Page 114 of Rejected By the Shifter King
The moment his tongue slips inside my mouth, I’m lost in the heat of his possession, my heart breaking even as he sweeps me up in his arms, a sob spilling past my lips as he lowers me to the bed.
In this room he’s free to be the alpha that he is, and I watch through a haze of want and terror as our clothes simply...disappear. Preter speed. The clinical part of my brain catalogs this even as the rest of me short-circuits at the sight of him, all sleek and golden, all muscles and smooth skin, a predator in human form...while I’m no longer his future wife but his prey.
“Non.”
He whips the word out in a command when I try to cover myself, and my arms fall back to my side like a doll being controlled by strings of desire.
“Tu es magnifique, Samira.”
I don’t need to speak French to understand what he’s saying, and oh, the way he says it, too...
I’m finding it all the harder to breathe, much less think.
“I can’t,” I choke out. “I don’t know how—”
“Je vais te montrer.” His voice is rough silk, accent thickening as control slips. “I will show you everything.”
And he does.
His mouth begins at my throat, pressing kisses that make me shiver. Then lower, to the hollow between my collarbones where my pulse hammers wildly. His lips are warm silk, his tongue a brand that marks me as his.
“Si belle,” he murmurs against my skin, and another sob rocks my body at the way Hexius also lavishes me with his words.
When he reaches my breasts, I think I might shatter. He takes his time, exploring with a reverence that steals my breath. His mouth closes over one peak while his hand claims the other, and the dual sensation has me arching off the bed with a cry I don’t recognize as my own voice.
“Regarde-moi.”Look at me.
And so I do.
Even when it’s so, so hard to keep looking at him without dying of embarrassment, to just meet his burning gaze even as he continues to worship me with his hands—
Oh, Hexius, please...
He maps every curve, every hollow, every place that makes me gasp and tremble. His hands span my waist, thumbs tracing patterns on my ribs that feel like poetry written in touches. When his mouth trails lower, pressing kisses to my stomach, my hands fist in the sheets.
“I c-can’t. It’s t-too much—”
“Non.”
My stomach clenches at the roughness of his tone.
“This is not nearly enough.”
He spreads my thighs with careful hands, and I think I might die...
Aaah.
When his mouth finds me there, I come apart completely, pleasure tearing through me like lightning, and all I can do is cry his name out, my back bowing as wave after wave of release pounds through every inch of my sensitive flesh.
“H-Hexius...”
I want to beg him to stop. To just let me catch my breath. But instead he drives me higher, driving me past thought and reason, and all I can do is just sob again and again.
Hexius rises over me, golden eyes burning with hunger that’s as ravenous as it’s possessive—
“Tu es à moi.”
You are mine.
