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There’s no air. There’s only the gentle sound of water, swishing and swirling.
He grips my thighs and sucks me harder. I reach for the surface, my head breaking through the water, and I gasp as he triggers my release.
Still holding me tightly.
Never relenting.
He’s in complete control, and I’m lost, and I don’t mind.
I float on the surface, and still he caresses me with his tongue.
And at last, I come, gently writhing and twisting as the water holds me aloft; as Corvan’s rough-yet-tender hands encircle my wrists.
I let out a great sigh of contentment as he scoops me up into his harms and lifts me out of the water, gliding up the stone steps, padding across the cavernous chamber without a sound, gently wrapping me in thick, fragrant towels that feel like silk against my bare skin.
Then he carries me down the stone corridor, through silence and into his bedchambers, which are filled with the soft light of dawn. He pulls back the covers and gently deposits me into his soft, luxurious bed. The sheets are buttery silk. A soft floral fragrance surrounds us. I’m warm and spent and tingling all over. The room is toasty, thanks to the fire in the hearth.
Corvan stands at the bedside for a moment, looking down at me. His eyes glow in the firelight. His skin is illuminated by the soft pinkish glow filtering through the windows—the first light of dawn.
He hasn’t dried himself. He’s still wet and glistening from the bath. His hair is slicked back. His body gleams, every rippling muscle and plane accentuated.
My gaze is drawn to his cock, which is unashamedly erect and dangerously hard.
He’s a prime specimen, eyes glowing with thirst and desire.
And my body, still reeling from his decadent caress, yearns for him.
I’m a mess. He’s completely unravelled me.
This wasn’t my intention at all, but when have I ever been in control of my fate?
“Corvan,” I whisper. “Just…”
He leans in and gently caresses my cheek. “I know, Finley. I know.” His voice is deep and smooth and tender, a salve for my desperate need.
He comes into the bed, hovering over me, his gleaming body rapidly drying in the warmth. Only his hair remains damp.
He lowers his lips to my ear and cups my cheek. “Don’t worry about a thing. Everything’s going to be fine.”
He’s warm. Powerful. Right now, he’s everything.
He hooks my leg up, exposing me; tender, throbbing, desperately needing him. One hand goes around my neck. The other, around my thigh.
Something inside him seems to break.
He trembles all over, and the tension inside him spills out through his gaze, which is as hard as rubies and as hot as molten lava.
He enters me slowly, with devastating intent. His cock stretches me and fills me with overwhelming pleasure. Tightly coiled bliss unfurls throughout my body, and I cry out in tension and delight as he fucks me gently.
I become even more lost, cocooned in warm sheets and engulfed by his body. Not a single inch of me desires to be in control right now. It’s allhim.
Ever so slowly, he increases the pressure, moving a little faster, a little harder. He lowers himself until his body is pressed against mine, his heat seeping right through me. Then he puts his lips on my neck, kissing me just above the hollow, and he’s shaking all over, his grip tightening, his motions growing ever more frantic.
I know what he wants.
Apart fromthis, of course.
And I’m surprised at how much I want it too; the exquisite pain of his fangs upon my skin, the feeling of his lips against me, the slow-burning draining of my essence.
