And then I peck each iron crater branding his arms. Above me, Cerulean expels a ragged breath.
When I reach his navel, he yanks me upright and jerks me into him. “Not so fast, pet,” he warns, the nickname spoken with an endearing lilt. “You’re not permitted to taste me until I’ve made you shout to the sky. If not, this will be over fast.”
“Who died and made you ruler?” I taunt.
Cerulean smiles, but the smile drops in no time. “Spread your legs so I can see where I’m going.”
That alone sends me into a tailspin, arousal streaking up my legs. He’s not asking because he doesn’t know where to go. He’s asking because he wants to savor the visual, a broader view than I’d given him moments ago. But if this Fae thinks he can order me around, he’d better learn the truth right fast.
I shake my head. “Be polite.”
Standing in between my limbs, Cerulean braces his palms on my scarred knees, sketching them with his thumbs. Then he bends his head to those marks. “Please,” he entreats against the mangled flesh. “Please, let me.”
It’s not the pleading that does it. No, it’s the gentle strum of his fingers, the light kisses on my chimney scars. A bulb grows in my throat, and my kneecaps loosen.
I fan out my thighs for him, for myself, for this. I bare everything.
Meanwhile, I enjoy the shape of Cerulean. His sinewy figure. The powdery blue vein that wanders up his inner forearm. That pulse that beats against his neck. The bob of his throat. I relish the exposed dips, steep hipbones, and the scars peppering his arms.
I savor that erect part of him suffused with color, the shaft straining.
I squirm, nestling him deeper, cradling him into the vent of my thighs. My hand descends to the stem of his cock, my fingers linking around the base. “Spread me with this.”
“Greedy human.” Cerulean snatches my lips, his tongue devouring mine.
At the same time, he palms my rump with one hand, holding me in place. With the other hand, he hooks my leg over his waist.
My wandering fingers discovering another sexy part of him. His ass is toned, the indentations yielding under me.
Our lips open and seal as if this is a dire moment. We kiss deeply, trading sighs, shivers.
And his tip pushes forward.
Our voices tangle into a single, stunted half-moan. The sounds trip out of us, clashing because our faces lean so close to each other. My eyes lock with his, refusing to miss this.
Cerulean’s pelvis braces at my entrance. His eyes glitter, menacing, lovely.
Again, he rocks his hips, swabbing my wetness. Another moan strays from my tongue. He kisses my chin, punctuating the contact with a flick of his waist, nudging his prick further. My core flares around him, then seals the crown inside.
We keep our eyes pinned, but it’s a struggle to hold them open. Cerulean moves with predatory grace, slow and steady. With controlled circles of his waist, his cock probes me a little more, each pivot agonizing. The prolonged friction drives me so crazy, my palms imprint on his rear to spur him farther, but that only incites a wicked Fae grin. He denies me, responding with a swat of his groin, splitting me farther.
“Oh, Fables,” I whimper. “Cerulean.”
“Do you like that?” he asks. “I like it, too. I like it so much.”
But it goes on. And on. And on.
Until I’m cracking from the inside. Until I’m weeping with need. Until I’m incoherent.
And not only me. Cerulean’s plaintive growl is a thread pulled taut. We cling to one another, a film of sweat building on our skin. Moisture floods from my body, drenching us both. He moans with enthusiasm, swirling his length in that place—that beautiful, brutal place.
“Now,” he promises.
At last, his prick slides, and slides, and slides. And then he’s inside me, fully inside me, my muscles closing around him.
Our cries inundate the park. He fills me to the brink, our bodies jolting upward from the impact, then sinking onto the rock. I’ve never felt anything so painfully good. I’ve never felt this way with anyone, complete and incomplete all at once.
Cerulean mutters an oath. His face presses against mine, and we take a moment—a scant moment—before starting to move. With gentle snaps, his hips whisk back and forth. He strokes in and out of me, never completely leaving my body, allowing me to feel every inch of him.
