Page 65 of The Child of Rue Royale
“Needy girl.” He sighs, looking up, taking the other nipple in his mouth as electricity alights across my skin. The way he sucks, the intensity of his tongue has me grinding against his lap, craving the sweet friction his erection offers.
“That’s it!” he announces, gently sliding me off him and getting out of the hot tub. Pulling a towel from a bin, he tells me to stand, and I do, covering my chest with my hands as he pulls the towel around me.
He means business now, I can tell by the determination in his eyes, how his jaw clenches and I can’t help but smile as he guides me up the stairs of the tree house, and it’s like we’re in the clouds. “Oh, Bastian,” I say my feet slowing, taking in the bird’s eye view before us. The sun prepares to rest for the night, casting an amber blaze, like the whole forest is lit by candles. “Wow.”
He hurriedly pulls me into the treehouse, closing the sliding glass door behind him, the sun’s glow filling the small room as a floral scent hits me. My eyes take in bouquets and bouquets of ruby red flowers scattered around the room in vases, and my hand covers my mouth.
“Asters,” I say, recognizing the flower that shares my name.
I smile as he grabs a stem from a bouquet and places it over my ear. “How?” I laugh, and he just winks at me and walks closer to the bed where a white canopy is bolted in the ceiling, its netting draped over the bed to the ground.
Before I can say a word about the beauty surrounding me, he sits on the pristine white comforter at the canopy opening. He pulls on mytowel, and it falls into his hands, revealing my bare breasts. Placing the towel on my stomach, he pulls it down my body, taking care to dry each thigh, each foot. I balance myself by resting my hand on his wet, bare shoulder.
I sit before him, taking the towel from his hands, his eyebrow arching as I glide my teeth over my bottom lip and bring the towel to his chin, down his strong neck, over his pecs, and stroke down the ridges of his abs.
“May I?” I ask when I reach his shorts since he’s in charge tonight, and he nods, eyes alight, so I untie the top and slide them down. I drag the towel up the tops of his feet, up his toned calves, his thick thighs, his perfect dick.
With a sigh on his lips, his stomach clenches, mouth opens. “Get up here,” he says, and I stand, throwing the towel to the ground as he pulls me onto his lap. Wrapping his hands around my back, he unties the bikini top and pulls it over my head.
He stills, allowing me to take all of him in, allowing my mouth to press on his shoulder, kissing along his collarbone, down his neck, sliding my tongue down his chest, the salty taste of him, the same but warmer, dizzying.
I push him back on the bed, taking in his chiseled body, still so strong, even without vampire blood. That V line any man would envy and every woman would die to run her fingers along calls to me, so I plant the tiniest of kisses along it as he hisses, the sensation intense, my mouth hot for him, his hands in my hair.
He pulls me on top of him, his hips spreading my legs apart. “Kiss me, Bastian,” I beg, and he pulls me flat against him, finally ravaging my mouth, wrapping his arms around my back, my breasts pressed hard into his chest, his dick sitting right at my entrance, and I can’t take it anymore. I needed it from the moment he put the bathing suit on me, I’ve been dying for it. So I nudge against him, and he wasn’t prepared so he hisses in my mouth.
“Please let me,” I beg, and then his arms are so tight around my back, and he shakes his head.
“No, let me,” he charges, and this is the version of Bastian I revere in the bedroom, the man that’s in control, who knows how to please, that sets my skin on fire. It’s been too long without him, and I’m wound so tight, enjoying every second, trying not to burst loose. “Stay still, my love,” he orders, and I do. My arms wrap around his neck, myforehead resting on his chin as he pushes inside me. I’m on top, but he’s the one moving in and out, and it’s so achingly slow, so delicious, the unhurried licks of each grind inside me.
My stomach clenches, waves of desire pulsating through every muscle, every bone. I lift my head to meet his gaze, and his eyes are so striking, and there’s that feeling. Worship. The altar before me…
“You undo me,” I sigh in his mouth, that feeling he invokes in me, consuming every inch of my skin. Home. Back to where I belong. I’m back to where I was away from so long, and he moves inside me, like the waves on a beach, the glitter in stars.
Rolling me on my back, he turns on his side and gently pulls my leg over his hip, so I’m spread open, his hand falling between my legs, stroking, as I writhe against his fingers. He slips inside me so gently, so fully, I cry out, his eyes capturing mine.
“Come here,” he whispers, so I lean closer to his face, his lips caressing mine with a hot fever, wanting all of me, pouring himself in every stroke, every kiss, pushing me to the edge. The warmth of his palm on my lower stomach sends me reeling, his fingers working a magic I couldn’t dream of performing.
How does his mouth have a way of always finding mine? No matter the position, no matter the distance? Every stroke inside me is a reminder, telling me, I’m loved, I’m desired, I’m his.
So, I close my eyes taking it all in, every sensation as he slowly and specially makes love to me. The raw emotions of our reunion, always below the surface, the “pinch me” moments, always lingering. I hope it never goes away, I hope I always remember how lucky I am to have this.
My lungs could burst into flames from the hot air they hold, the balloon about to pop, the build-up of ecstasy on the verge of releasing as I thrash under his skilled touch. How does he know my body so well, how does he know just how to move me?
The slick feeling of my thigh over his hip as he thrusts is maddening, and I’m going to burst. “Come for me, baby,” he says, so sexy, so seductive, fucking me from the side. I needed this, him. It’s all too intense as he groans my name and I cry out, opening my eyes, clutching his fingers on my stomach and sucking on his bottom lip. I kiss him like I mean it over and over again until we’re both finishing, swallowing each other’s gasps, chasing each other’s pleasure, the connection between us strong as steel.
“I love you, Aster,” he moans. “I love you so fucking much.” And we lie there, our hearts beating next to each other’s, our lips still kissing, lazily like they never want to stop, like they mean it. He holds me tightly like I might disappear into the woods, be swept away in the stars.
“Yes, to everything. Yes, to forever. I’m yours, okay? Always,” I breathe out, trying to catch my breath, tears spilling from my eyes. He grips my chin, our foreheads pressed to each other, allowing the minutes to pass.
Eventually, he pushes my hair from my face and runs his thumb along my chin. “You let go of everything for me. And I’ve rarely had repercussions, that’s the problem. Cassius and Nicola always fixed everything for me like I was a child. I keep thinking about how you once called me careless and how much I fought that. But I was careless.”
“Maybe you were careless, but I was careless too. We both made our bed and we’ve both lain in it. And guess what? I will never, ever regret loving you. I carried you with me every day. Every fucking day.” I wipe away the tears that come up whenever I think of those days and run my hand up his cheek, down the back of his hair, his heart pounding in his smooth chest.
His hand squeezes my naked hip. “There needs to be another word for us, for our love. Love just doesn’t do justice to how I feel about you,” he whispers, and I smile.
“Infatuated?”
“Not intense enough,” he quips.
