Page 136 of Flame and Sparrow

“God of Fire and Forging and Persuasion…and what else, I wonder?”

“Why do you want to know? Are you thinking of praying to me again, as you mentioned last night?”

“You were the one praying atmyaltar last night, if I recall correctly.”

“Very true.” He buried his face into my neck, breathing me in, pressing his mouth against my skin and flicking his tongue against my pulse. “And now I would love to perform my morning rituals, if you don’t mind.”

I meant to protest.

Ishouldhave protested.

Then his fingers reached around my front and slipped between my legs, and I no longer wanted to do anything except surrender to him, just as I had yesterday.

His touch was lazy, almost, compared to last night, but he still knew precisely what he was doing; even half-asleep, he was still talented with his fingers, alternating between feather-light taps and deliberate, massaging touches until I was slick and pulsing with need.

He urged my legs apart. As I spread open for him, he stretched me even wider with one of his large hands, slipping just the tip of a finger inside as he did. He teased with that tip, dipping it in and out, playing at my most sensitive nerve endings for a minute before pushing deeper.

I arched my back and clenched my legs around his hand, and his hips lifted in response, pressing his hard length between my thighs. Feeling it twitch and throb drew a needy little cry from my lips. My head tilted back, and his lips fell upon my exposed throat, kissing even harder than before, his tongue lashing and teeth nipping hard enough that it would likely leave a mark.

And Gods help me, Iwantedit to leave a mark.

He rolled me onto my back, and his eyes never left mine as he slid his pants down and freed himself. It looked as massive as it had felt, and as I watched him stroke the length of it, every part of me buzzed with need.

“Did you dream about me last night, my Sparrow?” He leaned over me, bringing his lips to mine, supporting himself on one powerful arm while the other rose and fell with more slow, deliberate strokes of himself. “About what it would feel like to have my cock between your legs, rather than my fingers? Rather than my tongue?”

I tried to reply, but my words became nothing more than a soft moan that rose into a whimper as his erection brushed across my thighs before trailing up to my center.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He kissed me again before settling back on his knees, pinning me between them. “We’ll get there soon enough.” His finger caressed my sex, circling through the added wetness he’d brushed onto me. “I wanted you to feel my tongue, and my touch, first. Just so you know I can make you come for me no matter what I use.”

And then he started to prove his point, slipping his finger inside of me and thrusting deep, curling against my inner walls with increasing speed and pressure. Another finger soon followed, while his thumb continued to work against the outside, rubbing and gently pulling, opening me more completely.

I’d woken up with a ready ache between my legs, aroused by dreams I only vaguely remembered having while in his arms, and it didn’t take long before I felt another release building, nearly as powerful as the one he’d given me last night.

It was what his other hand was doing that truly sent me over the edge—the way he had not stopped pleasuring himself even as he took care of my need.

My gaze flashed from his hands up to his face, and I saw something I’d never expected to see—a god kneeling before me, a picture of power and perfection coming undone in the early morning light. It was one of the most beautiful and most arousing things I’d ever seen.

I clamped my legs tighter around his fingers, urging them deeper, harder, and with a gasping cry I came completely undone.

I started to curl up as the powerful waves of pleasure overtook me, snapping the last chains of my self-control, but he pressed a hand to my chest and held me in place. “Stay on your back for me, Wildfire.”

The low growl of a command sent another shock of release rumbling through me. I did as he said, stretching out on my back with my hands lifting above me, fingertips curling against the headboard.

“Just like that. Good…” He trailed off into a curse as I arched my back once more, letting my thighs graze his erection. He pressed me down into the bed and leaned over me, one hand roaming across my skin, pushing my shirt up to fully expose my breasts while his other hand moved furiously up and down his length.

He cupped one of my breasts, squeezing it, letting his thumb and forefinger circle my nipple and pinch and tease it into a hardened peak.

His touches soon grew rougher. Wilder. I lifted my hips again, pressing my still-throbbing center against him, and with a roar of pleasure he followed my release with his own, painting my bare chest and stomach in hot, glistening threads of white.

Once he’d fully emptied himself, he planted a slightly shaking arm on either side of my body. He leaned down, resting his forehead against mine for a moment. The weight of him was comforting. Steadying. It felt like everything I needed in that moment.

He planted a soft kiss on my cheek before leaning back. He grabbed a throw blanket, used it to clean off my stomach and chest. Then he tossed it aside and settled back on his knees again, still pinning me down, but just studying me now.

In the past, this would have been the point where I reached for the covers and pulled them across myself—not out of shame, but out of some deep need to regain control. I’d never liked the vulnerability of this moment, when I came back to my senses and the fullness of what I’d done—what I’d given—hit me. It frightened my sensible mind to think of giving up so much control.

But for some reason, I wasn’t afraid of the way Dravyn was staring at me.

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