Page 77 of Which Witch Is Wicked?
The ache in his soul burned unlike anything he'd ever known. She consumed him. Owned his conscious moments. He considered her in every action, and had damned his existence by dividing his loyalty between his brothers and this one earth witch. If she had any inkling of how much power she held over him, he'd be in deeper trouble than he already was.
"Kiss me,gazelle." He wasn't only asking for a kiss, and by her sharp intake of air she knew it. But he doubted very much that she grasped how hard it was for him to ask and not just take what he wanted, what he needed.
"I shouldn't," she breathed.
"But you will."
"Yes." She buried her hands in his hair and pulled him down to her.
He growled and took her mouth, tightening his grip, afraid she'd somehow get away from him again. His hands crushed the soft fabric of her apricot dress, gathering the material and lifting it until he had to break the kiss to whip it off and over her head. Quickly, he captured her mouth again. His tongue breached her lips, and he kissed her long and hard and deep.
The world's outcome became insignificant. The only thing that mattered in his existence was joining with Tierra again, completing each other, partaking of the paradise that she promised. He'd had no concept that part of him had been missing until he'd lain with her too many months ago.
Deepening the kiss, he kept it slow even though he wanted to rush, wanted to feast. Her soft gasps turned to purrs when he brushed the sides of her sensitive breasts and filled his hands with their newfound weight. The soft whimpering sounds from the back of her throat tempered his need and he marveled in awe at the subtle changes that her body had already made to accommodate the creation of his child.
He'd committed to memory the way she'd looked, felt under him the last time he'd been blessed to have his hands on her bare silken flesh. But now, her breasts were fuller and more sensitive, the nipples darker even in the limited light. He yearned to cherish, to discover what thrilled her, what she desired most, wanting to fulfill each and every need.
He didn't retract his wings, but instead curved them around her and fashioned a feather bed to lay her down upon the sweet summer wildflowers growing within the Standing Stones. Her burgundy hair fired red in the moonlight, splayed against the blackness of his wings with a bewitching contrast that had his heart swelling in emotion he couldn't name.
This was where she was meant to be, within the circle of his arms. Pregnant or not didn't matter. She was his. His match. His mate. And by the gods, it would take more than the end of the world to keep her from him.
Her gasps came faster, her hands clutching at him. Slanting his lips firmly against hers, he made love to her mouth. His tongue plundered, nibbled, and sucked, until her gasps became pants and her body arched in demand against his. Still he held himself in check.
He had to time this perfectly, needed her chanting his name as she took him within this sacred circle of stones. But gods, his blood raced and his desire to be inside her grew until it became painful.
Tearing his mouth from hers, he kissed and nipped where his hands had so reverently caressed. She twisted under him, helpless mewling sounds escaping her, causing his blood to thicken.
She arched under him, begging with her body for him to conquer hers.
His breath hissed between his teeth. He ripped off her lacy underwear and freed himself from his jeans, kicking them off so nothing would be between them.
Flesh to flesh, heart to heart, soul to soul. It would be. Had to be.
Pinning her down with the weight of his body, he positioned himself at her opening, and rubbed his shaft between her wet, silken folds. His eyes closed on a tortured groan at her wetness, proof of her desire for him, her readiness. How he wanted to taste her, carry her essence inside him. He wouldn't last. Not with her offering herself up to him so trustingly. He promised before the moon gave way to the sun, he would. This was only the beginning of how they'd share the passion and wonders of their bodies with each other.
But for now, he must stay the path. There was too much at stake for him not to. He focused on her pleasure with his hands, his mouth, and his body to bring her to a fevered pitch until she was mindless with need and writhed with it.
She begged, and her fingernails bit into his hips, leaving crescent marks to bleed on his flesh. He demanded in a guttural voice he barely recognized as his own, "Say my name."
"Killian."
"Again. My full name. Say it." He stroked the hot tip of his cock along her folds, his thumb sliding and flicking over the apex of her sex. His body strained, and his soul waited breathlessly for her to do what he commanded.
"Killian," she gasped. "Killian Bane."
"Say you take me."
"Yes, take me."
"No, say thatyoutake me," he growled. "All of me."
"I take you. Oh goddess, please, yes, I take you, Killian Bane.Now."
"And I take you, Tierra de Moray."He plunged into her until he was seated as deep as her body would allow. Elation rushed through him like a wave of white heat, and he released a victorious shout he couldn't contain.
Tierra shuddered, contracting around him as she climaxed from his single thrust. Her head thrown back, her neck beautifully arched and offered up for his teeth to bite, her mouth open on a cry of surprise and ecstasy. Letting her ride out her pleasure, he drank in her expression, so similar to earlier when he'd landed them in the Standing Stones, and she'd connected with the earth, her power claiming her as he'd just claimed her.
He gave her a moment to catch her breath and then he took it away again and again.
