Page 83 of Yearning For Her

“Not a fucking chance,” he rasped against her. He pulled his right hand back and slipped it between her thighs, using his glamour to dissipate his claws as he thrust two fingers inside her. Her sex clenched around them. His wings twitched, rising from his back, and he groaned, nearly undone by his anticipation of the moment when it would be his cock enveloped by her body instead.

He pumped his fingers inside her, rubbing the spot that brought her so much pleasure as he continued teasing her thrumming clit with his tongue.

Breathy, needy moans escaped her, and she rocked her hips in time with his fingers, which gradually gained speed. Her slick ran over his hand and down her thighs.

His mate was so passionate, so sensual, so attuned to her desires despite how hard she’d resisted them. During moments like this, when she gave in and allowed herself to feel, she was white-hot, as bright and brilliant as a star.

Kian pressed his lips around her clit and sucked, lashing the swollen bud with his tongue. Willow let out a strained cry, her body tensing with a wave of pressure so powerful that even he felt it. That tension exploded in a blinding flash of ecstasy. Liquid heat burst from her, flowing into his mouth, and she spasmed, squeezing his horns as she curled over him.

She called his name, desperate, pleading, lost, and hungry, her every emotion now completely eclipsed by pleasure. He drank her essence eagerly, coaxing out more and more with his tongue and lips, keeping her bucking hips locked in place with his hands.

The nectar of the gods could not have compared to her taste. Nothing could have.

A ragged growl clawed its way out of Kian. Willow’s pleasure flooded him, making his skin tingle, overcharging every nerve, buzzing through every shred of his being. And that now too-familiar ache deepened. His need for her was stronger than it had ever been, exceeding even the hunger he’d felt in those frantic weeks after their first night together. The universe was pulling him in every direction at once, and he would come apart if he didn’t have her now.

It’d been too long—much too long—since he’d been inside her.

He rose, sweeping Willow off her feet as he spun around. A single stride carried them to the bed. Even as he laid her atop it, Kian dropped a hand to his waist and tore apart the leather and fabric of his belt and pants to open them.

Willow stared up at him, eyes aglow with need of her own. Her cheeks were flushed, her full lips were parted, her damp hair was wild, and her thighs were spread. She’d never looked so beautiful.

Kian shoved his pants down. His cock sprang free, twitching in the cool air, but it didn’t suffer the chill for long. He grasped her thighs, spread them wider, and thrust into her waiting, welcoming heat.

Pricking her skin with his claws, he threw his head back and snarled. Bliss rippled through him, shaking Kian to his bones. Willow’s hot, slick cunt was paradise, contracting around him with echoes of her climax. It was nearly too much to bear.

“Fuck, Violet,” he rasped.

Willow slipped her hands around his waist and pulled him even closer as she ground her sex against him, moaning.

He gritted his teeth and dropped his gaze to her. “I remember this. I remember the feel of you.” Kian drew his hips back and pushed in again, plunging deep. “I’ve dreamt of this, craved this, yearned for this.”

He caught her chin, forcing her eyes to remain locked with this. “I’ve yearned for you.”

Willow took his hand, slipped his finger into her mouth—the same finger that had been inside her—and closed her lips around it. Lust surged through Kian as he stared at those lips, imagining them around his cock.

Her tongue twirled around his finger, and she sucked as she slowly slid it out. She settled his hand over her throat. “I dreamed you too.”

Kian curled his fingers firmly around her neck but didn’t squeeze. He pumped his hips in a slow, steady rhythm, each forward motion punctuated by a burst of speed that seated him deep inside her. The contrast between those powerful strokes and the deliberate, gradual slide of flesh against flesh sharpened the pleasure infinitely. She matched his pace perfectly, meeting each thrust and drawing him in a little farther.

Soon, her pulse matched his, and their rapid, ragged breaths came in unison. Kian watched the passion in her eyes deepen, watched the tiny crease form between her eyebrows, watched her lashes fall. And he felt her body’s responses—the quivering of her thighs, the tightening of her sex, the desperate press of her fingers against his flesh, the erratic shudders disrupting her rhythm.

This felt so good. She felt so good, so fucking good.

He needed more of her. He needed to reach that pinnacle, that moment when their mutual pleasure reached a crescendo and their souls succumbed to sweet, torturous bliss together. That moment when they became one.

Releasing her throat, Kian hitched one of her legs over his arm, braced a hand on the mattress, and leaned over her. He moved his hips harder, faster, grunting with each thrust, pushing all those sensations well beyond what should’ve been their limits.

Willow’s breasts bounced against his chest, her breath was hot against his skin, and her soft cries filled the room. She wrapped her arms around Kian, and her hands found the bases of his lower wings.

A spark jolted through him, and he gasped, rhythm faltering, but he didn’t stop. “Fuck!”

Then her body tensed, and her sex contracted around his cock. He sensed the storm that was about to consume her. A hot deluge of pleasure burst from Willow. An ecstasy he had never known rushed through Kian, enveloped him, and swept him away on its powerful currents.

Willow arched her back as she cried out. The tight suction of her pussy was his undoing. Rapture tore his mind apart, shredded his soul, and cast the pieces out into the universe.

Kian bared his fangs and growled. He slammed his hips forward, burying his cock as deep inside his mate as he could as seed erupted from him in great, shuddering spurts. His wings snapped out behind him, vibrating, and his claws sank into the bedding as he ground his pelvis against her.

He was weightless, untethered, adrift on the red ocean of pleasure she’d unleashed upon him.

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