Page 65 of Of Blooming Embers
She bit her lip as her hands stroked over my pectorals, tracing the jagged outline of my scar.
Her head tilted, and her messy braid spilled over her front. “It’s shaped like?—”
“You’re the only little star that matters.” My breath hitched, heart slamming against said scar as my fingers unravelled the fiery plait. I loved her wild hair.
I shifted the loose strands behind her, and she smiled tenderly, leaning over to place a kiss on the thickened skin above my heart before trailing her lips and tongue up my chest.
Over my neck and jaw.
She wrapped her hand behind my nape, scraping her nails into the line of my hair as her slick core rocked against my hardness.
My muscles went rigid, and a raging need burned over my flesh, pulsing up my length. My fingers found the hem of her tunic, and I pulled it over her, lifting her arms.
She gathered me close again as I wrapped my arms around her, her full breasts pressing into my chest. I kissed the corner of her lips as my palms slid over her shoulder blades. “You’re so damned beautiful, it hurts.”
She smiled as we fell into each other’s eyes. “Let me take the hurt away,” she murmured as she lifted herself onto her knees and then reached between our bodies. Her hand guided my cock to her entrance, and she slowly sank onto my length, never breaking eye contact.
Her sweet, aching body gripped me, and I swear to the Ancients, her soul poured into me. It felt as though a string latched onto my rib directly from hers, and our heartbeats vibrated along it in time with one another.
The muscles of my neck and back tensed as her warm, wet heat squeezed my cock. I clutched her waist as she rose, nails digging into my straining biceps.
I wanted nothing more than to toss her down and fuck her tight cunt until she screamed my name.
Only my name.
Ever again.
But I also wanted the sweet torture. Because it meant she was in control, and she needed to know she had that power, not only over me, but over herself.
Asteria smirked, slamming herself onto my lap, my cock filling her to the hilt. She moaned, heat blushing over her chest and neck.
My fingers clamped, urging her to keep moving as her eyes glazed. She set a steady rhythm, her hips undulating against mine, her warm core squeezing around me, pumping me.
Mounting desire rolled across her features and spilled from her parted lips in fitful, breathy sounds. I pinched her nipple with my thumb and forefinger, and her head craned back, a moan vibrating within her as she moved faster.
“That’s it, my star. Take what’s yours.” I leaned into her, latching my lips on her neck, licking and nipping at her flesh while she convulsed around my manhood; my name ripping from her throat.
A throbbing pulsed from the base of my spine and through my cock as her cunt spasmed around me like a fist.
In uncontrollable ripples, my orgasm tore from me, light bursting in my chest as I buried my eyes against her neck, my groan muffled by her damp flesh.
Dazed and sated, she drooped against me, cradling my head against her, her fingers clutching at my hair. I didn’t dare move, for I feared the string connecting the bony cages over our hearts would snap if we parted.
For several quiet moments we breathed one another in, the cool air drying our sweat and leaving goosebumps behind.
At last, her whispered word shuddered against my cheek, harmonizing with the thundering beat of her blood.
One word that sounded suspiciously like “mine.”
26
EVERYTHING
GAVREL
Acontented stillness carried us into the next balmy day. Warm sunrays shifted over our naked bodies as we stayed in bed all morning, curled in each other’s arms. Though I’d feasted on every inch of her to the melody of her breathy moans—my name rasping from her lips—I still hungered for more as we clung to one another.
I craved her taste.
