Page 82 of Tempting the Fae Lord
“Crazy man.”
“One could argue it’s you who’s gone mad at present.”
“One could.” I drag him back in and press my hard cock against his thigh. “But why argue when we have better things to do?”
He stares, wide-eyed, and I watch him back just as intently. His pupils dilate, and his lips part.
I’ve got him. He’s mine.
Ezra’s kiss is ravenous. Claiming. Hard and possessive, with teeth and tongue and little sounds from the back of his throat that I’ll treasure from this night forward.
He grabs my bloody clothes, ripping them in his haste. Winter ghosts over my bare skin, followed by his hands. Both bring a surge of pleasure in their wake.
One moment I’m kissing him as though my life depends on it, and the next I’m backed against the wide trunk of a tree, pinned between its bark at my spine and Ezra at my chest.
To my utter delight, he slides to his knees and tugs open my breeches. “Can I?”
“Please.”
He pulls my cock free, already hard and throbbing, and gives it a firm stroke. “You have no idea how much I want you.”
I might have some idea. “I want you too.”
He glances up, eyes dark and burning with desire. There’s no preamble. No teasing. He stretches his lips wide and takes me into his mouth.
Rapture.
Cool, wet suction, and his hands on my thighs squeezing the muscles.
I bite the inside of my cheek in an effort not to thrust.
The bark digs in against my shoulder blades, like nails scratching the skin. I relish the crisp twinge of pain.
Ezra pulls back a little so the sensitive head of my cock rests heavily on his tongue. He stills. I ogle. He’s gorgeous like this. Open for me. Lips slick with spit. He’s staring at me as if to say, “Well?”
Smoldering ashes, he wants me to thrust.
If that’s what he’s after, who am I to deny his wish?
I grip two thick fistfuls of silky black hair and position his head just so. Then I stop holding back. I fuck into his mouth like I want to. Like I need to.
He moans for me.
The vibrations feel euphoric around my shaft as I slide in and out, taking the pleasure he offers.
Cool fingers trace my sac. He cups my balls and rolls them gently. A careful tug. A barely there squeeze. All while I pump my hips and pet his hair and lose myself in every intimate caress.
I climb to the edge, pressure building, thighs trembling.
“Please,” I whimper.
He hums in response.
I gasp. I’m there. I should warn him. I should?—
He grabs my ass and yanks me in. I come down his throat with a groan, losing myself in lust, muscles spasming. Shattered.
In my bliss, I’ve fisted his hair hard, trapping him where I need him until every last bit of pleasure is wrung out of me.
