The Immortal (Rise of the Warlords 2)

Let’s see what I can do to unleash it.

Ophelia glided her wetness up and down his shaft, again and again, until he was as slick as she was. Rubbing. The friction stole her breath.

A crack spread through the wood that rimmed the sofa. “Don’t you have something to say to me, nymph? Say it.”

Mmmm. “I like that this is even better than I remember.”

His irises blazed. “What else?”

“I adore the way you respond to me.” Unhurried, throbbing, she hovered her face over his. “I love your heat.”

Danger, danger! She’d just dropped the L word.

His sizzling gaze slid down her throat, burning her skin. A little vulnerable and a lot angry, he asked, “Do you like running from me?”

Still smarting about that, was he? “I do,” she admitted, “but I think I like being caught by you more.” A whip of her hips. Desire rippled from one erogenous zone to another. “I think I’ll like reciprocating best.”

His lashes lifted, and their gazes locked. They breathed each other’s breath. “I get reciprocation.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Take it from me then,” he rushed to say. “Take your orgasm.”

Again, he commanded while putting all power in her hands. Heady. “Yes, I’ll take it.” Did she slur her words? “Because you need me to take it, don’t you, Halo? Me, specifically.” Her turn to play. “Isn’t that right? But why? Why me specifically? Admit it.”

“Look at you,” he breathed, as if he hadn’t heard her. Maybe he hadn’t. A sun seemed to dawn in his irises. The alevala frozen on his skin, every set of eyes watching her.

Locks of inky hair sticking out in spikes, thanks to her many tugs. He looked like the epitome of sex itself.

She quickened her pace and nipped his bottom lip. Pleasure and pressure mounted, one feeding off the other.

“You love this. You love what my body does to yours...and what yours does to mine.” He whispered the words into her ear. “You love feeling what you do to me.”

The L word, used thrice more. She shook her head no, because she loved only harpies and home—but she didn’t cease grinding on him.

“Feel every inch of me against you.” Gripping her backside, he seized control of her motions, her pace. He rubbed them together, faster and harder, stripping her of sanity. “This is for you. Only you.”

“Only me.” More pressure and pleasure. And it was good. So, so good and only getting better as they mimicked sex. He rolled his hips so quickly, his shaft vibrated against her. All she could do was gasp his name and moan. “So close...just need... I need...”

Angling his grip, he plunged two fingers inside her from behind. At the same time, her clit grazed his shaft.

Just like that, Ophelia erupted, hot springs of pleasure flooding her, drowning her sweetly. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“You’re squeezing my fingers, Elia,” he gritted out, a male in pain as she luxuriated in bliss. He evinced as much agony as ecstasy.

As she floated down from her high, hungrier than ever, something superseded her own need—a yearning to ease Halo. To satisfy him. Because he mattered to her. Because he was...more?

“Elia,” he croaked, still fingering her from behind as if he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Thrusting the digits in and out. Rubbing against her core.

Her knees knocked against the settee, and her heart thundered. As she shot into a second climax, a hoarse sound escaped him.

“Don’t want to stop this, want my reciprocation, but you’re going to make me stop, aren’t you? No female lovelier than—” He threw back his head and roared at the ceiling, falling over the edge with her.

She only craved more.

When his breathing calmed, he pulled his fingers from her—not ready!—and sagged against the cushions, panting and dazed. Beautiful. Truly relaxed for the first time. “It only gets better,” he breathed.

“Don’t tell me you’re done.” As she sulked, his lips twitched. “Has the nymph exhausted the big, bad immortal? Or did you have a full systems crash and have to reboot?”

“Not even close to done. Just in the middle of a software update,” he quipped, and she barked out a laugh.

The Astra had jokes. She kissed his lips before wiggling off his lap, standing and tossing him the discarded shirt. “Perhaps the right inspiration will help speed things along.”

Sunlight streamed in from multiple windows, spotlighting him as he wiped his torso clean. He never pulled his gaze from her, his spinning irises drinking her in as if she were a fine wine. “I’m ready.”

Balancing on shaky legs, she shimmied out of her dress.

“And now I’m inspired.” His fly gaped open, his growing arousal on display. “Come here,” he said, and stroked himself.

Sexy Astra. Eager, she stepped into that beam of sunlight to place herself between his parted legs. He sat up and lightly traced the backs of her thighs, his fingertips like mini branding irons. Warmth and goose bumps spread over her skin—skin without stardust.