Page 80 of Changelings
Naked, with her hair unbound, she glowed in the moonlight.
Her nipples grew hard in the cold air, and her skin pebbled. That wouldn’t do.
Without dropping her gaze, Balar unbuckled his belt and unknotted the ties of his kilt. They fell to the floor with a clatter, joined in a moment by his socks. He stood before her naked, only a pace away, and Balar swore he could feel the tether between them tugging taut.
Seeing her there, waiting for him, her lush lips parted just slightly as though in anticipation of his kiss, shifted something inside Balar. Something intrinsic and vital. He’d known he loved her before, but in this moment, he understood how she was his very heart, the beat of his pulse and flow of his blood. She herself was vital now, a part of him he couldn’t live without.
And we’ve only just begun.
A purr vibrating in his throat, he closed the distance, catching her round the waist to draw into the curve of his body. She fit there so perfectly, her hands rising to pet his chest as he bent to flip the coverlet and blankets back.
“Will you indulge me,urisá?Seeing you in my bed…” He shivered with the thought.
Imogen didn’t ask or complain. With a small smile on her lips, she climbed into his big bed, coming to rest at the center and easing down onto the mattress. Balar’s purr grew in volume, and the sight of her drew him forward.
Blue squares of moonlight illuminated her, catching on the tips of her nipples and dip of her waist. Falling to his hands before her, he kissed every place the moon did, asserting his claim.
Little moans filled her throat as he kissed and suckled, her hands carding through his thick mane. One of her nails caught along the rounded base of his ear, making him shudder.
Even though his blood had run so hot from the dance, having her here, finally, in his bed, surrounded by his blankets and scent, enabled him to slow down, to savor. There was no rush. He would have her in all ways, every way, again and again. She was his to enjoy and pleasure—it would be the honor of his life.
The slow way he kissed her breasts and lapped at her skin, the leisurely way she petted his shoulders and traced his arms—he could only describe it as luxurious. Indulgent. Every scrape of the flat of his tongue, every pass of her palm was to be savored.
She opened her legs for him with a breathy sigh that ruffled his mane. Balar fit his chest into the vee of space, hands trailing down her flanks to caress her thighs. Her thick scent drew him down, and Balar devoted himself to lavishing her cunt with the same degree of attention. Every stroke of his tongue felt decadent, every taste of her richer than the last.
He guided her legs over his shoulders as he knelt beside the bed, framing her hips in his supplicant’s hands. Balar could feel her gaze on him, and he thrilled knowing she watched her own pleasure. He relished his own view—the rounded, feminine curve of her belly, the soft mounds of her breasts tipped in peaked nipples, her swollen lips parted around a sigh and then a moan.
She might not realize it, but she was built for pleasure. Everything about her was soft. Yes, she was all strength and muscle, too, but everywhere Balar touched, he came away aching from her softness. He had to come back for more.
Determined to indulge, he cupped his tongue around her clitoris, letting her feel the texture as he slowly thrust against and circled the bundle of nerves. Imogen’s thighs pressed against his ears, and her legs began to tremble.
“Balar…”
“Come for me,urisá.”
“But what about…?”
“You come first. Always.” Especially for her first time. She’d taken his tongue well and his fingers valiantly, but there was no real substitution for his cock.
Imogen’s head fell back onto the bed at the next swirl of his tongue. Setting his lips at her clitoris, he made sure she felt the full vibrations of his purr. Her body spasmed in a rictus of pleasure, and Balar watched on greedily, enjoying how her breasts trembled and her lips stretched in a silent scream.
Goddess, he could watch her do that all night. He had before, knelt between her thighs so long that his legs went numb and his knees bruised. A small price to pay. But there was so much more to do.
Before she’d finished completely, Balar gently worked a finger inside her. He shuddered to feel the way her muscles rippled around him, as though trying to draw him further in. Her slick allowed him to slide one and then two fingers in with ease, and he started an easy rhythm, working her back up without ever letting her come all the way down.
“Balar,” she whimpered, “Balar!”
“I have you,nitlam. Just like that now. You can do it.”
Her head thrashed back and forth on the bed, her nails biting into his scalp. Balar relished the burn, his cock throbbing and leaking onto the floorboards as he added a third finger. This took more work, but his brave mate accepted him. He thrust his hand in and out, a steady rhythm for her hips to follow.
She soaked his hands, easing his way, and Balar rumbled with pride.
“Look at you, taking me so well. You’re doing perfectly,urisá.”
Even as she bit her lip, she managed to smile and flush with his praise.
“I’m so close,” she whispered.
