Page 74 of Tethered Fates

And from the bulge in Sen’s sweats, he wants it just as much.

His focus is singularly locked on me, and having him on his knees is so fucking…

“And I…can do whatever I want?” I whisper, barely able to catch my breath, rubbing the silk of Sen’s hair between two fingers.

“Teagan.” He says my name like it’s a sweet he wants to suck on. “I am all yours.”

I rip my T-shirt off. “Only fair, right?” I say, taking that lock of hair again.

A low groan leaves Sen as he pushes toward me. “Only fair.”

But like a leash on something fanged and dangerous, the lock of hair I’ve got wrapped around my finger goes taut—stopping Sen from pushing his face into my stomach.

He grunts, then inches away from my skin, heated by the hot air pushed from his lungs, as he sits back on his heels.

My eyes widen at the power trip, the tension in the room thickening. Saliva pools in my mouth so I have to keep swallowing.

“Nice tattoo.” Sen’s hushed voice is as indulgent as melted dark chocolate, as his gaze scans my chest and the wings stamped there. “Who gave it to you?”

“Jealous?”

“That someone else got to touch you?” His eyes darken. “Yes.”

I let loose an excited whimper, and without giving it much thought, I let go of his silky strands so I can pull down my jeans and underwear in one motion, kicking them away.

I go to look back down at Sen, then freeze at the soft cock between my legs.

I’d forgotten about it for a moment. Sickly frustration and shame knot in my stomach. I don’t want Sen, who’s so obviously hard and the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, to rethink what we’re doing. But more than anything, I just fucking hate that my body is betraying me.

Sen groans, his large hands grabbing my thighs and stroking up. He shoves his face into my hip and mouths my skin. “Fuck, Teagan,” he moans, leaving a trail of open-mouth kisses, “I just want to taste you.”

Whatever I was feeling before is swallowed by a wave of desire that nearly bowls me over. For a split second, I think about just falling into his lap and riding his sizeable bulge. But I want this to last; it’s been too long since I enjoyed sex, and the anticipation of making Sen wait—making me wait—is even better.

So, with that single strand of hair—slowly, gradually, I pull him back. He follows, his face stormy with need. A wet spot grows on his sweats where his dick is. My veins flood with a buzzing rush that leaves me lightheaded.

“I didn’t say you could touch me…” I whisper.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Sen replies, dark as the shadows he’s draped in.

I sink my teeth into my lower lip, gaze dragging all over his body, so much to explore and touch and taste.

“Hand me the lube,” I tell him, grinning and voice shaking.

Sen lifts the clear bottle to his lips, runs it across his mouth, and I track every movement before he slowly presents it to me.

Swallowing, and with a hand trembling from eagerness, I take it.

“You asked about my prostate?” I ask quietly, snicking open the lube. The clear liquid catches the barely-there light as I pour, so as it drips across my fingers, my dark skin shines pearlescent black.

For a split second, I imagine painting us. I think about the colours and the lighting, the shapes and melding two bodies into one. I think about how fucking hot it’d be.

“Slip those pretty, slick fingers inside yourself,” he purrs. “Find your prostate, and I promise…” he watches the lube drool down my wrist and runs his tongue along his teeth. “You’ll feel so fucking good it won’t matter how hard you are.”

Our eyes lock. Clash. Pull under a torrent of desire so strong I don’t think either of us will survive it.

Without looking away—without Sen blinking—I drop my back against the wall, the painted arms that hunger and claw surrounding me. Slowly, I raise my foot and rest it on Sen’s shoulder.

“You’ll help me out, won’t you, slick?” I ask, my husky voice stretching out each word.