Breathless, she replied, “No, you want to give yourself what you crave more than air.”
He rocked against her. “You want me all to yourself. You would kill other women to be with me. You care for me. Admit it.” He craved the words as much as her body.
She trembled against him, ribbons of silky pink draping the pillows. “You would cry if you lost me.”
He thought he...might. “You think I’m special.”
Beams of sunlight stroked her, and suddenly she appeared dusted in diamond powder. Her emerald eyes glinted with agonized bliss. When he rocked his hips faster, her lips parted on a broken gasp. The sexiest sound he’d ever heard.
“I do care. About you,” she replied, her tone ragged. Her expression was gut-wrenchingly vulnerable. “I really do. There. Are you happy now?”
Yes! And no. He needed to remain emotionally distant, but her gentle admission cut through his defenses, soothing a wound that had festered for thousands of years. Never should have been birthed? Wrong, Wrathling. This unicorn needed me to be born. I alone have the power to sate her desires.
“I care about you, too, sundae.” The admission slipped from him unbidden as he thrust against her.
She moaned, and he only wanted more. More of her moans. All of her loyalty. Her complete trust in him. Even her love.
How can I expect her trust when I do not offer mine? When I continue to hold her captive?
Moments passed as they stared at each other, his awareness of her deepening. He’d never been more cognizant of the difference in their sizes. The tall, muscled warlord and his seemingly fragile unicorn. And shit. Shit! She parted her legs wider, creating a cradle for his shaft, ensuring the tip pressed against her drenched core.
He rocked his hips again, the action necessary for his survival. Satisfaction beckoned, need for her ramping up, up, frothing inside him. More. Now. All, everything.
As she expelled ragged breaths, her heart raced in time to his. Passion-fever flushed her cheeks. “William,” she said, moaning again.
“Sundae? Ready to come already?” So sensitive to his every touch! “What happened to the girl who hates sex, hmm?”
“You killed her with pleasure. I—I don’t want to play anymore. I just want.” Torment in her tone, in her eyes. “Please.”
Growls rumbled from him. Take. What’s. Yours. Claim what’s yours. Yes! William bent his head and snared her lips with his own, a fervor engulfing him. He ached. He throbbed harder than ever before—kissed harder, their tongues thrusting and rolling together.
With her, his pleasure heightened. Every sense engaged. Because he knew her, liked her and, yes, he cared for her. That care made him a conduit for a dizzying rush of madness. And he liked it.
With one hand, she combed her fingers through his hair, blunt-tipped nails scraping his scalp. With the other, she scored his back with more force. The slight sting sharpened his pleasure, until he thought he might spontaneously combust. Worth it.
He kneaded her breasts and pinched her nipples, little gasps escaping her, fraying his control bit by bit. When she pushed him to his back and rose above him once more, he offered no protests. She removed and tossed her bra, those beautiful breasts springing free. Wicked girl. Had he ever wanted like this?
“The panties have to go.” He raked a claw along the center seam, the material falling apart. Contact. Feminine heat seared him.
Control fraying faster.
Beneath his shaft, a small tuft of pink curls that rested between the long lengths of her legs.
When he gyrated his length against her, flesh met flesh and heat met heat. Hot, liquid and world-shattering. He hissed in a breath.
Back arched, she purposely rubbed her core against his erection. In a moment, pleasure became pain, and pain became pleasure.
She kissed down his neck, sucked on his pulse. Control? He had none. Not just frayed anymore, but completely obliterated.
“I want to fuck you,” he snarled.
“Mmm, yes. Wait. No!” Panic flared in her eyes. She planted her hands on his pectorals. “Climax, yes. Sex, no. Not until I’ve decoded the book.”
What had brought that on? He could push for an answer, ending this, or he could move on and find out after. “Very well.” Was he disappointed? Beyond. Would he press her to offer more? Never. No meant no, period. “Kiss me.”
Her hands flew down to cup his jaw. At the same time, he jackknifed to an upright position. They meshed their lips together. Once again, their tongues tangled, her breasts pressing against his chest, her nipples tormenting him every time they moved. Once again, he rocked, rocked, rocked his erection against her, the tip teasing her clitoris, driving him mad.
