Into His Dark

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Into His Dark Page 16

by Angel Payne


  His hypnosis, so perfect, braided with the very strands of my DNA. Cravings rose, as primal and spiritual as they were lustful. I was his wild creation, lifting my lips to lay claim on him in return. Evrest’s response, a groan that thundered through us both, made me pull on his hair to deepen the connection of our mouths…the mating of our spirits.

  He tore his lips away—while shoving my jeans to my ankles. After dropping to pull them all the way off, he untied my Docs and hurled them against the wall.

  But when I thought expected him to stand again…he settled down there.

  Ohhhh, God.

  His hands ran up and down my legs, claiming, savoring, commanding. I clung to his huge shoulders for balance, breathy sighs escaping as he rained rough shivers over my skin. When I thought he was finished with the onslaught, he simply changed tactics, one of my legs high enough to kiss his way down the bridge of my foot. At the same time, he pressed his knuckles into my arch.

  I gasped.

  It tickled yet tantalized, blowing a shit-ton of clear thoughts into the stratosphere. Correction. For a production manager who’d spent a lot of hours on her feet lately, he shot me straight to heaven.

  “Oh.” I half-gasped it. “Oh, ssshhhhit. Yessss…”

  No more words for now. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be the first time tonight. Not that words mattered with him, ever.

  He finished taking my other foot to paradise—then went to work on the fabric triangle between my thighs.

  “Ahhh!”

  It spilled as he pressed a fervent kiss directly on that sensitive crux. “Mmmm,” he murmured, trailing his mouth along the silk. “Blue this time.” He kissed toward my inner thigh, turning me into a tremoring mess by the time he nipped down to my knee and back again. “Stunning, though it hardly matches your eyes.”

  I dug my nails into both his biceps, almost grateful for the chance at a laugh. Helped with the pressure…a little. “Are you comparing my eyes to my underwear?”

  He growled, smug and sensual. Slipped his hold around to palm my backside. “Sevette, I would recite every sonnet ever penned by Shakespeare if it kept your pussy quivering beneath my lips like this.”

  Stunning bastard.

  “Quivering? If you mean about to slide out of my skin from wanting you, then—”

  “Ssshhh.”

  “Evrest.”

  He pinched my buttocks. Hard. “Ssshhh.” I was barely over the tweaks before he lowered his mouth over my center again—to bite me through the silk of my underwear.

  “Ahhhh!”

  He bit me—bit me!—again.

  I held in the scream this time. I learned fast. Screaming meant he’d bite again. Not that it had been awful. I just didn’t know how much more my senses could take.

  I focused on twisting my hands into his hair, attempting to regain some balance. Turned out to be wise. Damn good chance I would’ve fallen over as he exchanged the biting for full-on licking. Yes, right through my panties.

  Wow. Wow.

  His moan warmed my mound as my body relinquished its honey to him. As he sucked in more of my essence, he moaned and licked harder. Dear God, harder…

  “Fuck.” He rasped it between harsh breaths. “By the Creator, Camellia. You are sweeter than all the fruit on every tree in my land.”

  I forced open my eyes. Had to watch him, if just for a seconds. His own stare, a lagoon of pure sex, already awaited. His lips were the picture of pure sin, fitted over my most private space like he lounged in that lagoon, feasting on the world’s most succulent treat.

  “Evrest,” I pleaded. “Please, I—”

  Denied. Just one second of his determined gaze did it. He wasn’t listening to a damn thing I said, unless it followed the lines of I’m going to come now.

  Not acceptable. His pleasure had to be part of mine. I’d learned it with scorching clarity when we’d stolen those passionate moments in his office. Now, it was non-negotiable. I told him so by buckling my knees, knocking him off-balance and tumbling us both to the floor. More like it. With him prone beside me, I was able to explore more of him, even suckle at his chest while dipping a hand beneath his waistband, slipped to a mouth-watering angle on his rock-hard hips.

  “Camellia.” His grip on my hair was as tight as the word in his throat. He ended it in a choke as I closed my fingers around his taut shaft, running my thumb through the telling liquid at its tip. “Fuck. That’s—”

  “Sssshhh.” I gave him a saucy taste of his own medicine, following it all the way through by dropping my head…then tasting what I’d just touched.

  His growl razed the air as his flesh consumed my mouth. He was perfect. Hot. Huge. Delicious. His cock swelled against my lips, turning me into a newly christened sex goddess. Powerful. Beautiful. And longing to give him more.

  “Fuck. Sevette—please—I need you to—”

  “Give you more?” I angled a sultry gaze up at him, caressing his cock with my cheek. “Because this is what I need, Evrest. To know I affect you the way you do me. To feel you trembling, too.”

  He did just that as I turned and sucked him again. The victory was heady, feeling his erection grow and his sac pulse, the essence of his masculinity at the mercy of my eager tongue and lips. As I worked his pants down, his thighs shook beneath my hands. He helped me at the end, toeing them off before using the extra leverage from his feet to work his length deeper past my lips.

