Page 60 of Bound to the Fae Assassin

He settled for trailing kisses down her neck to her perfect breasts.

The first time he had tasted them he’d been too eager to bring her satisfaction before they were found out.

Now it was full dark outside, and the castle slept around them. They were behind locked doors with the king’s guards in front of them.

He could lavish her with all the attentions she could bear, before his control over his own need gave out.

Savoring the thought, he licked one stiff little nipple into his mouth.

Chapter 27

Farrow

Farrow let her head fall back as she reveled in the wild sensation of Blackthorn’s hungry mouth at her breasts.

The first time she was in his arms had been a furtive tryst in the hay of the barn loft, afraid at any moment that her parents might wake to find her gone.

Now she was luxuriating in the feeling of his naked form pressed to hers, and the knowledge that they had true privacy in the most comfortable space she had ever seen.

He was wolfing at her breasts now, sending ripples of sensation through her so that she could hardly breathe.

“Blackthorn,” she murmured, arching her back for more.

He growled and clutched at her hips, pressing his lips to her belly, then moving lower to nuzzle her inner thighs.

Farrow moaned, knowing what was coming next. She let him spread her legs so that she could feel his hot breath against her opening.

Her body was sizzling with need, she waited for him to sate her like before.

Instead, he lapped her with slow, firm strokes, bringing her closer and closer to ecstasy without ever letting her peak.

She whimpered and moaned, desperate for release.

Blackthorn groaned against her, the vibrations tightening the tension until she was humming with it. His tongue flickered and swirled, lavishing her all over, neglecting only the stiff little jewel that so desperately throbbed for his attentions.

“Please, I need… need you,” she begged, jogging up her hips to meet his mouth.

Suddenly, his mouth was gone.

She nearly screamed with frustration.

But he was crawling up to her, his lips glistening with her juices, a look of desperate hunger in his storm-gray eyes.

“Farrow,” he moaned, her name like a prayer on his lips.

“Please,” she whispered back, twining her arms around his neck again.

He bent to kiss her gently, but she could feel his body trembling with the restraint it took.

“This will hurt a little,” he told her sadly. “But I promise I will make you feel better.”

She smiled up at him, loving his serious eyes.

He cupped her cheek in one hand and took himself in the other.

For one dizzying moment she allowed herself to think about the size of that massive organ. She had seen it when he was removing his clothing.

Then he traced her opening with his tip, and she felt her belly cramp with need.

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