“Just fuck me, Sebastian,” she says. She yanks at my hips, tightening her legs around them.
“Trust me, I’m going to,” I say. I push forward, but instead of entering her, I tease her, slipping over the top. She lets out an impatient moan, and I lower my lips to her throat. I can feel her pulse, and I trail my tongue up to her jaw. “I’ll fuck you as hard and as long as you want, little witch. But if it’s too much?—”
“I’ll tell you,” she says. She lifts her hips again. “Please, Sebastian.”
“So pretty when you beg,” I tell her. I kiss her jaw, her cheek, before finally claiming her mouth.
She kisses like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do, and if I have to die, this is the way I’d want to go. With her legsfastened around my waist, nails digging into my skin, lips wandering over my shoulder.
I line at her entrance again, and this time, I don’t tease. I push into her tight heat, and we groan in unison. I thrust slow, shallow strokes as she adjusts to my size. For several seconds, there is nothing but her pure, blissful torture. My eyes flutter, and I let myself be wholly consumed by Grace Renolds.
“Oh god,” she says. Her head falls back, eyes rolling, mouth gaping.
“Good?” I ask. Because for the life of me, I can’t fucking tell. I’m too deep in my own blissful oblivion. She takes me deeper with each agonizing stroke, until I’m fully seated, and I can’t think of anything else.
“So. Good.” Her voice is soft, breathy, half in this world and half in another.
“Thank fuck,” I say. Because if I had to stop now, I’d spend the rest of my life chasing this single feeling.
I thrust a few more times before I’m forced to pause. Fuck, I’m already close. I clench to keep from bursting inside her, grinding my teeth as I look over her. I’ve never seen such an erotic sight as Grace sprawled beneath me, her tight cunt squeezing me in a vice grip. Her eyes are glossy, hands cupping her breasts, mouth slightly parted.
I grab her hips, stilling her. She lifts her head, and her sated expression is only a fraction of how I feel.
“More,” she begs.
“Give me a second,” I growl. I duck my head against her shoulder, kissing up the length of her throat. “You have no idea how close I am to coming. I’ve wanted…”
I trail off, refusing to say more than I should.
“Then come,” she says, and she says it like a command. “Come and then fuck me again.”
“Hells,” I mutter.
I wait another beat, until that instinctual urge subsides, before thrusting hard and deep. Again and again, until the room is a symphony of her moans and our hips meeting. Her head drops back, and she toys with her breasts, pinching her nipples between long, delicate fingers.
I’m jealous of her own fucking hands.
I replace her touch with mine, palming one breast and capturing the other with my mouth. She comes like that, my name on her sweet lips, her back arching from the mattress.
I fuck her until she’s gone limp, until she’s spent and boneless. Only then do I let my own urges take over. My thrusts grow sharp and reckless, and without my realizing, I’ve fucked her halfway off the bed. When her head hangs over the edge, I yank her back to me, pulling out to flip her onto her stomach.
She lets out a surprised yelp as I pull her ass into the air. Before she says a word, I shove back into her pussy in a single, hard thrust. Her moan fills the room, and I hold her firmly in place as the urge flares again. I don’t want to come yet. I’m not ready for it to end. I’m determined to make this ecstasy last the rest of my fucking immortal life.
“Sebastian,” she moans. She pushes her hips back, seeking friction.
And that’s all it takes. Instinct takes over, and I manage two violent thrusts before I come on a roar. I collapse against her, filling her until my seed drips down her thigh. My vision spots as I lay atop her, kissing the heated flesh of her neck.
“Perfect,” I whisper against her shoulder. “Fucking perfect, Grace.”
I lay for a prolonged moment, savoring the touch of her naked body, before finally pulling away. She groans as Idisappear from between her legs. She rolls onto her back and settles into the pillows, watching me with a sated expression. I study her in return, checking for any sign of remorse or pain. I find nothing but blissful exhaustion.
“Stay.” It comes out as a command, one I hadn’t planned to make. I’ve never asked a woman to stay the night, but I can’t bear the thought of her leaving. Of her going back to her room and finding a reason to regret what we’ve done. “Sleep here tonight.”
“You won’t eat me in my sleep?” she asks. She waggles her eyebrows, making sure I don’t miss the double meaning.
I don’t, but also…
“I am not going to hurt you, Grace,” I say. “I promise.”
