He dropped the shredded denim, looking totally unrepentant. “They thwarted me. I had to take my revenge.”
Her retort dried in her throat as he crawled up the bed. He moved like some great stalking cat, muscles rolling smoothly under a glimmering aura of light.
Cuan ran a finger along the silky edge of her panties. He made a deep hum of approval in the back of his throat. “Now these, I like.”
She was already soaking wet, the satin fabric damp and clinging. She caught her breath as his fingers trailed lower, tickling her inner thigh. She spread her legs, pulse hammering…but he just skipped across to her other leg, tracing the other edge of her panties.
“Cuan.” Her hips bucked, trying to get his hand where she needed it. “Please.”
His golden eyes gleamed. He captured her mouth under his own, silencing her plea. His tongue thrust into her, strong and demanding, even as his rough fingertips continued to stroke and tease without ever quite reaching her aching sex.
Just when she was seriously considering biting him out of sheer frustration, he slipped a finger under her panties. She was so on edge, that first light brush nearly had her levitating off the bed.
Cuan made that deep, satisfied hum again. His hard weight pinned her down. She gasped into his glowing shoulder as his fingers dipped into her folds. He slicked himself in her juices, sliding upward.
She thrashed, mewling helplessly, as his calloused fingertip found her swollen nub. He circled, experimentally at first, then more firmly as he found exactly the right rhythm.
Heat throbbed in her core, gathering even more powerfully than before. There was nothing except him, his hot weight over her, his hand between her thighs.
White ecstasy shook her. Just when she started to come down, he slid a thick finger inside her, pressing up. A fresh jolt of pleasure shot through her.
“Cuan,” she gasped into his mouth. “Enough, I can’t—”
He cut her off with another deep kiss.
“You can,” he whispered. He worked another finger into her, making her clench at how good it felt. “Don’t hold yourself back. You can do more, Tamsin. Show me.”
And she did, much to her surprise. In a shockingly short space of time she was lost again, gripping his thrusting fingers, pulsing around him.
Cuan’s breath came in short, harsh gasps. His chest was beaded with sweat, the droplets glittering like tiny gems in the brilliant light of his faemarks.
“Tamsin.” His voice shook, raw and hoarse. “Forgive me. I wish I could honor you as you deserve, but I cannot—cannot hold back much longer.”
She stared at him. She was panting so hard that it took her a moment to form words.
“Are you serious?” she got out at last. She clawed at his belt. “Fuck honor. Fuck me. Now.”
His eyes lit up even brighter, shining like twin suns. Sliding off the bed, he jerked off his pants, a lot more gracefully than she’d managed to get rid of hers. She had a single moment to appreciate his magnificently taut backside, and then he was back, bracing himself on hands and knees above her.
Okay, so he doesn’t glow down there, she just had time to note—and then his hard hands were on her thighs, spreading her wide. With a single fierce thrust, he slid into her.
She’d thought herself wrung out, but the hard width of his cock proved her wrong. He filled her completely, in a way that even his clever fingers hadn’t been able to manage.
And it was more than just the glorious sensation of being filled and stretched that had her back arcing off the bed, her fingers clawing at his back. It was him. The look on his face, the complete abandon in the way that he pounded into her. The way his eyes locked onto hers, seeing nothing else.
Knowing that she was giving him that intense, overwhelming pleasure redoubled her own. She matched him thrust for thrust, in the grip of instinct. They moved in a rhythm as old and instinctive as breathing, climbing together to ever-greater heights.
Cuan’s hand found hers, gripping hard. He reared up, head thrown back, every muscle in his powerful body going rigid.
“Tamsin,” he gasped. “Tamsin!”
His faemarks flared in a brilliant burst of electric-blue light. She felt him jerk deep within her, and it tipped her over the edge into a final, mind-shattering climax.
When she drifted back to herself—after what felt like a long, long time—she found that it was dark. Cuan was a hot, heavy weight on top of her. His faemarks had gone out. She traced the massive curve of his shoulder, and only the faintest, firefly glimmer followed her fingertips.
“Worth the wait?” she murmured.
His breath tickled the side of her neck as he chuckled. “I believe the appropriate human phrase is: Wow.”