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But instead, I reached up, and the shocking heat of his hard cock met my palm. I gripped him tightly, finally eliciting a hiss and a whispered curse from him, his hips bucking forward. Itraced the length of one thick vein up the shaft, but I didn’t make it to the tip.
Before I knew it, Lorik had darted from the washing tub and I was up in his arms before I could blink. The chill of his icy flesh made me gasp, but he swallowed it down with another stolen kiss, one that made me cling to his shoulders—though I was mindful of his bandaged wound this time.
“Patience, little witch,” he groaned, squeezing my backside with one large palm as he strode from the washroom. “I intend to savor this.”
His words brought about wicked fantasies that streamed into my head on a loop. But most of all, I wanted to touch him and explore every little thing that drove him wild. I wanted to make him come undone. I wanted to see Lorik Ravael ripped apart at the seams. Maybe then I could finally discover the secrets he was hiding. Who he truly was.
When my back met the warm sheets of my bed, I realized Lorik must’ve finished washing them for me when I’d been…otherwise occupied at Aysia’s grave.
That realization alone made me deepen his kiss as his weight came down on top of me, pinning me to the bed. His wings covered us like a blanket, spreading out so that they blocked the light coming in from the front room. Those tiny little membranes in his wings fascinated me, and I wanted to trace every little vein there like I’d traced the one lining his cock.
I saw blood bloom under the fresh bandage, given that he was hovering off me with his strength.
“Lorik,” I gasped.
“Leave it,” he growled, distracting me as he nearly ripped the front half of my dress down my own arms, trapping them at my sides though it bared my breasts to him. His eyes glowed brighter at the sight until we were lit with a soft cast of blue. “It’ll heal.”
I was torn between desire and duty…at least until Lorik dropped his head and I felt the heat of his mouth envelope my breast. I heard the whistle of his hitched breath against my skin, almost contented as he licked and laved.
“Oh gods,” I breathed, widening my thighs so he could sink further into me, melting against him until I felt boneless. He captured my nipple between his teeth, making me hold my breath, the tip of his fang a dangerous tease. With my nipple tight in his grasp, he stroked the underside with his tongue, and I moaned throatily. The perfect mix of pleasure and pain. “Lorik!”
Even still, I caught the fresh scent of his blood, and I groaned.
“Lorik, your—”
A rough sound left his throat though it was followed by a husky, languid chuckle, one that felt like silk skimming my skin.
“Heal me, then, little witch,” he purred. “And I know exactly what I need.”
With that he rolled off me, going to his back on the bed. I was relieved when the weight was off his shoulder at the very least.
“Stand up,” he ordered.
I swallowed, feeling the cool air drift over my breast where he’d suckled, puckering the sensitive flesh and making meburn. I stood from the bed.
“That’s my good little witch,” he praised. “Now, take off your dress.”
“I should get the needle and—”
“Take off your dress.Now.”
The edge in his tone had me wiggling from the material, suddenly desperate to hear what he’d order me to do next. Had my two past lovers ever dared to order me around when it came to sex? No.
A pity,I realized, feeling something unlock in me. Something I wanted to explore.
When I was naked, my dress pooled at my feet and the end of my hair tickling the edge of one nipple, Lorik’s gaze trailed up my body slowly.Savoring,I realized.
It was so quiet, I wondered if Lorik could hear my heart throbbing in my chest. With impatience. With need. With nerves. It had been so long, what if I’d forgotten how to be with someone?
“You’re an incredibly beautiful woman, Marion,” came his words. Soft and gentle.
“You think so?” I asked, a smile pulling at my lips. My belly fluttered. Lorik might’ve been a liar, like he’d proclaimed, but all I’d heard was soft honesty—evenreverence—in his tone.
“Gods, yes,” he groaned. “Come here.”
“How is this healing you?” I asked again, stepping toward the bed, eyeing his bandage.
“You’ll see,” he rasped, watching me place a knee on the edge of the firm mattress. “No, come up here. I need a taste of you.”
