Page 115 of She Walks with Broken Things

I was going to come.

“Alaric.” She breathed my name against my lips.

“Take it…” I groaned, ready to fall to my goddamn knees. “Take what you need.”

She braced her hand on the back of the sofa, then slid it to my shoulder, gripping tight. I eased back and opened my eyes. Darkness greeted me. The same as always. But her breath lingered against my mouth.

The fire crackled.

She rocked.

Moaning.

Her weight shifted.

Harder this time.

My thigh tightened instinctively. Every part of me wanted closer.

She let out a low, guttural moan. The sound wasn’t like her… and yet it was her. Every bit of her. This was the Nyssa no one saw. The Nyssa she kept private. And she was letting me see.

My pulse thundered.

I didn’t dare move.

Her heat rocked against me.

Harder this time.

Her nails drove into my shoulder. I clenched my jaw, biting a groan. My thighs spread wider. Giving her all the hard ridges she needed. Her breaths quickened. Mine were gone.

“Oh…” she whimpered. “Oh, Alaric.”

The groan escaped.

That only seemed to ignite her. She jutted her hips forward, her thigh driving against my cock. Rubbing me. I unleashed a groan. She dropped her head back, driving harder this time, but she eased her knee, riding all the way along my shaft.

Flickers came as she drove harder.