Filed to story: When the Moon Hatched Book
Him.
Fuck.
To think I almost slit this male’s throat rattles me to my marrow.
Kaan pulls the strap farther down my arm, freeing my aching breast, his thumb brushing the peak of my hardened nipple. “Did we play rough or gentle?”
Another kiss on my neck as his fingers slide across the gathered silk of my black sleep shift, feathering over my navel.
“Did I tease you until you were wet, shuddering, and mindless, screaming for me to take you?”
He nips my neck, and I jolt.
Yes, Kaan. I’ve screamed for you in my dreams. Woken with your name still hot on my lips, pulsing with the memory of your hand …
Right where I need it now.
I press my ass against his swelling shaft, putty for his touch skating over my hip, dipping lower.
Lower.
A languid roll, and I lift my right leg, the hem of my shift slipping up my thighs. He gathers it a little farther, leaving me entirely bared.
“Did I take you hard?” he coaxes, grazing his fingers along my seam, parting me, swirling around my throbbing entrance.
Again.
Again.
Two fingers circle that sensitive nub of nerves while he kisses my neck, working me into a knot. “Was it deep and slow?”
“All of the above,” I rasp, and a dense rumble rattles his chest as he pushes into my slick, fluttering core—
Pleasure ripples through me, making me shudder.
Another unhurried thrust, and I widen my legs, trailing my hand down his arm, just like I did in my dream. Using my own fingers to press him deeper into my aching heat—grinding to the same famished rhythm.
He nips the shell of my ear, then kisses it with devastating tenderness.
I rock to a steady beat, keeping his hand between my thighs, coaxing my flesh to flush with a swollen warmth that’s hungry.
Wet.
Wanting.
Another kiss to the side of my neck casts a trail of tingles to my breasts. Past my navel.
Down into my core.
All my fine ligaments twinge and tighten, and my body deepens its rolling ride, building my pleasure from the fill of his fingers.
I tip my head in a quiet request for him to kiss my neck again, groaning when he laves at that tender stretch of skin with such voracious confidence. Picturing his tongue doing the same thing elsewhere.
Every nerve ending below my belly button begins to tingle, intensifying until I can’t speak.
Can’t think.
Can’t breathe.
Another lavishing kiss to my neck, and every muscle in my body clenches with fierce, greedy violence. My release rips through me like a rockslide, splashing me with wave after wave of explosive pleasure.
He gently withdraws his fingers, and a moan bludgeons up my throat as he rubs my tender coil of nerves while peppering kisses around that spot beneath my ear—winding me up.
Unraveling me.
I continue to pulse, Kaan’s low, satisfied growl shuddering through me, and I laugh, shaking my head. So high it feels like I’m dancing through the clouds.
If only I could live in this imaginary existence forever. Things feel good here. Wholesome and happy.
Free.
He plants a kiss at the corner of my mouth, sending another zing straight between my thighs despite my ebbing release.
My attention homes in on his hardness pressed against my backside, the muscles under my tongue tingling …
I roll out of his arms, and his eyes flare as I reach for the clasp of his pants, popping the button.
Yanking them down.
Tossing them aside, I straddle him, greedy gaze sweeping his body. He’s a work of art tangled amongst the silken sheets, his manhood resting against his belly, the tip almost meeting with his belly button.
He reaches up, cupping my face, looking at me in the same way he did in that small, lopsided dwelling. Like he’d catch a fallen moon for me. Only this time it doesn’t chafe, because we’re shaping memories from silt. Something that can be washed away with the next torrential downpour.
I fall into that look like it’s my salvation, nuzzling his hand.
Cupping it closer.
He groans, brows bunching. “You’re magnificent.”
My heart skips a beat.
The words …
The look in his eyes …
The way he’s holding my face …
I could revel in him for eternity and never stop marveling. More evidence that whatever pulled Elluin away hurt.
I lift a brow—a pitiful effort to lighten the mood. “You’re biased, Sire. And perhaps forgetting the fact that I almost hacked you open more than once.”
“No. I’m fucking obsessed,” he growls, wrapping his other hand around my face and jerking me forward.
Our lips crush together, and I swallow his guttural sounds as I grind against his solid length, rekindling that ravenous throb. His fingers feather down my spine that curves into his touch, his firm hands gripping my hips, urging me to roll deeper.
Harder.
Breaking our kiss, I pepper more down the column of his throat to the sound of his gravelly moans, savoring each languid press of my lips upon his skin like a sip of life. I plant more upon each of the scars on his chest.
Around the side of his ribs.
I map the constellation of his pain with my mouth—imagining each slow, tender kiss absorbing a little of his violent history—moving down his abdominals, past his navel, taking his thick, hard cock in my hand.
My mouth waters, core pulsing at how hard he is for me.
How ready and wanting.
My lashes flick up.
I hold his volcanic stare and flatten my tongue against the velvety base, then drag it all the way to the tip, traversing a web of bulging veins. His hips buck as my tongue sweeps over the rim, lapping the salty bead of precum dripping from the slit.
He hisses, jerking.
I wrap my lips around the swollen tip and drop low, opening my throat, taking him so deep I can’t breathe—my hand still wrapped around the girthy base. Again, his body jerks as I pull back, keeping my lips tight until I pop off the top, flicking another glance up into his eyes.