He wrenched his mouth free of hers, commanding, “Keep doing that.”
She kept doing that. Rocking, rocking. Panting, she arched back, lifting her arms and mass of hair at the same time. As the silken strands tumbled down, she cupped her breasts. With her lips red, wet and kiss-puffed, she was the picture of pleasure. Passion, undiluted and pure.
Fitting, since he was pure, undiluted need.
“Do you crave more of me, Halo?” she purred.
“Why?” He bucked up, a hard glide of zipper against panties. When she cried out, clasping his shoulders for balance, he asked, “Do you want to give me more, Elia?”
“I want... I want.”
“Start the countdown,” he croaked, grazing his thumbs over each amber nipple.
Moaning, she urged him closer. He bent his head and sucked on a pretty peak, then the other. Flicked and laved.
Somehow, Halo maintained control of his actions, mentally tracking the time as he eased the nymph from his shaft, spread her knees wider and removed her tiny panties with a swipe of a claw. His knuckles grazed the heart of her desire, and they both groaned. Soaked.
One minute, fifteen seconds left. No refusal so far. Good. That was good.
He thrust a finger inside her...two...again, again. The feel of this female! Tight. Hot. And wetter by the moment. Halo nearly lost his mind—and his seed!
Thirty seconds. No refusal. Would she wait until the last moment, or had he driven her too close to the edge to stop now?
“Halo! Yes! There!” she cried. As he plunged his fingers in and out, she undulated against him. “I’m so close.”
A bead of sweat trickled from his temple. Steady. He eased the pressure—she chased his fingers, seeking more of them. Of him.
Must have her.
Fifteen seconds. He thrust his fingers deep. Deeper. Ten seconds. In. Out. Faster. Working her. Control fraying.
“Yes! Like that!” Her face tipped up to the ceiling, her eyes closed. She kneaded her breasts and pinched her nipples, and he’d never seen a more sensual sight.
He eased the pressure again.
“No,” she cried, pouting. He glided the pad of his thumb over her clit, and she shouted, “Yes! Yes, Halo. Just like that.”
He worked her closer to the edge...closer...determined, frantic, and desperate.
Three.
Two.
“My time is up.” Though it cost him his sanity, he lifted his head...and removed his fingers from her tight sex. “What is the verdict?”
Banging his shoulders, she cried, “I want more, Astra.”
He gripped her thighs. Desire boiled in his gut. “I’m not sure I believe you. Perhaps I should stop.”
“No! Don’t stop.” Melting on him, all eager supplication, she kissed his lips. Once, twice. Licked. “I want to come. Then we can stop. No, I mean, then you can come. It’ll be your turn. Don’t you want to come, Halo?” She rubbed and caressed, drawing new beads of sweat to his temples. “If you’ve got enough stamina, we can do it all over again and never, never, ever stop.”
“Very well. I’ll grant you this boon, but you’ll owe me. Which means we’re on my timetable now. If you want your orgasm, you’ll have to convince me to give it to you.” Despite his gnawing need for release, he wasn’t sure he’d ever enjoyed himself more. “Tell me why I am the only male you crave.”
* * *
The Astra’s bold demand echoed inside Ophelia’s mind, and it was as sexy as everything else. He’d worked her body to a fever pitch. She was sensitive everywhere, only able to focus on a single goal: coming and coming and coming. She ached for him.
He oh, so clearly ached, too, and the knowledge thrilled her, feeding a yearning she hadn’t known she possessed. The fact he wanted to play first...even better.
“Is someone fishing for compliments?” she asked.
“Someone is demanding them.” A simple statement uttered with a voice steeped in lust.
Excitement teased her. Why would he demand such a thing unless he cared about her opinion? About her?
Warning! Approaching kryptonite!
“All right. I’ll tell you what I like about you.” Growing drunk on her power, Ophelia eased back just enough to unfasten his leathers. A slow tug lowered the zipper. No underwear. His massive erection sprang free. Her mouth watered for it, and her empty core wept. “For starters, I like the look of you. You’ve got a body built for war and sex.”
Starvation sharpened the planes and angles of his features. He didn’t seem to breathe as he stretched his arms over the couchback. A casual, carnal pose, lurid and lewd. He reminded her of a predator locked on his prey. “What else?”
“I like the feel of you.” She grazed a claw up his entire length. “I like remembering how good it felt with nothing between us.”
Inhale. Exhale. “What else?”
She settled her bare sex over his. No penetration, just contact, and they both hissed. On the edge of the couch, his knuckles leached of color. A testament of his fierce struggle to resist the urge to touch her? Deep down, he must seethe with sensual ferocity.