The Darkest Destiny (Lords of the Underworld 15.50)

Lick. Her next gasp tapered into a ragged moan. The rapture!

He moaned. “Never take this away from me.” Growling, he dove in. Licking. Laving. Thrust, mimicking sex.

Viola lost her mind, thoughts fragmenting. She could only hold on to his horns and rock.

“I’m so close already,” she cried. Closer…

Viola shattered with a scream.

His ferocity only intensified. “More!” Brochan dove in again.

Legs about to give out, she flashed him to the bed, flat on his back, his wings flared.

“My turn,” she purred.

Their gazes met, his silvery irises ablaze, his breaths ragged.

On her knees, she settled between his legs. She kissed along his abdomen, following a tantalizing happy trail. “Will this be another new experience for you?”

“Yes,” he hissed. “Yes. Do it.” The agony he evinced… He braced his weight on an elbow and reached out to cup her nape. “Please, wife. Do it.”

Wife again. Dizzy with excitement, she licked her lips. “Don’t be alarmed when you graduate from thinking you love me to knowing it.”

Viola licked his length. A hoarse curse exploded from him, his fingers tangling in her hair and flexing. When she sucked him, he released her and fell back, gripping the headboard behind him.

“More,” he beseeched.

Always. She brought her hands into play, stroking him as she bobbed.

Incoherent words left him, each coarser than the last. Up, down. Up, down. Faster. Slower. His muscles drew tight.

“Viola! I’m going to… I…won’t be able…can’t…”

She suckled harder. His back bowed as he came. She reveled in his surrender, growing drunk. At the same time, she’d never felt so empty. The ache inside her proved unbearable.

Shooting up, she fastened her mouth on his. Their tongues twined as he rolled her to her back. With his wings stretched wide, he wedged himself between her thighs, snaked an arm beneath one of her knees and lifted her, creating a cradle for himself.

Yes! His shaft pressed against her opening, and she whimpered.

“Can’t get enough of you. Need more,” he snarled. “Need forever.”

Desperate, she cupped his cheeks, the same way he’d once cupped hers. “Take me, beast. I’m yours.”

With a bellow of pleasure-pain, he surged, filling her. Yes! She clutched at him. Her claws sliced his back, sensation pulling her strings.

“Brochan!” Clutching turned to clinging. Here he was, the suitor who’d fought so hard to win her. The warrior who killed for her. The male who prized her.

He pulled out. Plunged back in. Again. Again. Sweat dripped from him. His lips remained stretched over his teeth. Viola lost herself in the throes, every motion fueling the fires of her need. The way he moved, so carnal and possessive.

His big body thrust into hers. Harder. Faster. Blissful friction. Rapturous torment. Beneath him, she writhed and thrashed. Cried out. Pleaded.

He watched her face the entire time, his concentration terrifyingly, gloriously intense. Judging her every reaction to ensure maximum enjoyment?

Undone. “Brochan!” she screamed, a climax detonating.

Guttural sounds left him. A single flap of his wings. His body jerked upright. He held on tight, bringing her with him—remaining buried as she perched on his lap. The next thing she knew, he was hammering into her. He claimed her lips in a brutal kiss. They exchanged breaths and moans, her pleasure rolling on and on.

When she wrenched free to bite the tendon that ran between his neck and shoulder, he threw back his head and bellowed, “Yes, Viola! Yes!” He shuddered against her, his grip bruising. Then they both stilled.

Minutes passed in a suspended reality. They were panting but motionless, trapped in a state somewhere between starved and sated. The time the brain needed to catch up with the stomach.

A smile bloomed. She would feel him later, even when they were apart, and she would know she wasn’t alone.

“That was…that…” he stammered. Air seeped from a slit in his lips.

“Mind-blowing. I know.” Breathless, boneless, she collapsed on him. Emotions, now untethered, rose and swamped her. Too many to sort through. She only knew she’d never felt so…vulnerable.

This man could break her beyond repair.

He wound his strong arms around her, fusing her against him. “Never letting you go, kitten. Never,” he snarled, as if she’d threatened to leave. As she thrilled over his possessive display, he toppled her to the mattress and loomed above her. “I’m going to make you mine again. All day. All night.”

To Viola’s delight, he kept his word.

Chapter Fourteen

Brochan held an exhausted and sleeping-like-the-dead Viola close. They lay on the bed, her body molded to his. He combed his fingers through her hair and traced the ridges of her spine. He’d lost count of the number of times they’d made love, his need for the little beauty unquenchable. He’d tasted true passion, and he knew—knew—he could never live without it again.

All this time, he had considered himself as deathless. The truth was, he’d been a walking corpse until Viola entered the picture. She’d brought him to life. She’d become his mate, his lover, and his lifeline. His only future.