Vote Then Read: Volume I

Home > Other > Vote Then Read: Volume I > Page 146
Vote Then Read: Volume I Page 146

by Carly Phillips


  She shuddered, desperate to explore him but fearing he would stop if she did. Stas couldn’t bear if this ended now. She’d surely explode. Ruined. Destroyed. Expired.

  Her limbs shook from the onslaught, electricity humming like a live wire through her very being. One stroke and she’d combust.

  She wanted him inside her. Now. If only—

  “I admire your persuasive talent, love,” he whispered, his lips against her jaw. “Even when used on me.” He knotted his fingers in her hair, his mouth brushing hers. “Never apologize for what you can do.” His fierce words only added to the sensations building inside of her.

  “Okay,” she managed, her throat dry, her legs quivering around his waist.

  “Touch me,” he mouthed, his cock hot and heavy against her lower abdomen.

  Finally.

  She grabbed his shoulders, sliding her hands down his back to his ass and back up again. Silk. Muscle. Man. Her own personal heaven.

  His palms went to her thighs, his arousal prodding her entrance.

  She arched into him in invitation. “Yes…”

  Her nails bit into his back as he pushed forward, his gaze holding hers.

  The intimacy of it nearly undid her, his intensity almost unbearable. There were so many unspoken emotions lurking in his blue eyes, emotions she knew were rivaled in her own.

  But she couldn’t look away.

  Not even as he slid deeper, all the way to the hilt, filling her almost to the point of pain.

  He took her mouth in a thorough kiss, his body still against hers, giving her a moment to adjust. Her minimal experience hadn’t prepared her for him—for this.

  “Aya,” he whispered, the nickname tasting sweet on her tongue. “What are you doing to me?” he asked, wonder in his voice.

  She parted her lips, only to find them occupied again, his mouth memorizing and training hers for his use alone. Every kiss, every caress translated to a claim, her body slowly submitting to him.

  I’ll never want another.

  Only Issac.

  She’d never experienced such passion with another, never knew it existed. But as his hips began to shift, she learned a whole new dance of life. One underlined in adoration and overwhelming sensation.

  God, he can move.

  She threaded her fingers through his hair, holding on as he took her without remorse, fucking her the way only Issac could. There would be bruises tomorrow. She didn’t care. Not when it felt so incredibly raw and true and amazing.

  “Fuck,” he groaned, his lips falling to her neck, his teeth scraping her pulse without breaking the surface.

  Her thighs clenched around him, the heat inside climbing to insurmountable heights.

  So hot.

  Burning.

  Need.

  His hand drifted between them, his thumb finding her clit and pressing down. “I want to feel you fall apart.” His voice was rough and growly and so fucking arousing. “Come for me, love.” He intensified his thrusts while circling her bundle of nerves, the heady combination too much for her senses.

  I’m falling.

  Too much.

  Oh, fuck.

  “Issac.” Her nails bit into his back, needing to hold on as a tumultuous wave of energy shook her very being. It heightened, grew, all centered in her lower abdomen and spreading. It hurt, tightening all her muscles.

  “Now, Aya.” The command in his tone shattered her, spiraling her into a tornado of heated oblivion that blinded her vision.

  She couldn’t move.

  Couldn’t breathe.

  Couldn’t think.

  Only feel. Her heart hammering in her chest. Her lungs burning. Her lips parted on a soundless scream.

  She squeezed her legs, capturing him, her mouth against his shoulder, her arms around his back. He drove himself into her, his penetrating movements only prolonging her ecstasy as he slammed her hips against the wall. Each stroke set off a new quake, her limbs shaking and burning around him.

  He groaned her name, his muscles stiffening beneath her touch, his orgasm exploding inside her. The heat of it sent another shock wave crashing through her, shaking her to her very core.

  Stas panted, her exertion overwhelming and exhausting, and yet so very exhilarating.

  Issac kissed her, his mouth worshiping and adoring, her name murmured between nips and licks. He remained hard inside her, the water still rippling around them from his exertion.

