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Eyes locked with his and heart thumping, I slid his hand from my thigh to where I throbbed. My hips jerked at the cool touch against my hot, damp skin.
Radiant wisps of eather lashed through the silver of his eyes. “Show me,” he repeated, voice rough as he skimmed one finger along my center. “Show me what you like, and I will give it to you.”
I could barely breathe as I molded my hand to his. Never in my life had I done something like this. But it felt…so natural. So right. And yet so enticingly scandalous. I moved his thumb with mine, drawing those circles around the bundle of nerves. What air I managed to breathe snagged.
“Is that all?” he asked, his voice a dark, sinful drawl. He moved his thumb under mine. “Or is there more you need, liessa? More you like. Show me.”
It was as if his voice carried a compulsion, one I had to obey. But I was in complete control as I pressed one of his long fingers against my softness, into the heat and wetness. I gasped at the feel of his cool finger parting my flesh before sinking slowly into me.
Ash’s gaze left mine then, falling to where our hands were joined. His chest rose sharply as he watched me—as he watched us as we moved his finger, working it deeper and deeper. And still he watched as I lifted my hips, moving against his fingers and his hand. He didn’t look away. He didn’t even blink when I pressed in another of his fingers, piercing my flesh with it. I didn’t think he breathed. I thought maybe we both stopped as his fingers filled me, stretching my flesh until I felt a bite of discomfort followed by a ripple of acute pleasure.
“You feel…” He inhaled sharply, drawing those fingers out before tracking the rise of my hips with those churning eyes. “So warm. So soft and hot. Wet.” He shuddered, his voice thickening as he thrust his fingers while mine simply clung to his wrist. “You feel like silk and sunshine. Beautiful.” He dragged his teeth over his lower lip, and I thought… I thought his fangs seemed longer, sharper as my back arched over the grass, and I ground against his hand. Something about watching him, watching us, was shocking. It sent my stomach dipping and tumbling. Stretched my nerves until they felt as if they’d snap. “That’s it, liessa, fuck my hand.”
His words scorched my skin, burning through every part of me. My head kicked back, and my eyes fell closed. Blood pounded as my hips rocked and twisted against him. Tension built and coiled tighter and tighter.
He moved over me, chest to chest as his mouth closed over mine once more. The way he kissed was just as wild as the sensations building inside me. My other hand sank into his hair as I did just as he’d demanded with wild abandon. All I could hear was the sound of our kisses and the wet thrust of his fingers. All I could feel was him and the tight tension settling deep in my core, curling and curling. My body went as taut as a bowstring, and then everything unraveled.
His mouth caught the cry of release as pleasure unfurled in wracking spasms, lashing out and flooding pleasure into every nerve, vein, and limb. It was shocking, the waves and waves of pure feeling.
Only when my hand fell away from his wrist did he slowly ease his fingers from me, his mouth from mine. “Beautiful,” he whispered against my swollen lips, and my eyes fluttered open.
“I…” Words failed me when he lifted those two very wicked, glistening fingers. His luminous eyes held mine as he drew them into his mouth. My body arched as if his mouth sucked on my flesh, not his.
I had never seen anything so shameless in my life.
He gri
My heart skipped. “What…what does the sun taste like?”
That curve of his lips was wicked. “Like you.”
His mouth returned to mine. It could’ve been his words, the taste of myself on his lips, or how I could still feel his fingers inside me. It could’ve been all of those things. Whatever it was, it fueled the need to give him what he’d given me. To share that pleasure. I slipped my hand between us, finding his thick, hard length straining against the soft cloth of his breeches. Another ripple of tight pleasure radiated out through me at the feel of him. His entire body jerked, much like mine upon his first touch.
Ash made that dark, luscious sound again as he reached between us, folding his hand over mine. He pressed against my palm, shuddering. “This…this will become more than kissing and touching.”
“Will it?” I’d never heard my voice sound so velvety before. I’d never quite felt my heart beat throughout my body like it did now, as another whirl of anticipation swirled. “I want to do what you’ve done for me.”
His jaw flexed as I cupped him through his breeches. “You have no idea how badly I want that.”
“I want that, too,” I whispered in the space between our mouths.
“It’s not your palm I want wrapped around my cock right now. It’s you I want. Tight and wet and warm,” he breathed, and a deep shiver rolled through me as my grip on him firmed. He groaned. “And if you keep touching me like that, that’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to get inside you, and it won’t be my fingers you’ll be fucking.” He lowered his head again, brushing his lips over mine. “I think you know that.”
