Page 170 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

My head dropped back, and I’d clutched the sheets so tight that my nails were ripping through them. His hips thundered against mine, the sounds of our bodies meeting one another grew louder and harsher, my skin heating and turning red where we joined.

Kilian Castemont was not gentle. Kilian Castemont didn’t do gentle. No. The man fucked.

His grip on my hips was bruising as he plunged in and out of me with such force the bed shook on its hinges. Too late to worry about my moans.

He bent down at me, slowing a little as he trailed a hand from my hip to my breasts, playing with their hardened centre, kneading and squeezing before trailing that hand to wrap around my neck. The pressure, the pleasure, the warmth in my belly made my eyes roll back and I moaned. “Kilian, shit.”

“I knew you could take me,” he whispered over my mouth. “I knew you would take me so well.” His free hand slid down my belly to my core and I jerked a little when he rubbed the pad of his finger over the sensitive flesh. The pleasure was blinding. Every part of my body curled from the fluttering sensation. I didn’t know if I was breathing or whimpering or moaning because whatever was leaving my mouth was drowned by the sounds of his body meeting mine, the hinges shaking and the bed frame rocking against the wooden floor. “Come for me, love. Soak my cock. Come all over my cock.”

I grabbed onto his back, anything to hold, nails raking down his muscular spine as his thrusts grew punishing, faster, harder. And I couldn’t think or see or breathe, nearly delirious as my climax crashed hard like an angry sea against rock.

“Fuck, I love that sound.” He didn’t stop. Gripping on the head board above me, he held on tight as he rammed his cock inside of me, prolonging my release and chasing another.

His brows bunch a little, making the little space between them wrinkle and his mouth parted just slightly. His eyes bore into mine and he let out a small, pained groan before I felt him spill inside of me.

His thrust turned gentle and unhurried as he left soft pecks all over my face. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, kissing both my cheeks, sinking his teeth gently on my skin and tugging playfully. “Pretty and blushing.”

I could swear my vision had gone blurry for a few seconds as he held me against him to gather my breath.

What had we done?

I knew the signs of addiction. The rush to have more. The feeling of always wanting more. To crave it every moment of the day.

Kilian Henrik Castemont had just become my new addiction.

He breathed hard and so did I. We stood there, forehead to forehead for a long while.

He pulled out of me and rose to his haunches, staring down at me, his muscled chest still rising and falling rapidly. And there it was. That little smile that had me look away like a shy schoolgirl. “I want you every day like this. On my bed.” His fingers circled my swollen sex and I flinched. “Fucked red and raw and stuffed with my come.”

Chills ran through me.

With one last look at me, he stood and headed to the bathroom, and I got a full peep of his backside.

Gloriously naked and carved like a god, he came back holding a damp cloth. Sitting on my side, he propped my legs apart. I winced a little at the friction of the cloth against my skin and he stilled. “Sore?”

“A little.”

He petted my thigh and left a kiss on my knee. “I’m sorry, love.”

“I’m not.”

He dug his teeth on his bottom lip as if to hold back a smile and continued to wipe the mess he’d made.

The mess. Oh gods. “Do you take the potion?”

He bent down and kissed my belly. “Yes. I’d like for the mother of my children not to hate me first before I have them. And besides, unless you want us to hurry, I’d like to have you for myself for a bit.”

I kicked his shoulder with a foot. “Not funny.”

He chuckled, grabbing onto my foot and kissing my ankle, tongue swirling over my flesh, and my core heated again. “It was a little.”

After dressing me and wrapping us with a blanket, we laid silently on the bed, my cheek pressed to his warm shoulder rising and falling with still rapid breaths. Did we just do that? I would have done a little dance of victory if I wasn’t laying on him.

“You said that you’d make sweet love to me,” I croaked in the ear-piercing silence.

His hand worked through my hair, pulling it aside from my face. “That I did.”

My head jerked up. He looked confused, his brow slowly raising in question. “What?”