The Warlord (Rise of the Warlords 1) - Page 73

She was the picture of carnality, her image forever burned into his memory and the measure with which he judged every other.

For a reward such as this, he would willingly go to his knees every day for the rest of etern—The next twenty-seven days. Only twenty-seven days before the ceremony and life returned to normal. The blessing. Their predetermined outcome. He wouldn’t...pine for his phantom gravita. Not for a phantom, period.

Taliyah pressed her claws deeper and applied pressure, forcing his face to angle upward. Those ocean-water blues glittered down at him.

I might pine for a phantom gravita.

“Am I interrupting reflection hour?” she asked with a dry tone. “Should I leave you alone with your thoughts?”

Leave him with this throbbing erection? No! Gaze tangled up with hers, he dragged his tongue up her sex once again and plunged two fingers into her opening.

As a cry of surrender left her, thoughts fled. Pleasure awaited.

Roc set in, a man dominated by need, swiftly losing himself in the act.

“It’s good, baby. It’s so good,” she gasped out. “I’m so close. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Never. He scissored his fingers, stretching her, and Taliyah screamed, a climax ripping through her. Those slick inner walls clenched and unclenched, tension dissipating from her body. Satisfaction pulsed from her.

He wanted more...more. Refusing to relinquish his prize, he continued tonguing her even as he wrapped a hand around his length and stroked up. Passion boiled in his blood, her pleasure his fuel. His cells buzzed with life. Pressure built. Pressure so sharp it shredded any remaining threads of his control. His testicles drew up, his seed at the ready.

Taliyah shocked him. She gripped his hair and drew him to his feet. He let her, offering no resistance. What did she plan to do?

When she gripped the base of his shaft, he couldn’t stop the escape of his next word. “Please.”

Heartbeat...heartbeat... A moment suspended by anticipation...

Would she do it?

Their gazes met in a haze of sultry awareness and...she stroked him. A hoarse shout burst from him. He coiled his arms around her, gathering her hair, fisting the strands. “Nice and tight, Taya.”

She stroked again and again, her grip unyielding, and nothing else mattered. This pleasure. This woman. The feminine power she exerted so easily as she pumped his length... She enjoyed driving him to the brink.

Had he ever experienced such pleasure from another’s touch? Curses bubbled up. Thoughts burned away. Muscles bunched. This...this... He was going to—

She stopped, and Roc grunted.

He planted his palms against the stall walls behind her, caging her in. Voice rougher than sandpaper, he snarled, “Woman?”

The hottest, coldest seductress looked at him through a thick shield of lashes. Her pupils were the size of dimes, her irises glazed. Enveloped by steam, appearing both satisfied and hungry, she was his wildest fantasy come to stunning life.

“I just want you to know...” She grazed her thumb over his slit, collecting a bead of moisture. Moisture she sucked into her mouth, her eyelids hooding. “I like your taste, too.”

His chest heaved, things inside him cracking. “Finish me,” he commanded. A prophetic statement? Did this woman mark his end?

When she pumped him harder, faster, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He fed a finger into her mouth, undone as she sucked. His mind wiped clean. Anything he’d hoped to say got lost as he panted. The rightness of this. Of having Taliyah attend to him, after being attended to by him. He was...he was... Yes, yes!

“Just like that, Taya. That’s the way.”

Pumping up and down. Sucking. Pumping and sucking. Biting. Roc existed in a world of pure sensation, his blood like fire, his every nerve ending humming a siren’s song. He hovered between utter bliss and torturous hell. The two remained at war, locked in a final battle to the death.

He rocked his hips in time to her strokes, pressure continuing to build. Too much... He pulled his fingers from her mouth and slapped his palm against the wall. Rocked. A wonderful madness took hold. If Erebus himself had dared to ghost into the stall, Roc wasn’t sure he’d galvanize the will to fight. Nothing mattered but release.

Leaning into Taliyah, pressing her back against the wall, he plunged two fingers into her core and bit the tendon running between her neck and shoulder. She hurled into another climax and...

Bliss won.

Every muscle tensed as Roc roared, coming and coming and coming against her belly.

“Mmm.” Her panting breaths fanned his throat. “Have I ever told you how good you smell?”

He rested his forehead against the cool wall...until Taliyah reached up and cupped his cheeks. The temptress glided her cherry-red lips up his neck before lifting her head and...giggling? She offered him a drugged—drugging—smile, the shadows fading from her eyes.

“Don’t be mad, okay, but I must have... Didn’t mean to... So sorry... I...I think I’m drunk. Roc? I didn’t suck your soul, did I? I didn’t think I did, despite my hunger, but I must have. Do you ’member?”

Tags: Gena Showalter Rise of the Warlords Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024