Tangling his fist in her hair, Artem panted hard against the soft, sweat-slicked skin of her throat. He wasn’t the only one who could play the game of sensual torture, though.
Unwrapping his tail from around her calf, he slid it between their bodies to stroke her heated skin. He was careful with the spiked end, of course, but he knew what he was doing. In seconds, Paloma was rocking her hips into his with abandon, a string of broken babble falling from her lips as he picked up the pace.
“My mate in my nest,” he purred, dragging his lips up to hers. Pausing to give her plush lower lip some much-needed attention, he panted, “Do you want to come, sweet treat?”
She curled her fingers around the hard bar of his wrist above her head. It was smart to find something to hold on to. With the way he was moving, he might’ve had to keep pulling her back down otherwise. “Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Who do you want to make you come?” He pressed an open mouth kiss to her jaw, tasting her again. Gods, I fucking love how she tastes. “Who do you want inside of you when you do?”
Her cunt was hot and wet and perfect. When she clenched around him like a vice, Artem cursed under his breath before giving her ear another nip. He wasn’t sure she’d done it on purpose, but he wasn’t about to let her take control this time. He wanted to hear her say she was his and that everything, including her beautiful, tight cunt, belonged to him. “Tell me, sweet treat. Tell me who gets to spoil you. Tell me who gets to fuck this perfect cunt. Tell me who gets to make you come. Tell me who you belong to. Tell me who you Chose, treat.”
He pulled out nearly all the way, palmed her thigh to push her open as wide as she could go, and then thrust back in. “Tell me.”
Paloma threw her head back, her throat arching in a beautiful display of passion, and cried, “You! Artem! Artem!” Her breath stuttered before she began to take in huge, gulping breaths. “Artem, please.”
Every instinct, every dragonish desire, howled with delight at his victory. This beautiful creature with a mind too brilliant for him to ever fully understand was his. He’d won her. He’d built her a nest. He’d kissed her and pleasured her and chased her.
More important than any of that, though, was the fact she Chose him.
Artem brought his wings in close, sealing them into a smaller, darker space full of heat and the scent of sex and every soft sound she made, and kissed her. His tongue tangled with hers as his tail stroked her fast and hard, matching the pace of his jagged thrusts. When she splintered apart beneath him, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
He didn’t think he would ever get tired of the way she reached for him in the moment of purest pleasure, as if she needed him to anchor her there, to keep her from flying away entirely.
Using the arm under her back, he lifted her chest up to press hard against his, bringing them heart to heart, as he chased his own orgasm. Paloma’s head lulled back into the blankets as he buried himself to the hilt one last time and gave her everything he had.
Gasping for breath, he slumped until they were both buried in the pillows and cushions and wonderfully soft blankets. Artem slid down her body just enough to lay his head on her chest, greedy to hear the racing heart that meant so very much to him.
One limp hand came to rest on his tussled curls. Paloma’s voice was dazed, almost slurred, when she asked, “So, what kind of entertainment feeds do you like?”