  “Camellia. Ohhhh…”

  He gritted out more, long phrases in Arcadian, nasty and needy. I took in more of him, giddy with victory. Wasn’t much time to celebrate it. His fingers sank to my scalp, setting a faster pace for my service. I loved every moment, feeling his pleasure against my tongue. His big body tensed and hardened, my giant wolf in sensual surrender. He was stripped bare, trusting me deeply. New tears stung the backs of my eyes with the force of my gratitude.

  His grunts deepened. His thrusts lengthened. I gave back soft sighs, the ready vessel for all his heat, his hardness, his lust.

  Until he ripped the air with a harsh command.

  “Enough.”

  He yanked my head up. I couldn’t help staring, enraptured with the masterpiece I’d created. Didn’t hurt that I’d been given a work of art to start with. His penis was as mighty, proud, and unwavering as everything else about him. It rose from his body, nearly a right angle. I licked my lips, wondering if he’d let me sneak one last taste…

  No damn chance.

  In one powerful move, he reversed our positions again. The world cartwheeled as he flipped me over, rolled me beneath him—then ripped my breath out, plunging his mouth against mine.

  We moaned together. Writhed together.

  With equal mastery, he shoved a hand between our bodies, forcing my shirt off. I reveled in the sound curling up through him, ravenous and rough. It vibrated into the dip between my breasts before he murmured, “Mmmm. Blue.”

  I sighed into his hair. Inhaled back in, savoring the ocean spice in the thick strands, as he nudged his tongue under my bra. I instantly stiffened for him, my nipple begging his tongue for more.

  I peeked beneath my half-closed lashes as he stroked long fingers down the rest of my body. As candlelight danced along his sleek muscles, I wondered again if the man didn’t have ancestors from the summit of Mount Olympus. Not that I was capable of much more thought, once his fingers slipped back beneath my panties…

  And slicked through me.

  And parted the depths of me.

  And delved inside.

  Deep.

  “Evrest!”

  He pushed in a second finger. “Yes, my sevette?”

  “Dammit. Please. Now!” When he didn’t falter his rhythm by a beat, I scratched down his shoulders and pushed up my hips. “Please. I need—all of you—”

  He lifted his head. His stare, so brilliant, didn’t waver. “You already have all of me.”

  My eyes slid shut as his declaration sank in. Dammit. Not the double meanings, Evrest. Not now. Pleas
e. Not making it sound like he was a knight riding out with my favor strapped to his lance, ready to die as I sobbed his name in the gallery.

  It wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight. These hours weren’t for sobbing. Or regrets. Or looking back, even by an inch. We had to squeeze the magic from now…until we were both too exhausted to care anymore.

  Our reality is still only this…

  “You know what I mean.” I gave it to him in a whisper while sliding my thigh up, rubbing his stiff length. His coiled muscles and deep growl bolstered me further. “I need all of your body, Evrest. Wrapped in mine. Hot and full. Pumping into me…”

  Yikes. And damn.

  I almost didn’t believe the words were mine. While my fantasies were spun from words like that, I’d never tapped into the courage to vocalize them. Speaking them was like a magic wand, wielding an invitation to Oz. Watching what my desire did to Evrest—his huge pupils, his parted lips, his strained muscles—was like stepping from black and white into Technicolor.

  More gasps. Deeper sighs. Mine and his.

  My senses flew, part of a journey both familiar and strange, reaching higher, higher, toward my ultimate peak of empowerment. As he dipped his head, taking my mouth with his hardest passion of the night, I ascended to more beautiful. The world fell away, tiny and distant. Heaven swirled around me, dazzling…amazing.

  Too amazing.

  “Too much,” I rasped. “You’re going to…I’m going to…stop…stop.”

  He didn’t relent. His fingers kept pumping, claiming my channel with long, thorough thrusts. With every plunge, my pressure mounted, starting deep, spiraling outward. I gasped, fighting the incursion, unwilling to let myself fly solo at his mercy. He had to soar, too. After tonight, he’d truly be my forbidden—but I wouldn’t accept that without giving him release along with me.

  “You need me to pump, little lightning? Harder? Faster? Talk to me, Camellia. My fingers are your servants.”

  Somebody still wasn’t getting the whole memo. “Dammit, Evrest. What I need is your cock. Please!”

  If that didn’t bash down the door of his comprehension, I’d have to go get a real-life ax and breaching explosives. Thankfully, it worked—at least at first. Though his gaze now held understanding, the rest of his face was tight with something different. A question? A hesitation?

  “What is it?” I charged. “Do I stink? I showered today—”

  “Sevette.” He nudged his nose against mine. “You smell so enticing, I could lick every inch of you.”

  “Okay.” Perplexed scowl. “And I’m pretty certain your…willingness…is all here.”

  He laughed as I referenced his arousal. “Present,” he murmured, “and—how do you like to say it?—straining at the reins?”

