Page 116 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
“Tell me not to,” he breathes against my inner thigh, the husky demand rippling across my sensitive flesh. “Tell me this is real, and not just some curse or spell.”
“It’s real.”
“Where did I taste you for the first time?” he repeats.
I quake all over, tugging on his hair. “At the cabin. On St. John’s Eve.”
“How hard did you come, then?”
“Harder than I’d ever come before.”
He grins wickedly. “Not as hard as you’ll come now. Do you want me to touch you, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Yes!”
Aidan pushes the lace of my underwear aside. He sinks one finger inside me, then two, and alternates between hard strokes and slow circles as though he feels jealous of his past self, competing with a version of himself he feels too distant from.
My belly cramps at how beautiful he is. If he flicked his tongue across the aching bundle of nerves, I’d simply die.
“Look at me. I need to make sure you mean it.”
The eye contact feels scandalous as Aidan drags his thumb across my sensitive flesh. The friction between the soaked lace and the hard pad of his thumb coaxes a gasp out of me with a heavy, delightful stroke. He darts his tongue out to touch his bottom lip, his amber eyes darker and more impatient than I remember.
He licks me over the lace, the rub of his tongue hot and soft. My head falls to the wall at my back as he dives for a deeper taste.
Aidan pins me in place with both hands as he feasts on me, drawing out long, breathless praises out of my lungs.
I curl my hands in his hair, my lips parting in shock as I come hard, grinding myself against his hungry tongue without shame.
I shake all over, squeezing my lids shut.
“That was fucking beautiful. I want to see it again,” he says on a low growl.
I claw at his shoulders. “Stand up. I need you inside me.”
“I can’t. Not until I vet your story further.” He arches a brow. “Isn’t this better than a prison cell?”
“Depends if you’re in there with me,” I deadpan.
The corners of his mouth quirk. “I like how you think, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Call me Beth, please. Like you used to.”
He leans in for a long, intense kiss, before finally saying, “Alright.Beth.”
I cup a hand over his hot, hard cock and start to lower to my knees, but he squeezes my hips to keep me standing. “Don’t.”
“Are you sure?” I tease. “You used to love my mouth.”
A dark chuckle grates his throat. “Ah, hells. I don’t doubt that at all. But I can’t right now; I have to keep some semblance of control over this clusterfuck.” His eyes burn into me tenfold as he growls, hungry for more and yet denying himself the release he needs. “But mark my words. Once your story checks out, I will spend an entire day inside your mouth.”
I raise my brows, surprised by his restraint. “You’re more patient than you used to be.”
“Argh.” He stumbles backward with a grimace of pain, curling onto himself.
“What’s happening?” I ask quickly. “Are you hurt?” My eyes scan him from head to toe, trying to figure out what went wrong.
Fire burns through the top of his trousers, and the fabric covering the Mark of the Gods blackens and flakes to ashes.
