Page 51 of The Stygian Crown

“I wasn’t running.”

“You’re always running, Kara.”

She’d ran toward her destiny instead of escaping it. Heat squirmed between her thighs.

He moved closer, and she backed away. They pursued each other around the stone in a slow dance.

“I tried to stop this. The magic eater—it was all for nothing.”

“That drug was a crutch, and you have forgotten the burn as it roars across your skin. I’m pleased you helped me with my keening already. Now I can take my time, make you beg.” He held her gaze with feral yellow eyes, the heat banked in their depths promising carnal delights.

Inviting Logan back in, sleeping with him again, would mean he could hurt her. She was reluctant to relinquish that power, the safety of indifference. Not that she had ever managed indifference with him.

His eyes dipped down her chest, and he licked his lips. Kara followed his gaze, dismayed to find that she was halfway out of her dress, the sleeves and bodice hanging down from her waist, exposing her breasts and tight nipples. She had no recollection of undressing.

She stopped moving away from him, and Logan stilled.

“Strip and get on the altar,” he said in a dark rumble.

Kara forced the dress down over her hips, ignoring the pop of stitches and buttons.

She slid onto the altar and crawled toward him on her knees. He was still fully clothed, his eyes hungry.

Logan curled his hand around the nape of her neck and started to massage. “Your skin is so hot. Your eyes liquid gold. I could drown in those eyes.”

Kara wanted him to part her thighs and touch her, wanted him to loosen the control he always kept so tight. She was burning from the outside in.

He lay one cool gloved hand against her cheek, and she pressed into it like a cat, seeking relief from the flames licking at her skin. Sweat glistened on her brow.

He trailed a finger down her sweat-streaked abdomen. “You make a pretty sacrifice.”

Kara spread her legs apart as his fingers went lower, silently begging him to touch her.

“You need this,” he said, cupping her sex in his gloved hand and squeezing. The texture of smooth leather against the softest, most sensitive part of her was salacious, erotic. She wanted him to part her lips and drag his finger across her clit. She started grinding against his hand, and he pulled away. She whined in her throat.

He tugged off his gloves and pulled his shirt overhead, muscles rippling along his skin. Then he slowly unlaced his leather bracers, baring himself to her fully, and let them fall to the ground. His mark glowed in the dark, and a thrill coursed through her. He bared himself for her, body and soul, stripping off the armor he wore for all others.

But rather than sate her need, Logan went back to teasing. His head fell to her breasts, and he tugged on her nipples with his teeth until they were taut and aching. He swiped one finger through her folds, purring in satisfaction when he felt how wet she was. Her nerves jangled at the brush against her hyper-sensitive clit. Then the infuriating man went back to smoothing his hands across her skin, massaging the space where her ass met her thighs with strong, deep fingers. He periodically stroked his thumb between her legs, letting tension coil inside her, then backed off as she neared release.

Kara thrashed, pressing herself into him. “Please,” she groaned. “What do you want from me?” Her mark throbbed as insistently as her core.

“Ask me for it, Kara. Say you’re mine.”

He wanted her to admit defeat. She growled and gnashed her teeth. She dove a hand between her legs, determined to finish herself off if he was going to deny her. It would not solve the keening, but at least she would have some relief.

He caught her hand and pinned it above her head, his dangerous body stretched out over her. “Tonight is mine,” he growled. “Youare mine.”

He slid back and traced his lips along the arches of her feet, her calves, her inner thighs, the patch of hair on her mound. Everywhere but where she needed them. She fell back against the stone, spread her legs as wide as she could, and drew her feet up to the edge of the altar, presenting for him. He blew air on her exposed clit, and she shuddered and bowed her hips towards him. Tears leaked down her cheeks, the skeletons dancing overhead blurring. Her nails dug into the unforgiving stone. She was mindless putty in his hands. “Logan,” she moaned.

Logan pulled back and stood. He unlaced his breeches and pulled his stiff cock out, fisting his hand over it with quick jerks.

Kara sat up on her elbows and stared at him, at his swollen member, red and angry and leaking precum. He was not nearly so unaffected as he pretended to be. She wanted to yell at him to stop, to save all of it for her.

Logan wrapped his hands around her hips and jerked her to the edge of the altar. Her skin scraped against the stone’s rough surface. Amber eyes stared into hers as he slid his cock between her inner lips, coating himself in her juices. He rubbed the swollen head against her clit. Kara’s neck and back arched as sensation flooded her system, threatening to overwhelm her.

She forced her head up, staring down at the erotic portrait of him rocking against her, parting her soaking folds, threatening to slide home every time he thrust. Pleasure built. Kara neared her peak, muscles tightening as she rode the high. Just as she approached the edge, he pulled away with a curse.

“Goddess you drive me crazy.” He was panting, his cock jerking in the air, as eager for release as she was.

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