Page 87 of Yearning For Her

Her heart raced, and her lungs felt restricted, as though they couldn’t hold enough air.

Willow shook her head and drew in several deep, calming breaths.

No, it couldn’t be. It was too soon. She felt affection for him, but…it couldn’t be love. Not yet.

Exhaling slowly, Willow opened the door and stepped out. She came to an abrupt halt.

Kian was no longer asleep.

He lay propped up on an elbow, hair hanging over one shoulder. His lips spread into a sultry grin as his half-lidded eyes, which shone brighter than ever, met hers. “Morning, Violet.”

His gaze devoured her inch by inch, and when his tongue slipped out to wet his lips, Willow shivered.

“You look well rested,” she said.

“And you look well loved.”

Willow’s skin flushed as she approached him. She stopped beside the bed and lightly ran her fingers over the blanket covering him. “I was.”

Kian reached out and traced one of the bruises he’d left on her hip. His smile faltered. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. You didn’t. You made me feel good, Kian.”

He gently covered the bruises with his palm. “You wear my marks well, mortal.”

She grinned. “Should I walk around naked in public to show them off?”

His fingers flexed, and the prick of his claws sent a thrill across her skin. He growled, “Fuck no.” Slipping his arm around her, he tugged her closer and pressed his lips to the bruises. “You’re mine, Willow.”

Kian trailed kisses across her hip and over her lower belly, each one soft and soothing, like the fluttering of butterfly wings against her skin. Yet each also poured heat into her veins. His lips could be so delicate and precise, but they were also capable of such savagery, such force. Whatever he did with them was always right. Always perfect.

She fought that blossoming ache in her core as his mouth moved lower. The tickle of his warm breath was almost more than she could bear, and it amplified her inner fires tenfold. Her heart beat faster, harder, and she caught her lip with her teeth, fraught with anticipation, with want. Just before his lips would’ve brushed the top of her pussy, Willow braced her hands on his shoulders and pushed him away.

Kian fell on his back with a grin, tucking his hands behind his head. “Ah, Willow, am I to go without breakfast?”

Damn it, even his playfulness was a turn on.

Willow pressed a finger to the center of his chest. “Maybe you just need to be a little patient.” She slowly ran her finger down his abdomen toward the blanket, which was doing a poor job of hiding the evidence of Kian’s desire.

His mouth slanted to the side. “When it comes to you, waiting is the cruelest torture. But I’ll gladly endure every second of it.”

She grinned. “Good boy.”

He chuckled, the sound low and sensual. “Until you want me to be bad.”

“Be good a bit longer, and you’ll be rewarded.” Willow climbed onto the foot of the bed, between his legs. She gathered the blanket in her hands and slowly drew it down, uncovering Kian’s body inch by delicious inch. His cock sprang free. It was hard and thick, and the piercing at its tip gleamed.

Releasing the blanket, she crawled closer to him, her eyes locked with his. “I decided to have my breakfast first.”

Kian lifted his head and propped himself up on his elbows, the playfulness having vanished from his expression. A tiny crease formed between his eyebrows as he searched her face, and his lips twitched down ever so slightly. “What are you doing?”

Willow arched a brow as she planted a hand beside his hip. She trailed a finger from her other hand down the underside of his cock from piercing to base, making it twitch. “You’re an incubus, Kian. Shouldn’t it be obvious?”

His lips parted as he took in a soft, shaky breath. “It should be.”

She wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft. “Then let me make it a little clearer.” Bending down, she ran the flat of her tongue up the length of his cock and flicked his piercing.

A tremor coursed through Kian, and his fingers curled, puncturing the sheet with his claws. He hissed her name. Impossibly, his shaft thickened in her grasp, and seed gathered at its tip.

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