Page 46 of The Dark Elf's Found Family
Her breath hitches, but she doesn't pull away.
"I knew from the moment I met you that I couldn't leave," I continue, my thumbs stroking across her cheekbones. "Not you, not this place, not what we were building together. The fact that anyone could meet you and walk away makes them a fool of the highest order. But now that I know Rhea, too? It doesn't matter if we're blood-related or not. She's felt like mine for far too long."
I lean closer, until our foreheads are nearly touching.
"I'm in too deep, love. I couldn't let either of you go if I tried. And I won't try. Ever."
Something shifts in her expression—the fear giving way to something softer, warmer. Hope, maybe. Trust.
"I know," she whispers, her hands coming up to cover mine. "That's why I fell in love with you."
She loves me. This incredible woman, this fierce mother, this person who's become the center of my world in just a few short weeks—she loves me.
Before I can respond, her lips are on mine.
The kiss starts gentle, tentative, but it deepens quickly as weeks of careful restraint finally snap. Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer, and I can taste the desperation on her tongue, the need that matches my own. Tonight has stripped us both raw—the terror of nearly losing Rhea, the revelation about Cyprien, the admission of love—and we're both reaching for something solid, something real.
"Take me to my room," she breathes against my mouth, and the husky need in her voice makes my cock twitch.
I don't need to be asked twice.
I stand and pull her with me, my hands never leaving her body as we stumble toward her bedroom. She turns in my armsas soon as we cross the threshold, pressing me back against the closed door as her mouth finds mine again. Her fingers work at the buttons of my shirt with increasing urgency, and I groan when her palms flatten against my chest, nails scraping lightly through the dark hair there.
"Brynn," I growl, catching her hands. "Slow down."
"No." She shakes her head, her eyes bright with need. "I've been slow for weeks. I've been careful and afraid and?—"
I silence her with a kiss, pouring all my understanding into the connection of our mouths. Then I spin us, pressing her back against the door instead, my body caging her in. The change in position shifts the dynamic immediately—she's looking up at me now, pupils dilated, lips swollen from my kisses.
"You want fast?" I ask, my voice dropping to that low register that always makes her shiver. "Then let me take care of you properly."
I trail my mouth down the column of her throat, feeling her pulse race beneath my lips. My hands find the laces of her bodice, making quick work of them until the fabric loosens enough for me to push it off her shoulders. She's not wearing a chemise underneath—just smooth, warm skin that tastes like honey and salt when I drag my tongue across her collarbone.
"Beautiful," I murmur against her skin, my hands spanning her ribcage. "So fucking beautiful."
She arches into my touch, her head falling back against the door with a soft thud. I take advantage of the exposed line of her throat, nipping and sucking until I find the spot that makes her gasp and her knees buckle slightly.
"That's it," I growl, steadying her with my hands on her waist. "Let me hear you."
My mouth works its way lower, following the swell of her breasts. When I take one nipple between my lips, she cries out softly, her fingers tangling in my hair. I lavish attention on thepeak until it's hard and glistening, then move to the other, using my teeth just enough to make her hips jerk against mine.
"Ciaran, please?—"
"Please what?" I lift my head to look at her, taking in the flush spreading across her chest, the way her lips are parted as she pants. "Tell me what you need."
"You," she breathes. "All of you. Now."
But I'm not done with her yet. Not nearly.
I drop to my knees in front of her, my hands working at the ties of her skirt until it pools around her ankles. She's bare underneath, and the sight of her—flushed and wet and wanting—makes my cock throb almost painfully against my trousers.
"Spread your legs for me," I command, my voice rough with need.
She complies immediately, bracing her hands against the door as I settle between her thighs. I press a kiss to the inside of one knee, then work my way higher, alternating between gentle nips and soothing strokes of my tongue. By the time I reach the apex of her thighs, she's trembling.
I pause, just breathing on her for a moment, watching the way her muscles clench in anticipation. Then I lean forward and drag my tongue through her folds in one long, slow stroke.
"Oh gods," she gasps, her hips bucking forward.
