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His lips found mine. His kiss was surprisingly soft and gentle. “I just want this to be good for you. I don’t know who you’ve been with before, what you’ve done. I don’t need to know any of that. I’m just saying, I want this to be good. Between us. Tonight.”
“I do, too,” I said, suddenly shy.
He was being sweet. I didn’t want sweet. I hadn’t planned for sweet. I had planned for fast and rough, surprising and quick. That was all I had been able to imagine ahead of time.
“I want this, I do. Please, believe me. And it will be good. Because... it’s us,” I said softly.
And I knew it was true. Irrefutably true.
He nodded.
Then he slid into me as his lips touched mine again.
My thighs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he pushed inside, stretching me to my limits, taking me and making me completely his with one long stroke.
I lifted my hips, meeting him as he thrust, fucking him back, and forcing him deeper.
He lowered his mouth to mine, hungrily, desperately, kissing me with a fierceness that left me shaken and panting.
It wasn't the fucking I should have been worried about, I realized with a jolt.
It was his kiss.
He kissed me as if he couldn't get enough of me. As if he couldn't fuck me without kissing me. As if he needed me, every inch of me, as if my body were a part of his own and we were becoming one.
His hands slid along my body as he stroked his cock in and out. My skin was on fire, pleasure sending me spinning and soaring. The bliss was so sublime it was rapidly becoming unbearable.
I could feel the heat simmering over my skin, sizzling and steaming.
This had never happened with Vesper, I thought hazily. Not like this.
Draven took me again and again, his cock hard and relentless as he held my hips with a surety and possessiveness I secretly adored.
I wanted him deeper still. More and more and still more. Never ending. Never stopping.
The simmer became a boil. The pleasure grew inside me, building to a powerful point as our bodies collided over and over.
I touched my hands to his chest and then gasped. My golden-hued skin was glowing. More than it usually did. The silver markings were moving over my skin, rolling and swirling like liquid fire in a cauldron.
I removed my hands quickly, grasping the bed sheets instead.
“Draven,” I said, my voice a little frantic.
He gave a long, slow, beautiful thrust and I gasped, arching my back.
“You're mine,” he growled. “All mine.”
“Don't stop,” I gasped, forgetting about the sheets. “Don't ever stop.”
And then he was thrusting deeper, pushing me over the edge, and I was begging, groaning, cursing, sobbing, crying his name and the flames were shooting out of me as my body clenched around him and a climax tore through me so deep that I was lost.
I heard Draven let out his own sound of rapture as pleasure crested through him. His forehead came down to rest against mine, his breath hot on my face as I felt him spill into me with a groan.
There was silence for a moment.
I was afraid to move my hands.
Finally, I lifted them.