I did.
Oh, gods, I totally did.
I swallowed, my hand unsteady as I slid it down over the hard plane of his chest. A hundred thoughts swirled, a battle between impulsivity and caution, recklessness, and wisdom. We’d already gone too far. A part of him had been inside me. He knew what I tasted like. There were countless reasons for why I should heed the latter, and only a few for the former. But those were louder, more incessant.
I didn’t want this, whatever it was, to end quite yet. I didn’t want to return to reality, where I knew I would never feel this again. This abundant wildness. This co
So, I shut down the caution and wisdom. “I know what will happen.”
His lips curled into a smile against mine. “You’re a Princess.”
“So? You’re a god.”
Ash laughed then, the sound a thick and heavy smoke in my veins. “And you shouldn’t be debauched on the floor of a forest.”
“And what if I wasn’t a Princess?” I countered, sliding my hand away from him. “Would it be acceptable to commence with said debauching then?”
Another low laugh teased my lips as his hand grazed the curve of my thigh. “No one should be debauched on the floor of a forest. Especially when they will surely feel the hot bite of regret later.”
“How do you know I would feel regret?”
“You will.” His lips touched the corner of mine.
It occurred to me then that he had to be referring to the consequence that often occurred from a good debauching. A child. I relaxed, relieved that he had the foresight to even think of such things when the thought truly hadn’t even entered my mind. A child born of a mortal and god was extremely rare, so much so that I’d never met one. “That can be prevented,” I whispered, referencing an herb I knew women could take, either before or after, that inhibited such things. “It’s a—”
“I know what it is,” he interrupted. “Surprisingly, that is not what I was talking about.”
I frowned. “Then what exactly do you think I would regret? Or do you think that I don’t know my own wants and needs?”
“You strike me as a person who knows exactly what they want and need,” he returned. “But this is not wise.”
“Then what are you doing?” I demanded, pushing lightly on his chest.
“Attempting to not commence with said debauching.” His hand slid around to my rear, where his fingers pressed into my flesh.
A throbbing pulse of awareness shuttled through me. “In…in case you’re not aware, you have an odd way of not engaging in debauchery.”
“I know,” he replied. “Probably because I don’t have much experience with everything debauching entails.”
Surprise flickered through me. I opened my mouth to ask if he meant what I thought he did—because surely, as a god, he couldn’t—but his lips found mine once more. And kisses…his kisses were very distracting. His lips moved against mine in a slow, drugging way as if he were sipping from my lips. It felt like hours, even though I knew it was only minutes. Not nearly long enough, and then those kisses slowed even more, gentling. There were no more unexpected pricks of his fangs, and with each sweep of his lips and flick of his tongue, I knew we would go no further than this.
And despite how I’d challenged him and his somewhat a
His lips tugged slowly on mine, leaving me in a pleasant haze as his head lifted. I opened my eyes, finding him sca
It took a moment for concern to reach me. “Do you hear something?”
“Nothing like before.” He looked at me as he slid his hand down my leg and then away. “If I stayed, I think I’d find myself obsessed with trying to count just how many freckles you have.”
What he said…it tugged at my heart, and I inhaled sharply. I did not need to feel that.
“But I need to go.”
Forcing my grip on his shoulders to loosen and unsure of how my hands had even gotten there, I nodded.
“I should’ve left already,” he added. “I didn’t expect to linger tonight.”
I ignored the burn of disappointment I felt in the pit of my stomach. “I think tonight was…entirely unexpected.”
“I can agree with that,” he replied and touched my cheek. The act surprised me. Catching a curl, he tugged it straight and then slowly wrapped it around his finger. He stared at the strand of hair, smoothing his thumb over it. “Will you be heading home now to a bed far more comfortable than a forest floor?”
I nodded.
But he didn’t move from atop me, his weight still pleasant in an intoxicating sort of way. While he appeared momentarily engrossed in my hair, I took the opportunity. Seized it, actually. I swept my gaze over his brow and the proud line of his nose, the angular height of his cheekbones, and those shockingly soft lips. I took in the cut of his jaw and the faint scar in his chin. I committed those details to memory as I had the feel of his flesh against mine and how my lips still tingled from the touch of his.
I blew out a soft breath. “If you’re to leave, you will need to let go of my hair.”
“True,” he murmured, easing his finger from the twist. He didn’t let the hair fall. Instead, he swept it back behind my ear with a gentleness I decided I also could not remember.