The Darkest Whisper

He wasn’t wearing underwear.

“I think my briefs were stolen,” he said sheepishly, following her gaze.

His erection sprang free, long, thick, proud, and she gasped in pleasure. His testicles were heavy and drawn up tight. Sunlight poured over him, turning the bronze of his skin to a delicious gold. Today he’d pushed her around, and she’d taken it without (much) complaint. Deep down, she’d known she needed his brand of training. Never again did she want to be shot up like a turkey at Christmas. Plus, part of her really did want to defeat the men who’d abused her. Plus, she’d wanted to impress Sabin. He valued strength.

“Mine,” she said, wrapping her fingers around his cock. She didn’t recognize her voice. It was higher, raspier. A bead of moisture coated her hand.

He arched his hips forward, forcing her hand to slide to the base of his shaft. “Yes,” he gritted out.

Her grip tightened. Her vision was a bit distorted, fuzzed to infrared, so she could see the heat pulsing from him. “Tell your demon to keep his mouth shut or I’ll gut him.”

“He’s been quiet since you rammed me.”

Good. She must have scared the forest animals and insects, as well, because there wasn’t a chirp or footfall to be heard. She and Sabin were completely alone, about a mile from where they’d been training. “Rip off my clothes. Now.”

Unused to taking commands, he reacted slowly to hers. She released him to do it herself, and he growled. “Put your hand back.”

The moment she did, he was tugging at her clothes, doing whatever was necessary to remove them without disrupting the connection between them. Finally, she was naked, their heated skin was touching and he was moaning.

“Beautiful.” He ran his hands down her back, paused. “Wings?”

“Problem?” Warm air caressed her, hardening her nipples, stoking the wet ache between her legs. A constant ache. One that hadn’t left since that time in the shower.

“Let me see.” He spun her around. For a moment, there was nothing, no reaction, no comment; he didn’t even breathe. Then he placed a soft kiss on one of the tiny, fluttering protrusions. “They’re amazing.”

No man had ever seen her wings. She’d even kept them hidden from Tyson, never letting them peek from the slits in her back. They set her apart, proved how different she was. But under Sabin’s gaze, she felt…proud. Shivering, she pivoted on her heel, returning to her former position. “Let’s get started.”

“Sure you want to do this, Gwendolyn?” His voice was husky and thick, almost drugged.

“Can’t stop me.” Nothing would stop her, actually, not even a protest from him. She was going to have him, know his taste, feel him inside her, today, now, this moment. Part of her knew she was not herself just then, but the other part of her didn’t care. Once Sabin had thought to mark her to keep his friends away from her. Now she was going to mark him.

“Sure you want it and not just your Harpy?”

He wouldn’t make her feel guilty about this. “Stop talking. I’m going to have you. I don’t care what you say.”

“Very well.” Her world spun, and then jagged bark was cutting into her back. Sabin kicked her ankles, shooting her legs apart. He quickly inserted a thigh, placing her clitoris right above his knee. “There’ll be consequences. I hope you know that.”

“Why are you talking?” Because his erection was so thick, she hadn’t been able to close her fingers around it and easily lost her grip. That pissed her off, and she snarled. “Give back.”

“No.”

“Now!”

“Soon,” he vowed, biting her earlobe. To distract her, the diabolical man? Didn’t matter, it worked.

As she cried out at the exquisite sensation, he descended, claiming her mouth with his own. His tongue plunged deep, taking, giving, demanding, seeking, begging, rolling, branding every inch of her. The taste of mint hit her first, then lemons, then the flavors became a part of her, his breath hers.

Her fingers tangled in his hair and drew him closer. Their teeth scraped, and he angled, sinking deeper. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, the friction so decadent her legs were trembling. And then her legs weren’t holding her up anymore—his were. She had propped herself completely on his knee, was gliding up and down, back and forth, zings of sensation rocketing through her.

“That’s a tight grip,” he rasped out.

Took every ounce of humanity inside her, but she loosened it. Disappointment filled her, and the Harpy squawked, demanding she make him like it.

Sabin frowned down at her. “What are you doing? It’s a tight grip, but I want tighter. You’re not going to break me, Gwen.” As he palmed and squeezed her ass, urging her on, he ducked his head and sucked hard on one of her nipples.

She cried out, her belly quivering, her hands back in his hair and tugging forcefully. His words…damn, they were as beautiful as a caress, freeing in a way she’d never imagined. “I love how strong you are.”

“Same here. I want everything you have to give.” He kicked at her ankles and she tumbled to the ground. Sabin followed her down, never slowing his quest to her core. When he reached it, he spread her legs as far as they would go and just looked at her.

“Touch,” she commanded.

“So pretty. So pink and wet.” His eyelids had dropped to half-mast, and he licked his lips as though he could already imagine her taste. Those dark eyes were luminous. “You’ve had a man?”

No reason to lie. “You know I have.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “That fucker Tyson treated you properly?”

“Yes.” How could he have done anything but, as tame as they’d been with each other? But right here, right now, she didn’t want tame. As Sabin had said, she couldn’t break him. Anything she gave, he could take…he wanted. Though he hadn’t even entered her, her pleasure soared to a new level.

“I think I’m going to kill him,” he muttered, rolling her nipples between his fingers. “Do you still think of him?”

“No.” And she didn’t want to talk about him, either. “Have you had a woman?”

“Not many, considering how old I am. But perhaps more than a human will ever have.”

At least he was honest about it. “I think I’m going to kill them.” Sadly, that was not an empty boast. Gwen had always abhorred violence, had always fled from a fight, but right now she happily could have sunk a dagger into the heart of every woman who had tasted this man. He belonged to her.

“No need,” Sabin said, ghosts in his eyes. Then he dove for her, licked the core of her and groaned, his expression flooding with pleasure.

Her back arched, her gaze shooting straight to the heavens. Sweet fire, that felt good. She reached behind her and latched on to the base of a tree, instinctively knowing she needed to hold on for the ride of her life.

“More?” he asked huskily.

“More!”

Over and over he tongued her, and then his fingers joined the play, spreading her, sinking deep. She didn’t have to ask him if he liked it; he was lapping her up as if she was candy and she was arching in to every sensual glide.

“That’s right,” he praised. “That’s the way. I’ve got my cock in my hand, can’t help myself, imagining it’s your hand, while I’ve got heaven in my mouth.”

Her cries echoed through the forest, each more hoarse than the other. Almost there…so close…“Sabin. Please.” His teeth grazed her clitoris, and that was all it took. She climaxed, skin tightening, muscles jumping in joy, bones locking together.

He lapped until he’d sucked down every drop.

As she panted, Sabin flipped her over and propped her on her hands and knees. He teased her with the tip of his shaft, running it along her folds but not yet entering.

“I want to see you.”

“I don’t want to hurt your wings.”

Sweet man. “Let me taste you,” she said, and he groaned. She wanted to lick his tattoo, as well. It drew her, was an aphrodisiac all on its own, yet she’d never