  We just fucked in the pool, she realized dizzily. And water resistance hadn’t impacted him in the slightest. What can he do on a bed?

  “I need more,” he whispered, as if reading her mind. “Much, much more.”

  She undulated her hips, silently urging him to proceed. She’d be sore tomorrow. But who the hell cared? She’d enjoy every minute of the sensual ache, thinking of Issac the entire time.

  He grinned against her mouth. “In the bedroom, love. I want to taste every inch of you.”

  22

  A Lesson in Exclusivity

  Issac couldn’t stop touching Astasiya.

  She slept soundly beside him, exhausted from their night in bed. The woman was fucking flawless, meeting him move for move and kiss for kiss.

  He’d entertained numerous women over the centuries, but none of them aroused him like the woman sleeping in his arms. Even now, his cock desired more, pressing against her ass, urging him to wake her with an orgasm.

  But they had company, something he suspected she wouldn’t be pleased about when she woke up.

  Issac kissed her neck, her bare shoulder, and along her arm as he slid his palm down her stomach to the apex between her thighs. She squirmed, her heartbeat escalating in his ears.

  “We missed breakfast,” he murmured, guiding her onto her back, his lips against her hip. “A shame, really, as I’m starved. Someone kept me up all night.”

  Perhaps he could coax her into a good mood so his news of who had dropped by for a visit wouldn’t be so upsetting. He nipped her skin, tracing a path along her lower abdomen with his tongue.

  Bedroom eyes gazed down at him, her pupils dilated from sleep and flickering with wonder. “Oh God…”

  “Mmm, no. Issac,” he corrected, smiling against her skin.

  “Fuck.” She clutched the silk bedsheets on either side of her waist, her gorgeous breasts on display from the sunlight streaming in through the translucent curtains.

  He licked the sensitive space between her legs, teasing her, adoring her, memorizing her. “Good morning,” he murmured, his lips grazing her mound. “Or should I say ‘afternoon’?”

  “I’m… You’re…” She shuddered, her thighs tensing as he settled between them.

  “I’m what?” he asked against her damp flesh, her arousal taunting him in the most sensual of ways. “Hungry? Yes.”

  “That’s—” She bowed off the bed, whatever she’d been about to say wrapped up in a moan as he tasted her. He’d wanted to do this last night, had meant to lick every inch of her, but the sight of her in his bed had derailed his focus. Being inside her had become his obsession, his primary goal of the evening.

  Now, he wanted to worship her the way she deserved.

  His guests could wait.

  One night hadn’t been enough. Hell, a month wouldn’t suffice at this point. This woman was under his skin, his new addiction in life.

  He devoured her, loving the way she writhed and moaned. Her hands moved to his hair, holding him to her, encouraging him to explore more, to take her over the edge. Rather than oblige, he shifted out of her reach, eliciting a guttural growl in response.

  “Tease,” she accused, her breath harsh.

  He grinned against her inner thigh before moving upward to her breasts. They were flushed and aroused, just the way he liked them. He took a tender bud deep into his mouth and rolled it with his tongue.

  “I want you to shatter so hard that you think of me all day, Aya.” He bit the sensitive peak, evoking a whimper of need from her. Oh, he loved that sound. He
inspired another by nibbling her breast, her pleasure addictive.

  “Tell me what you need,” he whispered sliding down again, his tongue dipping into her belly button. “My hands? My cock? My tongue?” The last word was spoken right against her swollen clit.

  “Yes,” she hissed. “Yes.”

  He slipped a finger through her wetness, teasing her. “Yes?” he repeated. “Yes what?”

  “Just touch me, Issac,” she begged, her words healing a wound deep inside him. Being told he couldn’t have what he desired had physically hurt. Her plea now counteracted the command from last night, lifting a bruise from his heart he hadn’t realized was there. He needed to caress her, to adore her, to please her.

  His lips closed over her sensitive bud, and she cried out his name.

  Yes.

  He swirled his tongue over it before sucking her hard into his mouth, causing her to buck against him.

  So beautiful.

  So gorgeous.

  So mine.

