Page 80 of Stolen
She meets me with heat and hunger, arms winding around my neck as she opens for me.
Her lips, her heart, her soul.
Gods, she tastes like hope.
Like fire and sweetness and something I’ve never had but always wanted.
My hands slide down her back, gripping her plump ass with a need I no longer try to hide.
I want her close. Closer.
Until there is no space, no air, no past between us.
Only now. Only this.
I growl deep in my chest, casting wards to shut the dining room off from servers and attendants.
I need her now, and I will not share a single breath this woman takes with anyone else.
Not when we are like this.
Not when we are together.
Jules moans into the kiss, the sound guttural and soft at once.
My stomach tightens and my blood roars.
Her hands explore, threading through my hair, coasting over my horns—naughty minx.
“Not yet,” I growl, nipping her lip.
She whimpers, dragging them down to the runes etched across my skin.
They glow beneath her touch, responding to her as if they recognize her as mine.
As if the magic of Nightfall itself bends to her now, because she ismy viyella.
Mine.
I lift her up, wrapping her legs around my waist as she gasps in surprise. Her back hits the wall, but she barely feels it.
My magic cushions the impact, casting a whisper of wind and warmth between her skin and the stone.
Then I drop to my knees.
“What are you—fuck, Alaric!” she moans, voice catching as her dress evaporates in a shimmer of spell-light, falling away like mist.
I wrench her thighs open with reverent force, pressing kisses along the soft, trembling skin before fastening my mouth to her dripping pussy.
Gods, she’s divine.
I moan into her as I lick through her folds, tasting her sweetness, her salt, her surrender.
Every flick of my tongue is worship. Every breath she takes, a sacred sound.
She gasps as I circle her clit, then dips her hips toward me with helpless instinct.
Her channel tightens as I slide my tongue deeper, seeking the source of her heat.
