Page 84 of Yearning For Her

Willow released his wings and moved her hands to his face, cupping his cheeks. She dragged his head down—dragging him back to reality—and crushed her lips against his.

The breath fled Kian’s lungs, and Willow took it into herself as they were both battered by another climax. Their bodies trembled and their muscles tensed, but that kiss, gods, that kiss!

Before Willow, he would never have believed that a simple meeting of lips could say so many words without making a sound, could convey so many emotions in the space of a heartbeat, could mean so much.

His wings slowly flapped, and he leaned atop her, sinking deeper into the kiss, deeper into her, as he released the comforter to grasp a fistful of her hair. Willow softened the kiss, caressing his lips with hers, and he groaned when her tongue ran over his piercings. He released her leg to pull her closer, and she curled it around his hip. Their panting breaths mingled as they came down from the heights of their pleasure, but that pleasure did not ebb.

And Kian was in no rush to move. That warm, soothing afterglow was settling over him, enfolding him in crimson, lulling him to rest, to relaxation.

He was exactly where he wanted to be. Inside his mate with their limbs intertwined, sharing this moment, this intimacy. He’d felt this only once before, and only briefly—that first night with her, right before he’d fallen asleep. When he’d awoken to find her gone, he hadn’t yet realized just what he’d tasted with her, just what they’d created when they’d come together. He hadn’t understood what the strange hole inside him had been, or why it was so massive.

But he knew now.

Willow broke the kiss and pressed her forehead to his. “Kian.”

“My sweet mortal, my lovely Violet, my Willow.” Kian lifted his head to look down at her.

She smiled and stroked her thumbs over his cheeks.

Whatever words he’d been about to speak vanished when he looked into her eyes. Their emerald depths, now tinged purple by his red haze, brimmed with emotion—with potent, warm emotion even stronger than the lust he and Willow had just shared. That emotion flowed directly into his soul to fill him with energy like he’d never felt.

The heat that spread through Kian now began in his chest, intensifying with every moment he spent looking into her eyes. He knew what this was, even if he couldn’t say it, and it was so far beyond anything he could’ve imagined.

For the first time in his long life, Kian hadn’t fucked. What they’d shared hadn’t been about lust, hadn’t been about feeding, hadn’t been about him. It had been so, so much more than that.

They’d made love.

“You undo me,” Kian said in a thick, deep voice. He tenderly swept the damp strands of hair off her forehead and cheeks and lowered his face again, capturing her mouth in a lingering kiss. She reciprocated, and whispers of her pleasure drifted through him.

He reveled in the feel of her soft, smooth curves, reveled in her heat, in her taste. Never in his life had he enjoyed a mortal after he’d fed from them. But with Willow, he would savor every possible moment.

Yet he knew they could not stay like this forever, however much he longed to. He knew he could not yet allow himself to succumb to the afterglow.

He willed that haze to fade and withdrew from her body, groaning as her sex clenched around his cock. Willow moaned, and Kian was all too tempted to thrust back into her, to return to that tight, wet heat.

He resisted the urge.

Barely.

Standing on the floor between her legs, he gripped her knees and held them open, staring down at her cunt. His seed, an iridescent blue-white, seeped from the plump, red petals of her sex. That primal, instinctual part of him longed to push it back inside her, to complete their unforged mating bond—and to allow his seed to take root inside her. To breed with her.

He glanced at Willow’s belly. In that instant, he knew, someday, she would carry his child. Not now, not yet, but it was inevitable.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Kian dragged his gaze up her lush body to meet her eyes. “Admiring what is mine.”

Though Willow’s cheeks were already flushed, he knew his words brought a fresh blush to her skin. For as passionate as his little mortal mate could be, she had her moments of bashfulness.

His lips stretched into a grin. “Stay here, Violet.”

“Okay.” She stretched her arms over her head and arched her back. “Not that I feel like I could move far anyway.”

Kian laughed, his gaze lingering on her full breasts. “Oh, you tempting morsel…”

He left her to enter the bathroom, where he retrieved a washcloth from the linen closet and turned on the water. Once the water was warm, he soaked the cloth and cleaned himself, mourning the loss of his mate’s essence. His only comfort was the fact that her scent would remain on his skin for a while longer, even if its potency was diluted.

When he returned to Willow with the washcloth, she had indeed moved, having scooted up toward the head of the bed, where she now reclined. She silently watched him approach. He climbed atop the mattress and pushed her thighs open.

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