  He’d never felt this possessive over anyone, but Aya awoke the predator inside him, the one who desired her more than any other. And she was his. Writhing. Wet. Willing. In his bed. Where she belonged.

  Issac’s palms skimmed her legs, her abdomen, and breasts, urging her to come, needing to feel her pleasure beneath his touch and tongue. He sensed her teetering, her muscles clenching around him, her body frozen on the precipice.

  And falling.

  His name a scream in the air.

  Her fingers gripping his hair, her body trembling, coming undone in the most gorgeous sight he’d ever witnessed. Fucking beautiful. Glorious. And he wanted to see it again. He wrung every drop from her, waiting until her quakes shifted to quivers, and climbed up to cage her between his arms.

  “I absolutely adore hearing you say my name like that.” He kissed her thoroughly, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue. “And I’m going to enjoy hearing you say it again just like that later.” He would do so now, but she wasn’t ready for him again yet. Just pressing his cock against her center had her wincing. “Mmm, we need to get ready. Shower with me?”

  Her brow furrowed. “But… don’t you… I mean, shouldn’t we, uh, finish?” She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushed with color.

  “You’re quite charming when flustered.” He brushed his lips over hers before rolling off of her and standing, hand palm up, waiting for her. “That was for you, love. The shower is for me.”

  “Oh…” She pushed up onto her elbows, her eyes roaming over him with interest.

  He chuckled and scooped her up off the bed, tired of waiting, and headed toward the bathroom. “We have people waiting for us.”

  “What? Who?”

  “I mean, I realize I fucked the sense right out of you, but did you miss Lucian and all the others at dinner last night?” He set her on the counter, his hands gripping the marble on either side of her thighs.

  She narrowed her gaze. “That’s a bit cocky, isn’t it?”

  “Confident,” he corrected, smirking. “And also, true.” He went to the walk-in shower to turn on the water and found the items they needed under the sink. “Can you stand yet, darling?”

  “So arrogant,” she muttered, sliding to her feet. “We’ll see if I return the favor now.”

  “Who said that’s what I have in mind?” He pulled two oversized towels from the cabinet to set aside on the heat rack before stepping onto the stone floor of the shower. “Join me, Aya. If you dare.” She brought out a playful side to him that he barely recognized after centuries of disuse.

  Astasiya made him feel young.

  Alive.

  Buoyant.

  Her arms slipped around his waist as she entered the shower, her breasts against his back. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  His lips curled. “That sounds like a challenge.”

  “Take it however you want.”

  He angled the showerheads over both of them and turned in her arms. She tilted her head back beneath the spray, her eyes closed, her expression angelic. He slid his mouth over hers, needing to kiss her, his dick throbbing against her lower belly. Fuck, he wanted her again. And again. Alas, he meant what he said. This wasn’t about reciprocation but about a different type of seduction.

  Threading his fingers through her hair, he combed through the long, damp strands while gently teasing her lips with his tongue. She sighed against him, her hands exploring his back.

  “Mmm, I could kiss you forever, it seems,” he whispered, picking up the shampoo. “But we need to talk about today.” He lathered a healthy amount into his hands and ran his palms over her head, taking care of her in a way he rather enjoyed.

  “What about today?” she asked, gazing up at him through thick lashes.

  “Well, first, a few others have arrived.” He rinsed the suds from her hair and repeated the actions for himself before picking up the soap.

  “Who?” she asked as he guided the bar over her arm, painting suds over her skin.

  “Aidan and his harem, as well as Tristan and Mateo.”

  “Harem?” she repeated.

  “Anya, Nadia, and Clara.” Technically, the latter wasn’t involved with Aidan sexually, but Issac didn’t want to go into that topic now.

  “He has a harem?”

  “He created them all, yes.” Issac slipped the soap between her breasts, taking tender care of her core and loving the way her nipples beaded in response to his teasing touch.

  “So they’re like your siblings?”

