Page 8 of Pain

“Take off your bra,” he ordered, his gaze and tone leaving me absolutely no room to refuse. My spine snapped straight, and I reached behind me to unclasp my bra, allowing my breasts to spill forward.

Now I was in nothing but my underwear.

His hands came up to rest on my hipbones, and he guided me to start rocking against him again. His left hand trailed up my side until his thumb brushed against the ink of my purple rose and skull tattoo. Every stroke was like he was brushing that thumb across my clit, making me tremble with unbridled need.

I knew it was magic, but I still kept asking, “How?” in my brain.

How could he touch me in one place, but I felt it in an entirely different place?

Biting my lip, I rested my hands behind me on his thighs because I couldn’t lean forward and rest them on his stomach. His quads were hot, tight steelbeneath my fingertips while his cock was like a rod of iron, fresh from the blacksmith’s coals. He continued to stroke my tattoo with one hand while his other hand meandered between us and beneath the cotton of my underwear to where I was soaking wet and so damned close.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his lips parting slightly. “I can’t wait to be inside you, My Queen. You’re utter perfection.” With both hands, he snapped his fingers and just like that, two pink flames—the same shade of pink as the highlighters I used to use in high school—ignited over my nipples, dancing and flickering. A new, intense wave of pleasure rushed through me, but it was when that same sensation started happening between my legs and small pink flames peeked out around his hand beneath my underwear, that the building climax inside of me really started to take shape.

Until now, I’d been pushing it off as best I could, eager to prolong the experience. But it was like Maxar was determined to burn my resolve to a crisp and push me into sweet oblivion.

A light mist of sweat broke out along my forehead and chest, and my heart hammered wildly in my ears as I rocked back and forth over his cock and his fingers and the flames did their skilled, magical work all over my body. My clit throbbed, my nipples hardened to tight points, and my lower belly tingled and tightened as the pressure built in every muscle like a volcano gearing up to devastate an entire island.

“Maxar,” I pleaded, though it came out as more of a whimper.

“Not yet, My Queen.”

“Please.” Now my words were coming out as sobs.

“Open your eyes, Omaera. Look at me. Watch me.”

My eyes flew open, but I struggled to focus. Every ounce of energy and concentration was focused onnotcoming. On waiting until Maxar said I could. Because hell, if I didn’t want to please him. My pleasure was his pleasure, and after everything he’d been through, after everything he was going through, all I wanted to do for him was to take away his pain and bring him pleasure.

Our eyes locked and his amber flames lured me in like a spellbound moth. I couldn’t look away. We could have been in a room of a thousand people, and Iwouldn’t have known—or cared.

“Do you feel me, My Queen?”

I nodded, still unable to look anywhere but at his eyes on his beautiful, roguish face.

“Imagine this, but better, when we are bonded. When I’m inside of you. I am yours, My Queen. Whenever you’re ready.”

My lips parted, but no words came out. I just kept rocking against him, my body a maelstrom, my brain short-circuiting, and my soul a thread away from completely unraveling.

Fresh, powerful intensity burned in his eyes. “Come, Omaera.” Then the flames on my nipples grew in size, and became a darker shade of pink, as I’m sure the one on my clit did too. Pain and pleasure mixed into an indecipherable melange of pure bliss as everything inside of me exploded.

I held his gaze for as long as I could, the bourbon flames increasing the euphoria inside of me, but ultimately, it was too much; it was all too much, and I had to shut my eyes and give over to the rest of my senses. My moans and whimpers filled the room, drowned out only by the thundering of my pulse in my ears. I could smell my arousal, and when I swept my tongue across my lip, I tasted blood. Only then did I realize I’d been biting down so hard on my bottom lip that I’d punctured it.

The orgasm continued longer than I could even fathom, instantly blending into another one as the flames on my nipples heated them to just beyond the point of warmth to almost too hot. But I liked the pain. It was almost like hot wax being dripped onto one of the most sensitive parts of my body.

I’m not sure how long or how many orgasms I had, but by the time the final one receded, I was exhausted. My muscles trembled from being so tight for so long, and I could barely open my eyes.

Sweetly, Maxar pulled his hand from my underwear and helped me slide down to his side, where I instantly curled into his warm embrace, making sure to keep my palm on his chest and my cheek on his shoulder. I didn’t need a blanket when I was with this radiator wrapped around me.

“Sleep, My Queen,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ve got you.”

I kissed his chest and snuggled in tighter. “And I’ve got you … my mage.”

CHAPTER THREE

Maxar

Even though my guts were practically hanging outside my body, I couldn’t have been a happier or more content fucking psycho if I even tried.

Up until now, I’d respectfully hung back when it came to wooing my mate. A lot was thrown at her in a short amount of time, and she was figuring things out to the best of her abilities and in her own way. I knew better than to push. Drak was doing that, and he was pissing her off at every fucking turn.

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