Page 46 of The Fallen
Yes.I will burn the world down to find him.
I turn to face Asenath, his hand sliding along my body until it’s cupping my ass. He squeezes once but then just lets his hand rest there, his crimson eyes regarding me patiently. It’s like he already knows what I’m about to say.
“You give me your word that we can find him if we complete the binding?”
“I can’t do that,” he replies sadly.
Disappointment and anger crash through me, but I fight them back to let him finish.
“There has never been a three-way binding. It shouldn’t be possible, but I can feel Ben just as I can feel you. I don’t know if we need him to complete the binding or if it will be enough with just the two of us. I don’t know if our connection to him will be as strong as to each other. All I can offer is a chance that it will be enough to bring him home to you.”
Hope. He’s offering me hope. Even if it’s tentative, it’s the best I have right now.
I nod, swallowing thickly. All my training is telling me to run, but the open honesty on his face — and the terror of what Ben is enduring at the hands of a psychopath — is enough to say to hell with it.
His power brushes against me, a warmth that makes me breathe faster as heat coils low in my stomach. Lust, but not the overpowering inferno that it can be. It’s gentle, the caress of a lover on a lazy afternoon or a late-night kiss after a long day.
His hand moves, sliding beneath the waistband of my boxers. His touch is gentle as his finger slides down the crease of my ass. My breath hitches as he circles my hole, pressing down just enough that I wiggle against him in anticipation. But he doesn’t rush, even though I grind my hips against him impatiently.
He leans forward, his lips brushing against mine in a gentle kiss. They are soft and when I brush my tongue against the seam of his mouth he opens for me, allowing me to explore him.
Except I don’t want gentle.
I crush my lips against his, shoving my tongue as deep into his mouth as I can while I push against his shoulders, trying to get him to roll onto his back. He pulls away from me, a smile curving his lips.
“Is that how it’s going to be, little minx?” Heat flares in his eyes as he moves us, but instead of me straddling his waist, I’m on my back, his body pushing me into the mattress.
And he is still very much naked.
He’s already sporting a semi and it’s lying heavily against my lower stomach. Fuck, he’s not even fully hard and he already looks to be six or more inches. Definitely a shower, rather than a grower. And the girth of the damn thing is enough to give me anxious butterflies. Not to mention the ridges and little nubs trialing down its length.
“Touch me, little minx. I promise it won’t bite.”
I raise my eyebrows at that. “Not biting I’m worried about. Don’t think I’m ready to take on the Great American Challenge just yet,” I reply breathlessly.
He moves his hips languidly, that massive dick rubbing over mine, those ridges and nubs doing strange things to my thought process. Jesus, it should not feel this good.
He tilts his hips again, his dick pointing toward the sky as he continues to grind against my crotch. My boxers can’t hide the raging erection I’m sporting, a wet spot already forming at the tip. But there’s something about watching that giant gray dick moving up and down between my legs that has me reaching out, my fingers hesitantly brushing against him.
He shudders above me, head falling forward as I run my fingers over his smooth skin, already slick with rivulets of pre-cum.
Biting my lip, I wrap my fist around his shaft. Holy shit, he’s so thick there has to be at least an inch of space between my fingers and thumb. I stroke him slowly, feeling all those extra sensations along his length. Goosebumps erupt over my skin at the thought of feeling all that inside me, catching on my rim and scraping my inner walls. Of all those ridges sliding against my prostate.
I grip him a little tighter.
Asenath moans, his hips jerking forward and I audibly gulp when that bulge at the base of his dick meets my hand. I doubt I can take his full length, much less get. . .knotted? But I can’t deny the fact that I get breathless at the thought of it. Of feeling myself stretch over all that thickness, getting locked together as the tentacle things at the very base of him tease my rim.
My dick jerks, precum drenching my boxers, and my face heats up at Asenath’s husky chuckle. Damn him and his ability to make me blush like an awkward teenager.
“There’s lube in my nightstand. We need to do this before common sense comes back to me,” I say, letting him go.
He gives me a smirk, leaning down to lick a trail up my throat until he can capture my earlobe between his teeth.
“We don’t need lube, little minx. My kind make our own.”
I subtly rub my fingers together. The precum that covers my hand is still wet, that gliding slickness that I associate with the high-end lube.
Before I can overthink it, I shimmy out of my boxers, my dick slapping against my stomach, pre-cum leaking from the slit. Asenath presses his lips to mine, and I jerk when his hands slide under my thighs, urging them to part.
