hungry, but his touch was featherlight. He ran his fingers alongthe curve of my hip, tracing patterns against my damp skin that made me shiver.

Mason's lips found mine again, and this time, his kiss was fierce and demanding, filled with the raw intensity of his need. The sight of his wings emerging, faintly trembling, sent a thrill through me. They stretched behind him, their stony texture catching the light and casting shadows across the room. They were so big, so powerful, so inherently masculine that it took my breath away.

As I looked up at him, my gaze drank in the sight of his beautifully sculpted chest, the defined ridges of his abdomen, and the broad expanse of his shoulders, all etched with the strength and grace of a warrior. His skin, a warm shade of dark brown, seemed to glow in the soft light, highlighting the contours of his muscles. My eyes traveled lower, and I couldn't help but notice the impressive size of his cock, thick and hard, just like the rest of him. It was intimidating, yet the thought of him inside me made a heat pool deep in my belly.

He caught my lingering gaze and a low, rumbling chuckle escaped his lips. "Don't worry, it will fit," he murmured reassuringly, his voice a deep, resonant sound that vibrated through me. "You're my mate." The certainty in his voice was unshakeable, a testament to the bond that tied us together.

Mason’s lips found mine again, his touch both tender and demanding. His kiss was fiercer this time, filled with the raw intensity of his need, a need that mirrored my own. His hands roamed over my breasts, his thumbs teasing my nipples into hard peaks before they continued their exploration downward, tracing the curve of my waist and hip until they reached the apex of my thighs.

He slid a finger inside me, then two, stroking and curling with a maddening rhythm that built the tension until pleasure coiled tight in my core, a sensation so exquisite it bordered on pain.

"Don't stop," I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders. "I'm so close, Mason. Please... please don't stop."

“Don’t worry,” he growled. “I’ll take care of you.”

I arched against his hand, the pleasure building to a crescendo that left me panting and desperate for more. "Mason," I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper, "I need you. Now."

"Are you sure, Tess?" he asked, his voice gruff with need. "Once we do this, there's no going back."

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," I replied, my voice steady and full of conviction. I was ready to take this final step, to solidify our bond in the most intimate way possible.

He positioned himself at my entrance, the tip of him nudging my slick folds. I tensed slightly, realizing the extent of his size, but I trusted him completely.

As he pushed forward, I felt the stretch, the delicious mix of pressure and pleasure as he filled me inch by inch. The feeling of fullness was intense, bordering on too much, but the ache was quickly overtaken by a rising tide of ecstasy.

"Are you okay?" Mason's voice was strained, his muscles coiled with the effort of holding still. "Tell me if it's too much."

"It's perfect," I managed, drawing him closer for a searing kiss. "You're perfect. Please, Mason, move."

He did, withdrawing slowly before plunging back in, setting a deep, powerful rhythm that rocked my entire body. Each thrust sent sparks through my nerves, stoking the fire building insideme. I met him thrust for thrust, my hips rising to take him deeper.

The room filled with the sounds of our lovemaking—the slap of skin on skin, our mingled groans and sighs, the creaking of the bed beneath us.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough with passion. “Mine to protect. Mine to love. Forever.”

“Yes,” I gasped. “Forever.”

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