Page 29 of Claws for Celebration
“Something supernatural?”
“Something inevitable,” he said carefully, though his panther rumbled with impatience at the understatement.
She pulled him into another kiss, and this one tasted like surrender. Like acceptance. "Show me," she whispered. "Show me what this connection means."
Lucien didn’t need to be asked twice.
He lifted her into his arms, carrying her through the silver-drenched garden. The ancient oak trees above them seemed to bend protectively overhead as golden light pulsed from the protective wards, wrapping them in warmth. Flowers opened out of season. Moira’s magic bloomed around them like a living thing, a reflection of her desire and awakening power.
He laid her down in a bed of enchanted grass and moss, her mahogany curls spilling out like a halo against the silvery green. Her eyes followed him with trust and hunger, and that combination nearly undid him.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice rough, reverent. “Not because of instinct. Because every part of me—beast and man—wants you.”
Her lips curved, soft and shy, but her hands reached for him with bold intent. “Then have me.”
Lucien knelt beside her, letting himself look—really look. Her cardigan was gone, leaving her in a simple camisole and soft cotton skirt, the kind of outfit that did nothing to flaunt and everything to tempt. He eased her glasses from her face and set them carefully aside before leaning in to kiss her again. This one was slow, lingering, his tongue stroking hers in a rhythm meant to tease and taste.
He moved lower, sliding the straps of her camisole down her arms, his mouth following the exposed skin. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured against her collarbone, tongue flickingover the curve there. “Soft everywhere. I want to map every inch of you with my mouth.”
“Then do it,” she whispered, her back arching when his fingers found the clasp of her bra and slid it free.
He bared her breasts slowly, reverently, watching the golden shimmer of her magic flicker brighter with every inch of exposed skin. Her nipples pebbled in the cool night air before he took one into his mouth, sucking gently as his hand caressed the other. Her fingers sank into his hair, tugging as her breath hitched.
“Lucien—oh?—”
The sound of his name on her lips like that, helpless and needy, made his cock throb. He was already hard, painfully so, but he took his time, kissing his way down her ribcage and belly, his tongue dipping into her navel.
“You smell like wildflowers and magic,” he murmured, lifting her hips slightly so he could tug off her skirt and panties in one slow, delicious drag. “And you taste even better.”
Her thighs trembled as he spread them open, revealing her pussy, wet and glistening in the moonlight. He groaned—deep and guttural—at the sight. Her scent filled his lungs, earthy and sweet, and the panther inside him paced with hunger.
Lucien leaned in and licked her slowly, from the bottom of her slit to the very top, tasting her like fine wine. She gasped, her hips arching into his mouth.
“Oh gods—Lucien?—”
He grinned against her pussy and did it again, this time circling her clit with his tongue before flicking over it in rapid strokes. Her magic sparked again, golden threads curling through the air, wrapping around his wrists like she was unconsciously tethering him to her.
“That’s it,” he murmured between strokes. “Let me feel your magic when you come.”
She whimpered and moaned, hands gripping his hair, thighs trembling around his head. He slipped one finger inside her, then two, crooking them just right as he sucked her clit into his mouth.
She came hard, crying out his name, her pussy clenching around his fingers, her magic exploding outward like a pulse of light. He drank in every sound, every tremor, staying with her through every wave of her release until her cries turned to soft gasps.
Lucien crawled back up her body, kissing a trail up her belly, between her breasts, along the column of her throat, until he hovered above her. Her eyes blinked open—dazed, wild, shining.
“I’ve never—” she began, but the words caught in her throat. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”
“You will again,” he promised, brushing his lips over hers. “But now, I need to be inside you.”
She nodded, her hands tugging at the waistband of his pants. “Please.”
He stripped quickly, shedding every last barrier between them until the cool night air kissed his skin and the golden glow of her magic painted his body in soft, flickering warmth. Her eyes swept over him, wide and unblinking, taking in every inch—the lean muscle honed from years of discipline, the dusky ridges of his scars, the way his cock stood heavy and hard, flushed dark with need and glistening at the tip.
Her gaze dropped lower and she sucked in a breath, lips parting in awe. “You’re… big.”
A flicker of nervousness trembled in her voice, but it was wrapped in wonder, not fear. Her fingers moved instinctively, brushing down the plane of his abdomen, stopping just shy of his cock as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to touch something that sacred.
“I’ll go slow,” he said, his voice roughened with the effort of holding back. His instincts howled for more—for now—formine—but he reined them in and sank down between her thighs like a worshiper before an altar. “We’ll go slow, together.”