“The things you make me feel.” Once, twice, she lashed her hips, no longer content to rub. No, she slammed against him with increasing force.
Not enough. Not nearly enough. He gripped the perfect globes of her perfect ass. Soft, yet firm. Mine, all mine. As he squeezed her, he jerked her forward and pistoned his hips.
“More,” she commanded, and he happily obeyed.
Fire rushed through his veins, sweat beading over his skin; smoke enveloped his mind, a drug. He fisted a handful of her hair and lifted her face. Again their eyes met, the rest of the world ceasing to exist.
“William!” She beat her fists into his chest. “Stop.”
“Stop what?” The kissing? Touching? Either way, he would rather die than stop, but in this, her word would always be law.
“Stop messing around and get to the good stuff.”
The good stuff? He blinked rapidly, caught off guard. “Are you complaining about my technique? Again?” As he spoke, he played with her nipples, pinching and flicking them. “Or is my unicorn impatient for her pleasure?”
“Yes!” she said, thrashing beneath him. “You’re going so slow. And you haven’t even fingered me yet. Freesia-ing finish what you started! I’m ready.”
She wanted hard and fast? With pleasure. William twisted, tossing her to her back. As she bounced on the mattress, he moved to stand at the side of the bed, grabbed her ankles and flipped her over. He manhandled her to her hands and knees, purposely rough, always watching her, ensuring her reactions never veered into fear or dismay. No, oh, no. His pleasure-hungry Sunny loved it, purring for more.
“Look at you,” he said, marveling. Her breasts. Her ass...her feminine core. At this angle, he could see all his favorite parts. “Absolute, utter perfection.”
With a waterfall of pink hair cascading over her back, she glanced over her shoulder and gifted him with the softest, sweetest smile. Things inside him beginning to crack. Resistance, reluctance. Civility, perhaps. His heart nearly stopped, the need to pleasure, protect and be with Sunny overtaking him completely, perhaps even rewriting his DNA.
The male who’d sought satiation and merriment in the arms of countless others, desperate to feel wanted, burned to ash. From those ashes arose a male with new purpose. I will have Sunny and no other!
She was passion, temptation, carnality and l
ust. She was seduction incarnate. And she was his. “Do you trust me, sundae?”
“I...do.” She sounded surprised. “You won’t hurt me.”
“That’s right. You will never have reason to fear me. In this, I’ll never take what you do not offer, or push for more than you’re willing to give. If I do something you don’t like, tell me, and I’ll stop immediately. Your consent, your enjoyment, mean everything. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said, a tremor in her voice. “Please, William. More.”
Her passion-glazed gaze heated as she watched him climbed back onto the bed. He remained on his knees, his legs between hers, and flattened a hand in the center of her back. With a little push, he made her lean down, positioning her magnificent ass higher in the air. Her lovely face rested against a pillow.
Seeing her like this... His body felt like it was strung tighter than a bow. In, out. He extended an arm between her legs, saying, “Give me your hand.”
Without hesitation, she reached back. Holding on to her wrist, he guided one of her fingers inside her drenched sheath. When he felt it was sufficiently wet, he replaced the digit with another. He repeated the process until all five fingers were coated in her honey. Her moans came continuously, caressing his ears.
His tremors worsened as he positioned his erection against her pink, pouty lips. The heat! Though he wanted only to sink inside her, he resisted, calling on every bit of power, magic and resolve. The moment he felt he had a modicum of control, he began to move, mimicking the motions of sex, rubbing his shaft against her swollen little clitoris.
As she gasped his name, he told her, “Fingers on my cock, sundae.”
Again she obeyed without hesitation. He continued to move, rocking back and forth. Back and forth. Right into her palm. She squeezed him, magnifying his pleasure a thousandfold.
“So big,” she praised. “So hard.”
He rotated, changing the angle of his thrusts. The tip of his shaft hit her where she needed him most, and she cried out. Again. And again. With a hand resting on her lower back, he glided his thumb to the crack of her ass. She moaned louder. Faster. On his next inward glide, he pressed that thumb into her ass.