“Despite your protestations, it makes me think you might actually want me inside you after all,” he growled. “I thought about it earlier, watching you in the kitchen. Thought about ripping off your silk and holding you against me like this. Wanted to shove inside you from behind and find out how hard you’d grip me. You’re so tight, but I already know how sopping wet you can get for me.”

All I managed in reply was a strangled mewl. My clit pulsed, the water jetting over it in waves that made me quiver. I was already so close to coming, and the thought of Wylfrael wanting to fuck me in the kitchen almost put me over the edge.

“But don’t worry. I remember your rules.”

His cock nudged between my legs, making me flinch, but he didn’t try to press inside. I moaned, and this time, it was in complaint, my body completely forgetting the terms of our agreement, overwhelmed by the empty ache.

With a grunt, Wylfrael nudged his knee inward on the bench, forcing my right knee closer to my left. His cock was pinned between the tops of my thighs now. With a harsh breath that was more like a snarl, he started to thrust. His movements were quick and powerful, making my hips jut forward in time with him, driving my clit ever closer to the tantalizing stream of rushing water that stroked and swirled.

I was right about the stars on his cock. Even with friction and the motion and the water, I could feel the glowing points of them sending tiny vibrating whirrs of energy along my folds. My eyes rolled back in my head, my back arching. Wylfrael made me arch even further when he wound my hair around his hand and tugged my head back, baring my throat. My scalp burned, but it was good, so fucking good, a necessary counterbalance of pain against the exquisite pleasure between my legs.

Wylfrael’s other hand came up to the front of my throat, gently massaging, trailing his fingertips down my madly pulsing arteries, before his touch skimmed down to my left breast. He groaned, his cock throbbing between my legs, when my nipple hardened against his palm.

I held on tight to the tile because I couldn’t do anything else. Couldn’t do anything but arch and moan and come undone, completely undone, from his hands and his cock and the ruthlessly delicious current of water.

“I... I’m going to-”

“I know,” Wylfrael rasped, his hips slamming against mine. “Your breathing changes right before you fall apart. Don’t think I’ve forgotten, little bride.” His hand in my hair tightened, forcing my head even further back as he claimed my jaw with ravenous, groaning kisses. “I remember everything about you, Torrance. Everything.”

It was hearing my name in his lust-thickened voice that did it, that finally made me explode. “Little bride” often felt like a taunt. But my name was much more personal. Intimate. I wasn’t just some random woman he’d stuffed into this role. In that moment, he wanted me and only me.

I couldn’t make a sound when I came. My voice, my very breath, vanished. Wylfrael’s hand was on my neck again, his palm sealed to my throat, and for a second I wondered if that was why I couldn’t cry out. But he wasn’t squeezing hard enough for that. His grip there was seductively firm but ultimately gentle, a possessive cage and a caress all at once.

“Torrance,” he said again, a broken mumble against my ear, driving himself harder and faster between my legs. “Do you feel how hard you make me, little bride?”

I convulsed rhythmically, clenching around nothing, shivering, my voice finally returning in a whimpering, “Yes, yes, yes!”

He was so, so hard. Hard and satin-smooth and needy, throbbing with an ache so much like my own.

“Torrance!” Wylfrael’s harsh groans deepened, lengthening into gravelly moans. His hips lost their rhythm, speeding in an uneven, nearly frantic motion before he suddenly went rigid, his only movement now the jerking of his cock trapped between my thighs.

He’s coming, I realized in some far-off, orgasm-befuddled part of my brain. Wylfrael resumed his hips’ motion, rocking through his pleasure, breaths short and ragged. I tried to grip him with my thighs, to increase the pressure, but my muscles failed me, too weak from the hot water and from him.

I sagged in his embrace, my knees sliding apart on the tile. My head lolled, creating a sharp pain where Wylfrael held my hair. He released my hair quickly, then scooped me up. The sound of sluicing water told me he’d gotten out of the bath as I turned my face into his chest and closed my eyes. He crossed the room carrying me, and I nearly fell asleep from the rocking motion of it.

The next thing I knew, I was deposited gently on my back on the bed. A whisper of air over my body alerted me to the fact that Wylfrael had turned and walked away. I cracked my eyes open to see him striding back towards me, wet and naked and glorious, with a small soft towel in his hands.

“Stay still,” he muttered, coming to a stop by the side of the bed. I watched him through slitted eyes as he began to dry me off, starting with my hand, then moving up my arm to my shoulder. It was insane that I was even letting him do this. But I didn’t have the energy, didn’t have the will, to make him stop. It had been so long since someone had taken care of me like this, and I didn’t want it to end, even if it was Wylfrael who was doing it.

Or maybe I didn’t want it to end because it was Wylfrael.

Tomorrow, I promised fuzzily, sighing and letting my eyes fall closed once more. Tomorrow I’ll go back to being sane. I’m sure of it.

OceanofPDF.com

OceanofPDF.com

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO Wylfrael

As I stroked the towel along Torrance’s shoulder, I wondered if my bride had fallen asleep. Her eyes were closed, the look on her face a slack and dreamy one. But when the towel grazed her neck, she made a pleasant mmm sound that went straight to my cock and tipped her head back so I could have better access to her neck.

“Are you going to sleep here tonight?” she asked, her eyes still closed.

“Well, it is my bed,” I said.

She made another soft sound which made me think she wasn’t too displeased by this. That she maybe even wanted me to sleep beside her.

Well, good. I refuse to spend half my night staring at her from a crystal chair across the room and the other half staring at her standing beside the bed. If I’m going to gawk at her all night, I’m going to do it from the comfort of my own bed, lying right next to her.

I was already getting a head start on the gawking. My eyes roamed her bare body, from her flushed, glowing face, to the valley between her breasts that I slipped the towel down. She made yet another sweet, painfully erotic sound, and when my towel reached her navel, then travelled lower, towards damp and glistening curls, she moaned and spread her legs.

It was as if I’d never come at all. My cock thickened and surged, aching for heat. For her. Tension crackled down my spine.

There was no tension in Torrance at all. She was languid, luxurious, completely relaxed and spread on the furs, her lips parted, eyelashes resting on her reddened cheeks.

I abandoned the towel, wanting her wet beneath me, and heaved myself up onto the bed. I loomed over her on my hands and knees, one palm sinking into the fur, my other hand pressing fingers to her chin, turning her face towards me.

“I remember your terms, Torrance,” I breathed against her lips, “Now you must remember mine. I get to kiss you, anytime, anywhere.”

She surprised me by angling her chin upwards, seeking my mouth with her own. Her eyes remained closed – I knew this because mine stayed open. I couldn’t stop looking at her.