The Darkest Touch
Page 113

At last free to touch him however she wished, she ran her hands over his shoulders, his chest...down his stomach. The glory of it was almost too much, as he’d known it would be. Too much, but also perfect. Another dream come true.
“All this strength,” she praised.
“You like?” He curled his hand around his thick length and pumped once, twice through the latex, then tugged on his sac. In the past, he’d always been dissatisfied having a woman watch him, but that was because no other woman was Keeley. When she watched him, the pleasure on her face only added to what he felt.
“Like...and crave.”
“Let’s give it to you, then.” He grabbed her by the ankles and yanked.
As she fell, she gasped with delight. Then, realizing her lower half was hanging over the side of the bed, she moaned. “So naughty.”
He stepped between her legs, anchoring her ankles on his shoulders. The pressure there proved beyond sublime. The sights...more so, her nakedness on display before him. Breasts plump and perfect, nipples swollen and red. Belly quivering. Thatch of blond curls gleaming with her arousal.
“You’re going to feel me in every cell of this sweet body,” he promised. And I will feel her.
“Yes. Do it!”
He surged inside her, too shattered to give her time to adjust. He went all the way in. And oh, damn, the silk of her inner walls...the heat...the wet...every sensation heightened, and glorious, and yet almost unbearable. Too good. Her back arched as she cried out, already coming again. So tight. A vise around him, squeezing at him. He hammered inside her, hard and brutal, again and again, lost in every mind-blowing stroke, craving more of every sensation.
This was pleasure.
This was satisfaction.
This was...life.
But as she neared another peak, he pulled out of her.
She didn’t understand his purpose and whimpered.
He lowered her legs and flipped her to her stomach, then once again thrust inside her. As she praised him, begged him, urged him harder, faster, she reached up and gripped handfuls of the comforter. Soon her cries of yet another completion were blending with his grunts, filling the room. If ever she forgot him...no, no...this moment would be forever branded in her mind—forever imprinted on her soul.
“I’m so close, princess.” He leaned over and bit the sensitive cord running from her neck to her shoulder.
She screamed, coiling around him, her inner walls milking him all over again. This time it wasn’t just too much—it was more than enough. He could hold out no longer. He shattered completely, pouring into her, giving her every drop until she’d wrung him dry.
* * *
THEY LAUGHED AND cuddled for hours—and of course, made love again—and Torin’s happiness only magnified until he practically burst with it.
So far there were no signs of sickness.
The second time they’d made love, she had taken the time to learn him, the way he’d learned her. She had massaged the rigidness from his shoulders before dragging her fingers along the bumps of his spine. The hard mounds of his backside had received an appreciative squeeze. She had moved in front of him and slid her hands down his chest, between their bodies, and fisted the base of his erection. She had traced her thumb over the moist slit, and when he’d groaned his approval, she had licked away the little bead.
She had given him every touch he’d ever craved, and he would never be the same.
“I’m going to make a few improvements to the fortress,” she said, snuggling into his side, running her knee up his leg, “Currently we lack a throne room.”
“And no home is complete without one. Just remember, as my queen your throne needs to be smaller than mine.”
“Sorry, Charming, but even though I’m thrilled you finally admitted to the exalted status of my rule, you’ll be sitting at my feet. We’re going to have what’s called a matriarchy.”
“As old as you are, I’m surprised you haven’t learned how to pronounce that word correctly. It’s patriarchy. Say it with me. Pay-tree-arc-ee.”
She twisted his nipple. “Torture. Say it with me.”
His laughter boomed through the room.
“I will be such a benevolent overlord,” she said. “I will demand only that everyone do exactly as I say, when I say. And bow whenever I enter a room. And bring me gifts at least once a day. And throw rose petals at my feet as I pass.”
“That’s all?”
“Probably not.”
“Sounds fair to me,” he said.
“You’ll be captain of my guard, of course.”
“And I will storm your castle at least three times a day.” He rolled her to her back and gnawed playfully at her neck. “Who am I kidding? Six times a day.”
She screeched with laughter and tried to wiggle away from him. “That tickles! Stop immediately!”
“Never! There’s treasure to be plundered.”
After her laughter had tapered into giggles, she grew quiet. “Torin?”
“Yes, princess?” He licked at the pulse hammering in her neck.
“Are you pleased with the honor to serve under me?”
Such a serious tone. “Me...under you? That’s the way you want it?” He flipped her over, draping her over his lap. “I’m more than pleased with this honor.”
She sat up to straddle him, the tips of her hair brushing his chest. “Oh, I like this.”
Breathtaking. He reached up, fisted the hair at her nape. “Wait till you see what comes next.”