Page 77 of Ash and Feather

Her hold around my neck tightened as her head tilted back. I took her by the hips and lifted her slightly, just enough to give myself room to push harder, faster.

She cried out with my first full, fast thrust. The sound was like the first taste of a divine, perfect fruit, leaving me desperately hungry for more. The fire inside me roared, determined to meet hers more completely.

A few more thrusts. A symphony of beautiful sounds cascaded from her mouth. Her back arched with increasingly perfect timing to meet my pounding movements, and a dangerously feral need began to rise within me.

I lowered her onto her back, keeping myself buried deep inside her.

She reached a hand toward the pinnacle of her thighs, fingers sweeping over the dampness we’d created. Her touch grazed my erection as she moved it more furiously against her sex. I matched her quick, needy caresses with faster, deeper thrusts. Her eyes soon fluttered shut, and she started to stretch out her hands, abandoning her sense of control, ready to surrender.

I caught her wrist and held her hand in place. “Keep touching yourself.”

She did, her eyes flashing open and fixing on me. Her stare was deliberate. Her touch was equally so, each increasingly fervent stroke pushing her closer to orgasm.

“That’s it. That’s my goddess.”

Her breath caught at the low rumble of my voice. She stroked even harder. Faster.

I lifted her legs, hooking her ankles over my shoulders, elevating her lower back and taking advantage of the angle to drive more deeply into her.

She kept her fingers moving over her center. Her other hand soon joined in. The position pressed her breasts together between her arms, and I was forced to amend my earlier thought—she was even more fucking beautiful now than she’d been with my cock in her mouth.

I tossed my remaining restraint aside and gripped her legs more tightly, rocking harder against her until I felt her climax building, her body shaking from the effort of trying to hold on to the last shreds of control.

I leaned over her, pushing even more completely inside, leaving no space between our bodies. No space forcontrol. As I pinned her down, her hands fell to her sides, fingers clawing into the ground. Fire bloomed in her palms. The scent of smoke and scorched earth enveloped us.

I brought my lips to her neck, to the sensitive spot just below her earlobe. The slightest pressure from my tongue made her hips lift and her back arch. I met the movement with one last, powerful thrust. She came as we collided more deeply, her cry echoing through my body, my soul, sinking in and drawing my own release in answer.

We remained pressed together, sweat-slicked bodies heaving for breath, for several moments after. She continued to move beneath me, slowly twisting and turning, wringing out every last drop of pleasure. The air hummed with heat and hints of our still restless, aroused magic.

Once the world ceased its spinning, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her upright as I settled back into a sitting position.

She cupped her hands against my face, holding herself steady as she pressed her lips to mine. Everywhere we touched still felt electric, tingling, sore in the most pleasant sense of the word.

A cocoon of warm magic settled around us as we drifted down from the heights we’d reached. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead to hers. She continued to kiss me, her lips dragging lazy, savoring paths over mine.

“You know,” she said, finally pulling her face away from mine, “these sort of endings make the training sessions a lot more bearable.”

I chuckled. “Agreed. I find it’s always good to end on a positive note.”

She snorted at this before crawling away and reaching for her clothing.

We dressed, mostly in satisfied silence save for the teasing lecture she gave me about ripping her clothing. Luckily, with a few minor adjustments, these things remained wearable enough—at least for the trip back to the palace.

As she finished fixing her attire into place, her back was to me, her gaze fixed on some distant point on the horizon. I wondered what she was thinking, but I didn’t try to pry my way into her thoughts.

Her cheeks were still flushed with the heat of our encounter when she looked back to me. Her hair fell in wild waves around her face. Her eyes seemed an even bolder green than usual. I exhaled slowly, trying to keep my balance.

She was fire and fierceness, my brightness and breath.

She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

She was also talking—I saw her lips moving, though the words didn’t register in my mind right away.

She fixed me with a wry look as she stepped forward and smoothed the front of my shirt, which was still rumpled from being so hastily discarded.

“Are you even listening to me?”

I gave her a roguish smile. “Sorry. I was distracted.”

---