Willing Sacrifice
Page 55
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His cock grazed her stomach. He felt the hot, slick wetness welling from him as he rubbed against her. The movement was involuntary. His poor lust-hazed mind couldn’t seem to slow down and ease off the throttle. He’d wanted this—her—for too long.
All those months of being trapped inside his wasted body had left him little to do but fantasize. She’d come to him every day to feed him, bathe him and generally keep his ass alive. She was so sweet, so wounded. He knew she’d been abused. The marks were all over her when he found her. Still, as scared as she was, she still came to him, trying to repay him for something that needed no thanks.
Because of the demon that had poisoned him, he’d been too weak to hurt her. He knew that was what gave her the courage to show up every day, but he still cherished his time with her. And as time passed, he stopped seeing her as the sweet girl he’d rescued and started seeing her as a kind and loving woman—one with a body that made him lie awake at night, sweating and dreaming of what he’d do to her if he ever had the chance.
That chance was now, but all of those fantasies were jumbled up, too tangled for him to pull out a single one to make it come true.
He traced the line of her arm, lingering as his path led him down her ribs. She shivered at his touch, which only made him want to touch her more—something he hadn’t thought possible. The lower his fingers ran, the more powerful her reaction became. She arched toward him, breathing faster, growing warmer.
Her hands splayed against his back, her fingers digging into his skin like she couldn’t get enough of him. The idea went to his head, giving him a feeling of power that not even the magic flowing through his veins could match.
She broke the kiss. Her mouth moved across his jaw, down his neck. She placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along his skin, biting and nibbling just enough to leave a pleasurable sting in her wake. When she reached his luceria, she slowed. Her tongue delved beneath the magical band, touching flesh that was more often covered than not. He was ultrasensitive here, and each flickering swipe of her tongue made him burn hotter.
“Enough,” he said as he eased her onto her back. “It’s my turn to make you burn.”
Chapter 23
Grace didn’t know what Torr meant. She was already about to combust.
Her skin danced with tingling flames. Every inch of her body ached to get closer to his. She wanted him to cover her, consume her. There was too much space between them, and if he didn’t give her what she needed, she was certain it would kill her.
He rose above her, supporting his weight with his arms. Muscles bulged beneath his tan skin. A mist of sweat glistened across his chest. His scent filled her head, making her insides melt, but it was his eyes, bright and gleaming with wicked intent, that were her undoing.
He stared at her body, devouring her inch by inch. She felt that stare like a physical touch. When his gaze moved over her breasts, her nipples tightened until they were almost painful.
She needed his mouth on them again, soothing them with his tongue.
Grace tried to tell him that, but as soon as her lips parted, he kissed her again, robbing her of all ability to speak.
His hands roamed her body. They were so big, leaving wide swaths of heat wherever they went. He was gentle but gave her no chance to resist what he wanted to do. By the time he pulled away from her mouth, his hand was covering her mound, with just the tip of one finger sliding between her labia.
As soon as he felt how wet she was, he went still and pulled in a hissing breath. His eyes shut tight, but when he opened them, his gaze locked with hers.
“Sweet Grace. You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Is that bad?”
“No. Not even close.”
His finger slid along her folds, gliding easily to her core. If anyone had ever touched her like this before, she couldn’t remember. Didn’t even want to. Her entire world was right here, right now—just her and Torr.
He watched her while he moved inside her, as if expecting her to tell him to stop. She couldn’t even imagine such a horrible thought, not when his hand was between her legs, his skin lightly grazing across her clit as he entered her.
The sensation was almost too much. He’d barely even begun to touch her, and she was already feeling a steady kind of pressure building where he moved.
She grabbed his wrist, unsure if she wanted to make him slow down or move faster. Instead, he froze.
Sweat lined his brow. “Do I stop?”
“No. It’s just… a lot.”
A dark smile of conquest spread across his face. “Not yet, it’s not.”
He pressed deeper and stroked some magical spot inside her that made her see stars. Her fingers dug into his wrists, but all that did was allow her to feel his tendons shift with whatever it was he was doing to her.
He slid out, just long enough for her to mourn the loss of his touch before he gathered her juices on a second finger and moved within her again.
The stretch was good. Really good. She forgot all about trying to restrain him and simply let go and gave in. By the time he had a third finger easing inside her, it wouldn’t have mattered if she wanted to stop him or not. She was too boneless, too breathless.
His mouth latched onto her nipple. He blew across the wet tip, making it tighten more. When his teeth grazed across her, biting just hard enough for her to feel it, that pressure he’d built within her detonated like a bomb.
She shattered, flying apart into a million sparkling pieces. Just when she was sure that the pleasure was over and what was left of her was going to drift off on the slightest breeze, the next wave of her orgasm crashed against her, shocking her with its intensity.
Torr’s hand kept moving, kept urging her through the next shimmering pulse until she was shaking and unable to catch her breath.
His head lifted and he wore an expression of complete male satisfaction. “You are such a miracle. Utterly stunning.”
She couldn’t speak. There wasn’t enough air in her lungs for anything more than her rapid panting breaths.
He cradled her body close, stroking her while the storm eased. As soon as she felt whole again, he lifted her and moved until he was lying flat on the ground with her sitting astride him. His erection lay heavily on his abdomen. She could feel its thick length hot against her sex, see the tip of it rising past her mound. Wetness welled at the end of his penis, forming a pearly drop. His big hands cupped her hips, and she could feel her own juices clinging to his fingers. More coated him as she rubbed her labia over his hard length. Blatant male need tightened his jaw, giving him an almost feral expression.
