Page 33 of The Storm of the Empire

“Easy,” he soothed, seemingly more in control. Lucky for him.

His hand slipped around my hip, guiding himself inside before his fingers found my clit. The intense pressure of him filling me almost hurt because of his size, but it quickly eased with his expert knowledge of my body.

I sighed with relief. That was until he moved, and I realized nothing could fully detract from his dick.

“Fuck,” he growled. “You feel—” He didn’t finish—or if he did, I lost track of his words.

Nothing got through. The storm faded away, the cellar disappeared. Only feeling existed, and I was lost to it.

He slammed into me again and again, and I was flying. I absently wondered what this would feel like whilst flying, him inside me while my wings carried us through the skies. I wasn’t sure I could carry us both with only wings shifted, but the fantasy was lovely.

“Goddess, Hazel,” he groaned, snapping me back to the moment. “You’re so tight.”

“You fill every inch of me. I can barely breathe.” I was so close again, barreling towards a release that felt too big for me to handle, but he was right there with me, holding me up, and together, we let go, both moaning out our pleasure into the storm.

I didn’t want it to end.

The closeness.

How he filled me.

All of it.

TWELVE

LUKA

By the Goddess, that was incredible.

Breathing hard, I slid from her heat and was pleased when she turned in my arms rather than moving away.

She sighed and smiled lazily, and I found myself leaning in for a tender kiss. She allowed it, and I felt as though I’d somehow tamed a wild creature. I supposed in some ways, it was true.

“I’ve never been with a dragon before,” I admitted.

“We are just like other fae.” We both knew that wasn’t entirely true.

“Right, exactly the same…except all the fire breathing and teeth and stuff. Not a huge difference.”

“Actually, I’m a storm dragon. I wield lightning.”

“Of course you do.” I shook my head, brushing my nose against the cute tip of hers. “Like Nyx?”

“No, nothing like Nyx. His isn’t lightning. It’s darkness. He gets more magic from his mate, but it’s still different than the lightning here. Ours disrupts magic.”

“So you’ve said.” I thought then that she was made of storms. I saw it in her eyes the first night we were together, only I didn’t recognize it then. I did now.

She draped her arms over my shoulders and stroked her fingers through my hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever been with a spy before.”

“You don’t think?”

“Well, if they were a good spy, I would never know.” She grinned, and the lamplight sparkled in her eyes. It was the most at ease I’d ever seen her.

I laughed at her playfulness. “Are you declaring me a bad spy?”

“If the boot fits…”

The mirth in her eyes made me realize I could easily stare into them forever. But thunder reminded me of our situation, and I eased back. “Speaking of boots… We should probably get dressed. I don’t want to get caught with my pants down—literally or figuratively.”

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