“I disagree. You forget I’ve had centuries to practice restraint and delay pleasure.”
I raised a somewhat mocking eyebrow. “Shall we test that theory out?”
“I’m sure I’ll thoroughly enjoy such an experiment, but do be prepared to fail, my dear.”
I grinned. “I’m going to enjoy watching you beg.”
“Hell will freeze over before that happens.”
I snorted softly and began to rock back and forth, riding him gently, enjoying the feel of his flesh so deep inside and the sensations that flowed from such an intimate and basic connection. Slowly but surely our movements became stronger and his thrusts more urgent, but as the point of no return approached, I withdrew, coming down on all fours, straddling him as I claimed his lips and kissed him long and hard. A dangerous play, given just what his kiss could do to me, but right then, the need to prove he could be made as delirious and needy by our lovemaking as I was just that little bit stronger.
When that sense of urgency finally eased, I repeated the process, riding him until desire and the need for release began throbbing through his flesh and mine. Once more I retreated, and this time he groaned, just as I’d groaned. But that was still a long, long way from begging.
So I began an exploration of his body, kissing and tasting his chest, his abs, his stomach, taking my time but moving ever so slowly downward. When I took him in my mouth, he shuddered and tangled his hand in my hair, gently encouraging me to continue. I swirled my tongue around the tip of his cock, then down the length of his shaft, tasting myself on him as I licked and teased, never lingering in one place for very long. It wasn’t long before his breathing became harsh again and that gentle pressure on my head became more and more insistent, encouraging me without words to take him fully.
I did, and he moaned again, his body thrusting instinctively upward, his cock filling my mouth completely. I sucked him, teased him, played with him, until his shaft was throbbing with the need for release and the salty taste of come was thick and strong and threatening to explode.
Once again, I retreated. He shuddered, then laughed, his voice hoarse as he said, “No retreat, no surrender, and certainly no begging. That’s the motto I’ve lived by and I see no reason to change that now.”
“We’ll see,” I murmured, as I moved back up his body to repeat the whole process again.
By the third time around I think we were both close to breaking point. I was drenched in sweat and aching so fiercely I was half convinced Tao wasn’t the only one who had a fire elemental burning inside of him. God, if one of us didn’t give in soon, we’d both expire.
As the taste of him grew ever saltier, I once again withdrew, but this time he growled “enough”—the sound almost animal in its intensity—and flipped our positions, kneeling between my legs as he dragged me forward and up. Holding me steady, he drove into me, and it was no gentle mating. It was all animal, all desperate need. He pumped furiously, his cock driving so deep it felt as if he was trying to spear himself right through every inch of me. And I was right there with him in that desperation, meeting him thrust for thrust, needing, aching, for release.
It came in an explosion that was unlike anything else we’d shared so far, so deep and intense I actually blacked out for several seconds. When I regained my senses, he was lying along my length, taking most of his weight on his arms and his body still in mine. The Aedh, despite the intensity that had just consumed us, was not finished yet.
But I think I was.
I raised my head a little and kissed his lips. “You begged.”
He smiled and wiped the sweaty strands of hair out of my eyes. “I growled ‘enough.’ That’s different.”
“Only by a matter of degree. I win. You lose.”
He grinned. “Actually, I rather think I won even if I did technically lose.”
I chuckled softly, and let my gaze run over the planes of his face, half wondering how nature could be so cruel as to give such perfection so little real emotions. I could have happily settled down with Lucian if he’d been anything other than an Aedh, with no want or need for anything beyond fulfilling the desires of his body. “So what are you doing here at this hour of the morning? And how did you even get in?”>The night went by fast, and once the next shift had rolled in and the changeover was completed, I counted the takings, then ran upstairs to have a shower, washing the grime of the shift and the lingering smell of ghostly deaths—a smell that was in my mind rather than on my skin—away.
It was nearly four by the time I got home and I barely had the energy to even strip. I was fast asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
The play of fingertips across my bare back stirred me hours later. I murmured sleepily, not ready to wake yet. The gentle caress paused, as if waiting for sleep to claim me again. Dream, I thought wistfully. Only the dream smelled of lemongrass, suede, and musky, powerful male. I smiled. Lucian.
The play of fingertips began again, sweeping slowly down my spine, the movements teasing, erotic. I became aware of his weight resting gently on my legs, of the heat of desire that swam all around me. The force of it burned my skin.
His big hands briefly cupped my butt and pressed my cheeks together. He kissed each one, the touch so light I barely felt it, yet it sent a tremor that was all anticipation shooting through my core. His touch moved on, down to my thighs, then slowly between them, until his fingers slid through waking slickness and found my clit.
A moan escaped and he chuckled softly. “It seems my plan to take you when you sleep isn’t quite going as I’d envisioned.”
He continued to stroke me, sending little shudders of pleasure skating through me, making it difficult to think, let alone talk. I licked my lips and croaked, “And what fun is there to be had in loving an unresponsive body?”
“Oh, none at all.” He pressed two of his fingers into me, sliding them in and out. I shuddered and raised my butt a little, allowing him greater access. He chuckled again, but his movements remained deliberate and painstakingly slow. “The fun comes with wakefulness, in feeling your surprise when—a heartbeat before your orgasm hits you—you realize that I’ve been fucking you senseless.”
His words had my pulse racing. God, I wanted that. All of that. Now. “I’m a wolf,” I said, my voice becoming more than a little breathless as those shudders of pleasure got ever stronger. “I’m always going to wake way before either of those moments.”
“As I’ve sadly discovered. It does not, however, alter my plan.”
And of that, I was glad. “Trouble is, all I’m feeling is finger fucking. When does the real action start?”