“Lucan.” She could almost feel his hands tightening around hers, as if he still held them, leaving her at his mercy.
His lips moved over and across her, his tongue curling around the aching knot that pulsed in wicked pleasure. One minute she had a hold of the sensations rioting inside her and the next they were ripped away in a feverish landslide.
She sank her hands into his hair, holding him to her as she lifted her hips, her body spinning tighter, tighter. A hard thrust of his fingers, another brutal pass of his tongue over her clit and a bone-deep shudder snapped through her.
Crying out, her eyes met his and the pleasure turned explosive, triggering an orgasm so intense she screamed out her release.
Pure male satisfaction crossed his face, and she melted into the bed as Lucan resumed kissing the inside of her thighs. Her slowing heartbeat picked back up the moment he stood, his hand going to his pants.
Needing to please him the way he did her, she sat up. She made quick work of getting his shirt off and then finishing with his pants and boots. Somewhere in the middle Lucan stripped off her bra.
“This one is new.” She touched the biggest scar on his shoulder.
“One of Morgana’s trolls.”
Rising to her feet, she circled him, remembering the marks that had both intrigued and worried her so very long ago. He’d barely known an existence without war and death, and if it took the rest of her immortal life, she vowed that he would.
He would know what it was to smile first thing in the morning and laugh until his stomach hurt. Days of it. Weeks. Years.
And he would know what it felt like to be loved first, last and every moment in between.
She pressed her lips to his skin, wishing she could replace every scar with a better memory, a sweeter one, a hotter one.
Watching his face, she closed her fingers around the length of his cock, and a sound of approval rumbled in his chest. From base to tip, she tugged as light and teasing as he had. The feel of him in her hand, smooth and hard, aroused her as much as if he continued to stroke between her legs.
Lucan’s eyes slid shut, his hands clenching at his sides. Rising up on her toes, she ran her tongue across his bottom lip, slipping inside to graze the tip of his.
He nipped at her mouth. “Don’t tease, kitten.”
She grinned. “Don’t pretend you don’t love it.” She moved to her knees.
Pumping slow and easy, she licked the length of him, and then pulled him into her mouth.
Lucan let his head fall back, sinking his hands into her hair.
Dead.
Someone had done the impossible and finally put him out of his misery. And now he was in heaven. Or at least on his way. And he knew without a doubt she was going to be the one to take him there.
He watched her tongue slide the length of his cock, her lips part as she closed her mouth over the head.
Ah, fuck.
Ruthlessly seductive, she took him deeper, the lush walls of her mouth sucking slow and easy. He tried not to tighten his fingers in her hair, tried not to quicken the pace of her decadent mouth taking him in, fought it to the point his legs locked and his ribs threatened to crack under the force of his beating heart.
She moaned around him, the slick suction deepening, and then he couldn’t help but close his hand over hers, pumping a little faster. The need to touch her for just a second rapidly turned into ten, then thirty, then sixty as he moved with the carnal pace she set—slower, then faster, then slower again, the most incredible torture he could imagine.
“Briana.” He was too close to coming.
Another long, lazy lick and she glanced up at him.
Cursed? Not even close. How could he consider himself anything but lucky with her on her knees and her heart in her eyes?
There still hadn’t been enough time to process that she was his. All he had to do was find a way to keep her, and prove to her every day after how damn lucky he was to have her in his life.
Dragging in a breath, he moved with her mouth, sliding between her lips and pushing deeper into the wet heat. The heady promise of release rolled across the back of his neck. He groaned and pulled her to him, laying her on the bed and following her down.
The bluest eyes he’d known stared up at him, and this time he felt no fear that he would drive her away.
She pinched his cheek, and he caught her fingers, bringing them to his mouth. “What was that for?”
“Making sure I’m not dreaming.”
“Shouldn’t you have pinched yourself?”
She scoffed, her smile playful. “It would probably hurt.”
He growled and rolled her on top of him, pulling her down to nip at her neck.
“Do it,” she murmured, offering her blood, part demand, part sultry plea.
“Last time—”
“I was fine,” she insisted. Gripping his shoulders, she moved her hips, rubbing the wetness between her legs along the head of his cock.
He gritted his teeth, the pleasure steamrolling through him. “You slept for hours.”
“Didn’t you wonder why I never went to stone? It wasn’t the venom in your bite that weakened me.” She shifted to rub against him again. “Think about it.”
How was he supposed to think about anything when her breasts were plastered to his chest, her nipples hard? Without even trying he could imagine the feel of them in his mouth, his tongue curling around the dark pink tips.
He gripped her hips. Gods, he could barely reason with himself, let alone her when all he could think about was touching her. He wasn’t sure if that made him weak or just fucking crazy about her. And it sure as hell didn’t explain why he dragged her up his body so he could reach one dark pink tip.
She sighed deeply, and he sucked her harder between his lips. “I want to feel you inside me.”
He had her on her back before she even finished speaking.
Every part of him burned for her. He hovered over her, bending to capture her mouth as he pushed inside her.
And then the world stopped. Complete and utter standstill.
He was damn sure he stopped breathing, knew he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence even if his life depended on it.
He told himself to go slow, every flex of his hips, every thrust, every single moment that he held still, a part of her, the pleasure deliciously excruciating.
“Luc.” Her back bowed, her hands going over her head to snare the blankets beneath them.
Slipping from her body, he gently bit on her nipple, letting the seeking pressure drag another cry from her lips. Thighs parted, a sexy flush darkening her skin, her dark hair spread out beneath her, she was still every bit the wild thing who had crept into his life with the same unexpected intensity that had her clinging to him.
And it had all started when she held that wooden sword at his throat, taunting him about embarrassing him further.
“Luc, please.”
She didn’t need to tell him what she wanted. He wanted it too. Wanted to dive off the edge, crash into the pleasure that would snatch the breath from his lungs as she caught him all over again.
He couldn’t have stopped it any more than he’d been able to prevent the one thing he’d sworn he wouldn’t do that night—fall in love with her.
Impatient, she shifted beneath him, letting him slide even deeper. It couldn’t have been more than a millimeter, maybe two, and he shot to a whole new level of scorching need that stunned him.
