Page 52 of Yearning For Her

Every moment of it was bliss and agony, fire and ice, overwhelming pleasure and hopelessly vast need.

Her touch was exquisite torture, and he never wanted it to end.

Kian wanted her hands on him—not just on his wings, but on his body. He wanted to feel her touch again, wanted to feel her cunt wrapped around his cock, wanted to taste her lips and hear her cries.

He wanted her.

When her fingers met the sensitive skin around the base of his wing, Kian bared his teeth, unable to stop a growl from escaping his throat as his wings fluttered.

Willow hastily withdrew her touch. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfort—”

There was no conscious thought involved as Kian spun toward her, only driving, instinctual need. He captured her face between his hands, angled it toward him, and slanted his mouth over hers. Fire danced across his lips, spiced by her irresistible flavor. Her surprise quickly gave way to pleasure. He devoured it, dropping his arm to her waist to tug her body against his. Kian groaned when her belly pressed on his cock, and his eyes fell shut.

Willow’s arms looped around his neck, and the coat hanging from her shoulders fell to the ground. Her fingers delved into his hair, clutching the strands, and she stood on her toes, leaning her body against his. Her lips parted, and her tongue flicked his piercing before she sucked it into her mouth to tease it.

“Fuck, Willow.”

In answer to her teasing, he nipped her lip with a fang, coaxing a satisfying shudder of delight from his little mortal. He deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking and coaxing hers, each move a whisper of promise for delights to come. Thrilling heat raced just beneath his skin, and a red haze tinted the darkness behind his eyelids.

The energy she emitted was so pure, so potent, so unique. If he’d harbored any lingering doubts, they were shattered in that moment—he would never be able to feed from anyone else again.

And that didn’t matter. She was all he wanted, all he needed. All he craved.

He dropped his other hand, palming both her ass cheeks, and ground his pelvis against her. Ecstasy hammered him in waves, each of which was colored, flavored, and enhanced by Willow. Her spirit, her desire, her essence, her warmth, softness, and feel, her breath, her voice, her scent.

She was everything, she was all.

An ache so fierce that it nearly wrung a cry from his throat thrummed in his cock. The friction was too much and not remotely enough. But it wasn’t what he wanted. He needed to be buried in her heat, needed to feel her inner walls clamping around him. Needed her essence coating his cock. He needed to look into her eyes as their bodies joined and know that she wanted it too, that she needed it just as much as him.

Willow moaned. Her hands shifted to his shoulders, fingers clenching, nails biting. Gods, he wanted those hands to slide lower, to stroke every inch of flesh on their way to his pants.

Kian growled a curse and slid a hand to her front, wedging it between their bodies. It curled between her thighs to cup her sex. Even through her jeans, he felt the flame of her desire. He applied pressure, pushing his fingers down on her clit.

She gasped. Her desire surged along with her pleasure. He could smell her arousal, and within moments, he would have it on his tongue as it thrust deep inside her, slaking his thirst.

Kian moved his hand up to the button of her jeans.

Willow stiffened in his hold. Her hands flattened on his shoulders, and she shoved against them as she tore her face away, abruptly breaking the kiss. She stumbled back, chest heaving, lips kiss-swollen, and eyes bright.

Trembling, she pressed a hand to her chest and shook her head. “No. No, we can’t do that again. I’m…I’m not ready for that, Kian.”

Despite the chill that had overcome his skin the instant their bodies were separated, Kian burned. He’d never known such need before her. Had never felt such desire…not from himself. It would’ve been so easy to step forward and kiss her again. He knew her resolve wouldn’t last, knew she wanted the very thing she was struggling to resist. He knew she wanted him.

All she needed was a little push.

But as he looked into her eyes, he saw something more.

Fear.

Was she afraid of Kian, of what he was? Or was she afraid of what he made her feel? Whatever the cause, it was enough to douse those fires and clear the red haze from his mind. He did not like seeing fear in her eyes. It bothered him just as much as the sadness she’d borne on the night they’d first met.

Despite this pull toward Willow, despite his wants, Kian didn’t need to have her now. She’d been feeding him every moment they were together, had been sustaining him with every laugh, every smile, every heated look. As much as he hungered for her, he wasn’t hungry.

He didn’t yearn for what she could give him…he yearned for her.

Kian raised his hands, displaying his palms. “You don’t need to fear me, Willow. I told you, I’m not going to harm you.”

“I don’t… I’m not…” She sighed heavily, ran her hand through her hair, and looked down at the ground. “I am scared.”

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