Page 78 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
I want to drag my nose down the hollow between his pecs, trace the muscles and indentation toning his arms, and kiss the maroon birthmark peaking above the hem of his pants.
He peels off my underwear impossibly slowly, caressing my legs up and down. His hands paint a trail of fire on my skin, a warm, scarlet glow left in their wake. His lips engrave sinful praises in my skin, his hot mouth teasing, nibbling,feastingon me until I’m writhing. Marking my neck, my breasts, my belly, my soul.
And I feel like a goddess being worshipped by her king.
Aidan tortures me with delicate, scandalous bruises that will brand me for weeks to come, and the process spurs me on like nothing else, the sweet pressure between my thighs exploding outward as he finally grazes my entrance with his hand.
He sinks one finger inside me, then two, his other palm pressed flat to my belly, grounding my hips to the homemade mattress. I shudder as he dips his head to lick my throbbing flesh, my body ripe for an orgasm that wrecks my chances of keeping his ego his check.
“One,” he grins. “And easy, too.”
“You’re so cocky. I should leave just to spite you.”
“Maybe, but you won’t.”
No, I won’t.
He’s too good at this, and it’sinfuriating.
Aidan is not content with this first,easyvictory and uses my orgasm as a preamble for the next, getting comfortable between my thighs. With a satisfied smirk, he kneads the smooth skin of my thighs and ass until the sensitive ache ebbs. I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth, flustered to find out I’m simply starving for more.
Aidan plays wicked games with his tongue until violent, liberating tremors melt a frozen river inside me, my pleasure gushing out around his fingers. “Two,” the cocky prince hums against my core, drinking it in.
I ice the vines holding my wrists to reach for him, my nails sinking deep in his shoulder.By the spindle.
A surprised groan quakes my throat, and I almost apologize for the mess, but Aidan looks so damn pleased and horny, I figure he meant for it to happen. He slips out of his trousers, not wearing anything underneath, and I let out a lust-filled pant.
“I need you to touch me, Songbird,” he groans quietly. His abs clench as he guides my hand to his cock. “I need to be inside you.”
He’s hard as steel and so, so thick.
I run my fingers from the base to the tip, and his hips jerk forward. “Fuck.”
“Come here.” I spread my legs in invitation, and he sinks down on top of me, our chests bumping in a delicious friction as he lines himself with my entrance.
His previous caress teased and prodded at a hollowness in my belly that’s now wild and insatiable, aching for him. I hold my breath as he pushes all the way in, the delicious stretch almost holy. Our foreheads rest against one another, my body adjusting to his size.
I rock my hips, hungry for him to strive for number three, and scratch deep lines into his back, as eager to brand him as he did me, staking my claim.
“Blessed Flame, you’re not making it easy for me to go slow.”
One corner of my mouth lifts as I graze his chin. “I didn’t ask for slow.”
He exhales and darts his tongue out to touch my lips. “Your wish is my command, Songbird.”
Aidan fucks me as though he’s starving for me body, mind, and soul, and I love every moment of it, gazing up at him, his silhouette framed by a black, endless sky. The chafe of the blanket warms my ass in a maddening, delectable way.
His mood shifts, his control peeled away layer by layer, switching from the measured thrusts of a patient, dedicated lover to a greedy, famished beast. “You’re so wet and tight.” He buries himself deeper with a long, possessive thrust. “I’m going to spenddaysinside you. Paint every inch of your beautiful body with my come until you agree to be mine.”
He’s so turned on by what we’re doing that he can’t quite keep control, flirting with the spiral of a quick, abrupt climax judging by the enraptured look on his face. He holds my legs at the exact angle he craves, and I tighten my walls around him.
“Oh, flaming hell.” He moans darkly, slowing down the pace and palming my ass as if he means to punish me for the intensity of his pleasure. But as he tries to hold off his climax, he hits the same secret spot, over and over again.
A string of desperate whimpers tears from my throat. I can’t hold my noises in, each thrust so perfectly placed as to push me higher and higher without sending me over the edge.
“Come for me hard, Songbird. Show me how much you love my cock.”
While I loved to see him so intent on pleasuring me, I think I prefer this iteration of him. Wild, demanding, and dark.