All those months of being trapped inside his wasted body had left him little to do but fantasize. She’d come to him every day to feed him, bathe him and generally keep his ass alive. She was so sweet, so wounded. He knew she’d been abused. The marks were all over her when he found her. Still, as scared as she was, she still came to him, trying to repay him for something that needed no thanks.
Because of the demon that had poisoned him, he’d been too weak to hurt her. He knew that was what gave her the courage to show up every day, but he still cherished his time with her. And as time passed, he stopped seeing her as the sweet girl he’d rescued and started seeing her as a kind and loving woman—one with a body that made him lie awake at night, sweating and dreaming of what he’d do to her if he ever had the chance.
That chance was now, but all of those fantasies were jumbled up, too tangled for him to pull out a single one to make it come true.
He traced the line of her arm, lingering as his path led him down her ribs. She shivered at his touch, which only made him want to touch her more—something he hadn’t thought possible. The lower his fingers ran, the more powerful her reaction became. She arched toward him, breathing faster, growing warmer.
Her hands splayed against his back, her fingers digging into his skin like she couldn’t get enough of him. The idea went to his head, giving him a feeling of power that not even the magic flowing through his veins could match.
She broke the kiss. Her mouth moved across his jaw, down his neck. She placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along his skin, biting and nibbling just enough to leave a pleasurable sting in her wake. When she reached his luceria, she slowed. Her tongue delved beneath the magical band, touching flesh that was more often covered than not. He was ultrasensitive here, and each flickering swipe of her tongue made him burn hotter.
“Enough,” he said as he eased her onto her back. “It’s my turn to make you burn.”
Chapter 23
Grace didn’t know what Torr meant. She was already about to combust.
Her skin danced with tingling flames. Every inch of her body ached to get closer to his. She wanted him to cover her, consume her. There was too much space between them, and if he didn’t give her what she needed, she was certain it would kill her.
He rose above her, supporting his weight with his arms. Muscles bulged beneath his tan skin. A mist of sweat glistened across his chest. His scent filled her head, making her insides melt, but it was his eyes, bright and gleaming with wicked intent, that were her undoing.
He stared at her body, devouring her inch by inch. She felt that stare like a physical touch. When his gaze moved over her breasts, her nipples tightened until they were almost painful.
She needed his mouth on them again, soothing them with his tongue.
Grace tried to tell him that, but as soon as her lips parted, he kissed her again, robbing her of all ability to speak.
His hands roamed her body. They were so big, leaving wide swaths of heat wherever they went. He was gentle but gave her no chance to resist what he wanted to do. By the time he pulled away from her mouth, his hand was covering her mound, with just the tip of one finger sliding between her labia.
As soon as he felt how wet she was, he went still and pulled in a hissing breath. His eyes shut tight, but when he opened them, his gaze locked with hers.
“Sweet Grace. You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Is that bad?”
“No. Not even close.”
His finger slid along her folds, gliding easily to her core. If anyone had ever touched her like this before, she couldn’t remember. Didn’t even want to. Her entire world was right here, right now—just her and Torr.
He watched her while he moved inside her, as if expecting her to tell him to stop. She couldn’t even imagine such a horrible thought, not when his hand was between her legs, his skin lightly grazing across her clit as he entered her.
The sensation was almost too much. He’d barely even begun to touch her, and she was already feeling a steady kind of pressure building where he moved.
She grabbed his wrist, unsure if she wanted to make him slow down or move faster. Instead, he froze.
Sweat lined his brow. “Do I stop?”
“No. It’s just… a lot.”
A dark smile of conquest spread across his face. “Not yet, it’s not.”
He pressed deeper and stroked some magical spot inside her that made her see stars. Her fingers dug into his wrists, but all that did was allow her to feel his tendons shift with whatever it was he was doing to her.
He slid out, just long enough for her to mourn the loss of his touch before he gathered her juices on a second finger and moved within her again.
The stretch was good. Really good. She forgot all about trying to restrain him and simply let go and gave in. By the time he had a third finger easing inside her, it wouldn’t have mattered if she wanted to stop him or not. She was too boneless, too breathless.
His mouth latched onto her nipple. He blew across the wet tip, making it tighten more. When his teeth grazed across her, biting just hard enough for her to feel it, that pressure he’d built within her detonated like a bomb.
She shattered, flying apart into a million sparkling pieces. Just when she was sure that the pleasure was over and what was left of her was going to drift off on the slightest breeze, the next wave of her orgasm crashed against her, shocking her with its intensity.
Torr’s hand kept moving, kept urging her through the next shimmering pulse until she was shaking and unable to catch her breath.
His head lifted and he wore an expression of complete male satisfaction. “You are such a miracle. Utterly stunning.”
She couldn’t speak. There wasn’t enough air in her lungs for anything more than her rapid panting breaths.
He cradled her body close, stroking her while the storm eased. As soon as she felt whole again, he lifted her and moved until he was lying flat on the ground with her sitting astride him. His erection lay heavily on his abdomen. She could feel its thick length hot against her sex, see the tip of it rising past her mound. Wetness welled at the end of his penis, forming a pearly drop. His big hands cupped her hips, and she could feel her own juices clinging to his fingers. More coated him as she rubbed her labia over his hard length. Blatant male need tightened his jaw, giving him an almost feral expression.
