Page 34 of Ravished By the Revenant

He crosses the stone floor in two strides and stops at the lip of the tub, towering over me, blue light washing down over the water. Close enough that his cock is at eye level, flushed and straining, a bead of moisture already gathering at the tip.

“Clara.” His voice comes out rough like gravel. “You do not have to⁠—”

I wrap my hand around him, and whatever he was going to say dies in his throat.

He’s cool in my grip, silk over stone, the piercings pressing into my palm.

And no, my fingers don’t close all the way around. Not even close.

I pull him closer, using his cock like a leash. Aldric stumbles half a step, this seven-hundred-year-old warlord, yanked forward by his own anatomy, and the strangled sound he makes might be the best thing I’ve ever heard.

Then I take him into my mouth.

“Fuck—” He jolts. One hand flies to the edge of the tub, knuckles going white against the copper.

He tastes clean and faintly of salt, and the first barbell rolls over my tongue, cold and smooth, and I moan around him before I can stop myself. I’m rewarded by a growl that raises every hair on my body.

“By Saint—Clara—” His free hand hovers over my head like he’s afraid to touch. “Your mouth. Your mouth, I have dreamed of—centuries, and nothing, nothing⁠—”

I take him deeper and gag, my eyes watering, drool escaping the corner of my lips, and I don’t care. I want to be greedy. I want to be a mess. I pull back, breathe, and go again, working my hand over what won’t fit, which is a lot, because there’s an absurd amount of him that won’t fit, and I’m going to need a strategy and possibly a yoga regimen.

“Look at you.” His voice is dark and reverent and filthy. “Choking yourself on my cock like you were starved for it. Were you, little intruder? These nights, while you slept in my bedroom, did you dream of this? Of kneeling in my bath with your lips stretched around me?”

I moan my answer. His hips twitch, and he swears in a language that probably hasn’t been spoken aloud since the plague.

“Yes,” he hisses. “That sound. Make it again.”

I make it again. I make it louder. His hand finally lands in my wet hair—not pushing, just holding, trembling.

“Your tongue on my piercings—ah—do you feel what you do to me?” His breath saws in and out. “If you could see yourself. Drooling for me. Eyes streaming. The most beautiful thing these walls have ever held, and you are debauching yourself on a monster.”

I hollow my cheeks and suck, dragging my tongue up the ladder of metal, and his thigh muscles lock under my free hand.

“Clara—” Warning now. Urgent. “Clara, I am going to—if you do not stop⁠—”

I don’t stop. I grip the back of his thigh, scars and all, and pull him deeper. His cock swells against my tongue, his growl turning desperate and helpless.

“Clara—”

He floods my mouth.

There’s so much cum. Pulse after pulse, thick and endless, and I swallow and swallow, and still it leaks from the corners of my mouth, spilling over my chin, dripping in warm ribbons down my throat and over my breasts. He groans through his orgasm like a dying man, both hands in my hair now, his enormous frame shuddering.

I release him slowly, letting the last barbell slip past my lips, and sit back on my heels in the water.

I should feel embarrassed; I’m a mess, covered in cum and drool. Instead, I feel powerful. Electric. So turned on I could scream.

I drag my palms up over my breasts, rubbing him into my skin, slicking my nipples with it, tugging them until my breath catches and my thighs press together under the water.

Aldric stares down at me like I’m the holy grail. His chest heaves. The crystal heart blazes so bright that the whole bathroom glows blue. And his cock… It hasn’t softened. At all. It stands against his stomach, hard and slick and ready, like the last five minutes were an appetizer.

“Oh,” I breathe. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” I swear I feel the vibration of his growl in my clit.

He bends, plunges his arms into the bath, and hauls me out of it in one motion. I’m dripping, petals stuck to my skin, water gliding off me and soaking his skin, splattering across the stone floor.

“Aldric! I’m wet, I’m getting water every⁠—”