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She strokes my hair from my face, and opens her eyes, fixing her gaze on mine as I find her clit and press one purposeful finger against it. She nods, biting her lower lip, and tilts her pelvis so she leans into my touch.
I keep my finger still, applying pressure, the same pressure, watching her skin flush and her eyes widen. She stops biting her lip and releases a quivering breath. Her freckles look darker, and her eyes brighter.
When I finally move my finger through her wetness, slowly, she tilts her head back and sighs.
I reach her entrance and pause. “One finger? Or two?”
She looks at me, her entire body alive with pleasure. “Just one at first. Then two.”
I smile. She’ll get three.
As I thrust them inside her, the surprise on her face makes my cock throb with pleasure. Her eyes flash as if she’s angry with me, but then they soften into the same playfulness I saw a moment ago, and she thrusts down onto the three large fingers that are now settled inside her.
I move them in and out, slowly. “You’re so tight,” I murmur. “But so very wet for me, Alana.”
She fixes her eyes on mine, and I realise she is slipping her hand further beneath the sheets. She keeps staring at me while she curls her hand around my cock. Then she pauses, lifts her palm, spits into it, and returns it to my shaft.
Fuck.
The way she did that.
The complete dichotomy between the way she looks right now – soft and angelic and innocent – and the way she so expertly moistened her palm for my cock makes me moan. “Harder,” I whisper, increasing the speed of my fingers in her pussy. “Harder and faster.”
For a microsecond, she obeys me. But then she stops, takes her hand away, and sits up. Her wings flutter. She climbs on top of me and slides straight onto my waiting cock. She leans back, using her wings to cushion herself, and moves one hand to her clit and the other to her nipple.
I tuck my hands behind my head, lie back, and watch her use me as a plaything.
She rides me, eyes closed, moving to her own rhythm, making herself moan and whimper. And when her orgasm starts to build, I resist the urge to grab her hips or flip her over or tug her towards me so I can pull her breast into my mouth.
I bite down on my own pleasure and watch her.
Her eyes fly open and she catches my gaze.
“Don’t come for me,” I tell her. “Come for you. Whenever you want, however you want.”
“Oh, fuck.” Alana scrapes her fingers through her hair with one hand while the other furiously works her clit.
The pleasure building in my core is almost unbearable. But I cannot come until she does.
I am about to lose my ability to hold back when she finally explodes with pleasure. She cries out, her body stiffens, and then she goes completely silent. She closes her eyes, quivering on top of me for a long moment.
Then she falls forward, kisses me, and lets me thrust up into her deliciously wet cunt until I explode.
NINETEEN
Alana
Ibolt upright, a scream caught in my throat.
Somehow, Eldrion and I fell asleep in each other’s arms. But this sleep was different. It was not a comforting sleep; it brought with it the one thing I have been trying to avoid.
And now the vision clings to me like a second skin, refusing to fade even as I blink into the darkness of Eldrion’s bedroom.
Is it because we are so close to each other that this keeps happening? That both of us keep slipping into visions we cannot escape or control?
My heart pounds so hard I feel like it might burst from my chest.
“What is it?” Eldrion’s voice is sharp, instantly alert. He’s already sitting up, muscles tense, ready for a fight.