  He nearly laughed. “Hardly. He may have turned them, but our relations are somewhat estranged. I grew up with Amelia and knew Lucian at a young age, while Aidan’s newest additions came from different occurrences throughout the last few decades. We’re all friends, of course, but I don’t consider them family.” Especially Clara. That would be wrong on a variety of levels.

  Issac soaped the tops of her thighs and knelt to reach the rest of her legs before telling her to spin so he could approach her from behind.

  “How is an Ichorian created?” she asked, curiosity evident in her tone.

  “It’s a blood exchange process that ends in death and subsequent resurrection,” he said, his focus catching the mark at the base of her spine as he massaged her ass with both hands.

  “So not through procreation,” she continued, causing his gaze to snap up.

  “What?”

  “Well, you said an Ichorian mating with a human creates a fledgling. Fledglings become Hydraians after their rebirth—which I interpret to mean they wake up immortal after dying?”

  “Yes,” he confirmed, his attention shifting back to the mark on her skin. He traced it with his finger. Small, heart-shaped, almost like a tattoo, but not quite.

  “What happens when an Ichorian has sex with another Ichorian?”

  “Aside from sharing pleasure?” Assuming both parties are into that kind of thing. “Nothing. Ichorian females are infertile, and my kind are immune to disease.”

  “What about a Hydraian and a mortal?”

  “Hydraians are also infertile.” He stood and finished soaping off her back, the blemish imprinted in his mind. “And before you ask, so are fledglings.” He rotated her to face him. “Which is why we didn’t use protection.” With humans, he always wore a condom. Astasiya didn’t require it, something he very much enjoyed and would be taking advantage of again soon.

  She bit her lip, nodding. “Probably should have discussed that pre-sex.”

  He smiled and helped her rinse the suds from her skin. “There wasn’t anything to discuss, love. I can’t impregnate you, nor would diseases impact us.”

  Another nod. “Well, that’s good, then.”

  He handed her the soap. “Your turn.”

  Delight radiated from her expression. “Yes, please.”

  She started with his abs, causing him to smile. He hadn’t given her much opportunity to touch him last night, his hands too busy controlling hers as he took her in various ways. All of which she
enjoyed, as did he. So much so that he’d completely missed the symbol on her lower back.

  Astasiya lathered his chest, his arms, and continued lower, her fingers wrapping around his base to give him a firm stroke.

  “Careful, darling, or I’ll accept that as an invitation.”

  “Just being thorough,” she replied, all innocence, aside from the sinful intent dancing in her gaze. She fisted him again, squeezing harder this time, her palm slick and confident against his shaft.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game, love.”

  “Me?” She batted her eyes at him. “Never.”

  Another stroke that had his balls tightening, his abdominal muscles clenching. Part of him wanted her to continue. The sadist in him preferred to wait, to delay his gratification until they had more time to prolong the experience.

  He caught her wrist, stilling her movements. “Keep pushing and you’ll end up on your knees with my cock down your throat.” Not an idle threat, which she must have seen in his features because she shivered.

  “I… I might enjoy that.” Soft words.

  He smiled. “If we didn’t have everyone waiting on us, I’d test that statement.” And enjoy every fucking minute of it.

  Her grip loosened. “Why are they waiting on us?”

  Hmm, time to kill the fire brewing between them. He’d reignite it later. “Because they want to talk about your future, and I believe Aidan has news on Owen.”

  She froze. “Owen?”

  Issac took over soaping his body. “Indeed. He sent me a series of visions when he arrived, Owen being one of them.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Visions?”

  “My gift, Aya.” At her continued frown, he added, “I’m constantly tapped into everyone’s vision, within a certain mile radius, of course. As my Sire, I’m very attuned to Aidan.”

  “Miles?” she asked, her lips parted in awe.

  “Roughly one or two, depending.” He swapped the soap for some conditioner, applying it to her hair first.

  “That must be overwhelming,” she said after a minute.

  He chuckled, recalling his early days. It’d been an absolute nightmare learning control, but residing in London for a few months had done the trick. “I liken it to having the tele on in the background without sound. Switching them all to the same channel is an easy skill. It’s making them see different things that can be more cumbersome.”

 

‹ Prev