Page 104 of Kissing Potions and Elves
LYRION
Icarry Isobel over the threshold, her laughter musical as it dances along the quiet hallway. She wraps her arms tighter around my neck, her breath warm against my skin as I climb the staircase. My pulse quickens as her lips trail along my jaw, her gentle kisses igniting a fire in my veins.
“Careful,” I murmur, my voice rough with need. “We’ve not even made it to the bedroom yet.”
Instead of heeding my gentle warning, she traces her tongue over the tip of my ear. A low groan escapes me and I nearly stumble, only barely catching us on the banister before we fall.
Still holding her, I straighten, but she cups the back of my neck and pulls my lips down to hers in a passionate kiss. Her delicate fingers find my ears again. “Isobel,” I growl low in my throat.
“Can I not kiss my husband?” She smiles against my mouth. “Itisour wedding night.”
She kisses me again and my nostrils flare as the unmistakable scent of her arousal threads through the air. Herscent is much sweeter than normal, threatening to overwhelm my senses. It’s the fertile peak of her cycle.
We already talked about this and she decided she wants to forgo any moon tea to prevent conception.
She nips lightly at the tip of my ear with her flat human teeth, and I drop to my knees and cover her on the stairs. Intense need burns through me as I seal my mouth over hers.
“Lyrion,” she whispers breathlessly between heated kisses. “I want you.”
Her words dissolve into a moan as I slide my hand up her inner thigh and drag my fingers through her already slick folds, finding that small bundle of nerves at the cleft that makes her entire body light up with pleasure.
I move down her body and push her skirts up to her waist. With a flick of my claws, I slice away the scrap of silk between her thighs and then bury my face between them.
“Lyrion, please,” she breathes, arching against me. “Don’t stop.”
A deep growl rumbles in my chest as I drag my tongue through her folds. Her taste is intoxicating—warm honey and desire. She gasps as I concentrate on the small pearl of flesh at the apex.
I drape my arm across her hips, holding her in place as she writhes beneath me.
She runs her fingers through my hair and when she caresses the sensitive tips of my ears, I nearly climax. “Stars above, Isobel,” I rasp, “if we don’t get to the bedroom right now, I’ll take you right here.”
“Then hurry,” she whispers, teeth grazing over my ear again as I lift her into my arms. Heat floods my body, and my vision momentarily blurs as I stumble again, bracing her against the hallway wall, pressing my aching stav insistently against her core through the layers of fabric between us.
Somehow, I manage to stumble into the bedroom, holding her close and slamming the door shut behind me.
Intense need floods my veins and I push her back against the wall, her delicious scent flooding my senses, driving me beyond reason.
“Lyrion, please,” she breathes between kisses. “I need you.”
I fumble urgently with my pants, freeing myself even as I shove her skirts back up to her waist. I position myself at her entrance and her gaze locks with mine as I thrust deep, sheathing myself to the hilt.
The tight clasp of her silken heat surrounds me, her body yielding and molding to mine as if she were made for me alone. Every thrust drags me deeper, pulling me closer to the edge.
“You’re perfect, Isobel,” I rasp. “My beautiful wife. My mate.”
She moans into my mouth, her fingers gripping my shoulders as I slip the neckline of her dress down, freeing her breasts. My mouth immediately closes over a taut, rosy peak, my tongue laving hungrily over the hard, sensitive bead.
Her fingers move again to my ears, massaging them, driving my pleasure even higher.
“Isobel,” I growl as my knot begins to swell. Primal instincts surge through me, the desire to fill her with my essence is all-consuming.
She gasps, her head falling back against the wall, exposing her delicate throat.
The need to claim her, to make her mine in every possible way floods my veins as I drop my head to the curve of her neck and shoulders and pierce her flesh with my fangs, marking her as my mate.
Now, every male will know without doubt that she is mine and mine alone. And I am hers.
She cries out my name, the small muscles of her channel flexing and quivering around my stav as my knot expands even more.
