Page 30 of Claws for Celebration
He kissed her again, deep and drugging, and as her mouth opened for him, her thighs did too, parting to cradle his hips. The head of his cock nestled against her slick heat, and they both gasped at the contact.
“Lucien…” Her voice trembled, a prayer and a plea wrapped into one.
He braced his arms on either side of her and pressed forward—just the tip at first. Her heat welcomed him instantly, and the velvet clutch of her pussy squeezed him like a warm, wet vice.
“Fuck, Moira,” he groaned, head dropping as his forehead touched hers. “You’re so hot. So tight. Gods, you feel like fucking heaven.”
She whimpered beneath him, her back arching, her eyes wide and dark with disbelief and sensation. “You’re stretching me so much. I—oh, gods—I can feel every inch of you.”
He held himself still, teeth clenched, savoring the exquisite agony of being halfway inside her. Every muscle in his body trembled from the effort of not burying himself to the hilt and taking her completely.
His voice was fraying at the edges of control. “Your body—your magic—it’s all calling to mine.”
He pushed deeper, slowly, inch by inch. Her cunt sucked him in, slick and hot, gripping and yielding all at once. She moaned as her hands gripped his arms, nails digging in.
“Lucien—yes—don’t stop?—”
He bottomed out with a raw, broken sound, their bodies flush, her pussy stretched full around his cock.
“Fuck,” he breathed, savoring the sensation of being fully seated in her. “You’re so full of me. So fucking perfect.”
They stilled together, chest to chest, their ragged breathing mingling, eyes locked. Her magic shimmered and curled around them, painting his skin in delicate runes of golden light.
She whispered, dazed, “I can feel you everywhere. It’s like you’re inside my soul.”
He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he kissed her—slow and reverent—before drawing his hips back, just a few inches, and then pressing forward again, watching her reaction closely.
She gasped, her head falling back as he began to move, slow and deep, the steady roll of his hips deliberate and worshipful. Her pussy gripped him tighter with every stroke, as if her body refused to let him go.
Lucien buried his face in her neck and let himself feel. The tight clutch of her around his cock. The soft, desperate sounds she made every time he filled her. The rhythm of their bodies meeting in harmony older than memory.
Every thrust sent sparks of magic racing along their skin, little arcs of pleasure and energy, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, thrusting deeper, dragging his cock slow and thick along her inner walls. “You’re milking me. Can you feel it? How perfect you are for me?”
“Yes,” she moaned, her legs wrapping around his hips. “Lucien, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
His thrusts quickened, hips snapping forward harder, deeper. Her moans grew more frantic, and the air around them grew heavy with power. The garden pulsed like a living thing, reacting to every movement, every breathless cry.
He kissed her jaw, her throat, the delicate curve beneath her ear where her pulse fluttered like wings. “You undo me,” he said again, voice shaking. “You make me feel like I’m coming apart from the inside out.”
She met every thrust, her body moving with his, slick and soaked, the sound of their bodies joining echoing beneath the canopy of ancient trees. He reached between them, thumb circling her swollen clit as he fucked into her.
Moira’s whole body arched, her mouth falling open in a silent cry. “Lucien—I’m—oh gods?—”
“That’s it,” he growled, fingers moving faster, his thrusts growing ragged. “Come for me. Let me feel you.”
Her climax hit like a supernova. Her pussy clamped down around his cock, spasming in waves as her magic exploded outward, golden light erupting in radiant pulses that crackled like stars. Her cry shattered the silence of the garden, primal and beautiful and full of release.
The sensation of her wrapped around him, gripping, pulsing,claiminghim—sent Lucien over the edge. He thrust once, twice more, and then came with a deep, guttural moan, spilling into her in thick, hot waves. The pleasure dragged him under like a riptide, stealing his breath, blanking his thoughts.
“Fuck—Moira—fuck—” he groaned, rutting into her until the last of it emptied from him, his cock twitching deep inside her as her body clung to him.
They lay there, trembling and wrecked, wrapped in moonlight and magic, their chests heaving in unison.
Her legs were still locked around him, arms clinging to his back, her nails leaving tiny crescents in his skin that felt like they’d be there forever. Her magic still danced along his shoulders, flickering golden and warm, like her body hadn’t yet realized the moment had passed.
Lucien didn’t pull out. Couldn’t. He stayed buried inside her, head bowed against her chest, breath washing over her skin in slow, reverent waves. He felt everything—her heartbeat, her breath, the lingering magic tying them tighter than words ever could.
