Page 29 of Blade's Princess

"Blade," I sigh, my voice thick with sleepy desire. His stubble grazes the tender skin of my inner thighs, the slight burn adding another dimension to the sensations overwhelming me.

He looks up, his eyes dark and hungry, pupils dilated with lust. "Morning, princess," he murmurs against my most sensitive flesh, the vibration of his deep voice adding another layer of sensation. "Like your wake-up call?"

A whimper escapes me as he circles my clit with his tongue, my hips unconsciously bucking against his mouth. "Yes," I manage, the word dissolving into another gasp as he sucks gently, then more firmly.

My fingers tangle in his messy blond hair, tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as he groans approvingly against me. The sound vibrates through my core, making my thighs tremble. I'd never imagined myself being so bold, but something about Blade makes me brave, makes me want to explore these new territories.

"That's it, baby," he encourages, his breath hot against me. "Show me what you want. Guide me."

His words embolden me further. I tighten my grip in his hair, directing him slightly to where I need him most. The intimacy of this act—communicating without words, trusting him with my pleasure—intensifies everything. My other hand clutches at the sheets, twisting them in my fist as pressure builds low in my belly.

"You taste so fucking good," he growls, his large hands sliding under my hips to lift me closer to his hungry mouth. "Could do this for hours."

"Blade," I whisper, his name a plea and a prayer as the tension builds inside me, coiling tighter with each expert stroke of his tongue against my clit. My thighs begin to shake, my breathing coming in quick, shallow pants. "I'm going to?—"

"Let go," he commands, his voice a rumble against my sensitive flesh. "Come for me, princess. Want to feel you."

His words push me over the edge.

When the release comes, it crashes over me in waves, my body trembling as Blade holds my hips steady, working me through every aftershock until I'm gasping for breath. Stars explode behind my closed eyelids, my thighs quivering uncontrollably. My back arches off the mattress as pulseafter pulse of pleasure radiates outward from my core, each one stealing my breath. His tongue continues its relentless assault, circling and flicking, drawing out my climax until I'm whimpering, caught between wanting more and begging for mercy.

I'm still floating in bliss when he moves up my body, his heavy, muscled form caging me beneath him. The delicious weight of him presses me into the mattress, skin against skin, his chest hair tickling my sensitive nipples. The thick ridge of his arousal rests hot and heavy against my inner thigh, a promise of what's to come. His eyes are dark with desire, predatory and possessive, yet there's tenderness in how he brushes stray hairs from my face.

He captures my mouth in a kiss that makes me whimper. His tongue plunges deep, claiming my mouth with the same thoroughness he'd just claimed between my legs. The taste of my own arousal on his lips sends a renewed flood of heat to my center. When he finally breaks the kiss, leaving me breathless once more, his eyes bore into mine with savage intensity. "Say it, Sophie." His voice is commanding, but his calloused fingers are gentle as they trace my cheekbone, then slide down to cup my breast, thumb circling the hardened peak.

I know exactly what he wants me to say.

"I'm yours, Blade,” I breathe against his lips, meaning it with every fiber of my being. “Yours.”

He enters me in one powerful thrust, my body still sensitive. The sudden fullness forces a broken gasp from my lungs as he stretches me, fills me completely. He stills for a moment, allowing me to adjust, his massive arms trembling with the effort of restraint. When he begins to move, it's rougher than before, more urgent—each stroke deep and purposeful. The new angle allows him to hit a spot inside me that sends electric currents racing up my spine.

"Fuck, Sophie," he groans into my neck, his breath hot against my skin. "So tight, so perfect for me."

His powerful hips establish a punishing rhythm, the slick sounds of our joining filling the room along with our ragged breathing. I match his intensity, my nails digging into the hard planes of his back, leaving crescents that mark him as mine just as surely as I am his. My legs wrap around his waist, ankles locking behind his back, drawing him impossibly deeper with each thrust.

I've discovered a wildness inside me I never knew existed—a part of me that responds to his raw, gruff masculinity with equal fervor. I arch up to meet him, rolling my hips against his thrusts, drawing a string of profanities from his lips that somehow sound like poetry.

The pressure builds again, a coiling tension low in my belly. He senses it, reaching between us to circle my sensitive bundle of nerves with his thumb. The dual sensation—his thickness stretching me while his thumb works its magic—sends me spiraling over the edge again. I cry out his name as my inner walls clench around him, pulling him deeper.

My orgasm triggers his own. With a guttural groan that sounds almost pained, he thrusts once more, burying himself to the hilt as his body shudders above mine. I feel the hot pulses of his seed deep inside me. His face contorts in beautiful agony as he empties himself completely.

Afterward, we lie tangled together, my head on his chest, his heartbeat strong and steady beneath my ear. A thin sheen of sweat covers both our bodies, cooling in the morning air. His fingers trace lazy patterns along my spine, raising goosebumps in their wake. The scent of our lovemaking hangs in the air, musky and primal.

"You okay?" he asks softly, a gentleness in his voice that few besides me ever hear.

I nod against his chest, playing with the edge of the tattoo that curls around his ribs. "More than okay."

He kisses the top of my head, his lips lingering there. "I have a surprise for you," he says finally, his voice a deep rumble against my cheek.

I lift my head, curious. "What kind of surprise?”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and he looks a little sheepish, a little uncertain—nervous even!—an expression I might have thought impossible for a man like him.

"Got you a job. Sort of." He pauses, watching my reaction. “Volunteer position at the local Animal Clinic. Three days a week, starting tomorrow. A friend of the club owns it...”

His voice tapers off and I’m so stunned we just stare at each other for several long moments. I’m too emotional to breathe, much less speak.

Finally, I push myself up to look at him properly, searching his face to see if he's serious. "A vet clinic? Really?" My voice catches, emotion welling up so suddenly I can barely contain it.

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