  With my stare still bolted to his, I dared an exploring hand downward. The thick tip of his shaft throbbed against my fingers. “Then let go of the reins, my tüsüterre.”

  His eyes widened. My memorization of the Arcadian word for thunder had clearly surprised him—but not enough to help my cause all the way. His fingers slipped from my body as his forehead dropped against mine.

  “Camellia. Camellia. Every cell of my blood, every muscle in my body, and every beat of my being is screaming at my cock to slide into you right now…to be lost in you for hours.”

  “But…?”

  “But…” He reset his jaw and pulled in a harsh breath. “Sevette, I have taken…a royal preservation vow.”

  “A royal what?” Snarky frown. Couldn’t be helped. It sounded like he was telling me about how he’d promised to save some Arcadian nature park, which made no sense, other than the angle on the birds and bees. Was this his strange way of telling me we were in his secret sex den with no condoms?

  “It is an expected pledge for the Arcadian king to take,” he explained. “So two years ago, I did—promising I would not share my seed with anyone other than my bride.”

  “Oh.” It spilled before full comprehension took over. “Ohhhh. Whoa. You’re two years into a purity vow?”

  His brows crunched. “Define ‘pure’.”

  “Good point. And to be honest, thank God. But I’m still baffled.” I lifted a hand, motioning at the whole of the room. “Evrest, you clearly have an…affection…for sex.”

  His lips quirked. “Indeed.”

  “That was rhetorical. No need to elaborate.”

  He grazed my breast with a thumb. “But elaborating can be the best part.”

  Shaky sigh. Damn, what the man could do to me with a quirk of his lips and a brush of his fingers. “You know what I mean.”

  He aligned his stare with mine, unleashing the new intensity on his face. “I would have it that you always receive the truth from me, Camellia. So yes, I have enjoyed my ‘affection’, as you call it, with others. But—”

  “But you’ve taken an oath not to ‘consummate’ with anyone,” I cut in.

  “Not to share my seed,” he clarified.

  “Which means…?”

  The sexy bastard countered my scowl with an indulgent smirk. “Sex and consummation…they are very different things. Carnal pleasure can lead to many things, not just intercourse.” As he glided his hand back down the center of my torso, taking the languorous way toward the curls at my center, he rumbled, “Wonderful things. Wild things. A world that can bring beautiful pleasure…to everyone.”

  I held my breath as his fingers trailed lower. When they dipped in, rediscovering the center of my pleasure as if laser-guided there, I let it out on a violent gasp. “Ohhh…” His chest absorbed the sound. I inhaled him with frantic greed, needing his scent, his power, his potency. “You make me believe every word of that.”

  “As I long for you to. As I need for you to.”

  His fingers backed up every word of his promise. They slid deep and explored thoroughly, stopping only when they found my other button, deep inside my sex. Circles of heat, focused and firm, incessant despite how I bucked and arched…

  Needing him but fighting him…

  Until ecstasy gave me no other choice.

  Moans, then screams. Clenches, then spasms.

  Before every nerve ending in my body sizzled. And every thought in my head imploded.

  “Ohhh!” I still pushed my hips up, yearning for more of the inexorable torment. Un-freaking-believable. I wanted more. “Evrest…that’s so…you’re so…” How did I pick just one word? Maybe I didn’t. “Magical,” I began. “Incredible. Selfless. Generous. Ohhh!” When he quickened his pace, spiraling his hand to give me even more pleasure, I arched against him once more. He’d turned me into a damn rock video hussy.

  His cocky growl warmed my forehead. “You were saying?”

  Slow growl. “You’re unfair.”

  He nuzzled his way to my ear. Oh shit, it felt good. I hoped the man had an insurance policy on his lips. “Probably.”

  “And you get away with it because you’re so damn beautiful.”

  “I get away with it because I am so damn good.” He laughed at my snarl, though added in a voice sultry as honey, “And because I enjoy it. And oh, sevette…I enjoy you so much.”

  I pulled back enough to impale him with a glare. “But you don’t enjoy all of it.”

  “I enjoy more than enough, Camellia.” It was a directive more than a statement, backed by a rebar-strength stare. “My needs will be met. Do not waste another concern about that.”

  “Your ‘needs will be met’?” Open chuff. Hold up, He-Man, I can’t hear past your fists on your chest. “And don’t ‘waste’ my ‘concern’ about it? What the hell does any of that mean?”

  He shook his head with that sharp confusion again. The look tightened into anger as I scooted back from him—and dammit, the addicting heat of his touch—to turn and gaze at the walls occupied by the shelves of sex toys. It was an impressive collection, like a trip to Godiva for a chocoholic, and must have been like heaven-in-the-basement for the Arcadian women lucky enough to be invited for some of Evrest’s tim
e in here.

  Briefly, I wondered if any of the Distinct were part of that club. It would explain why some of them resorted to the tween-tastic maneuvers to stay on his radar. There were vibrators, pulsators, and ticklers. Dildos, bead strings, and specially-shaped insertables. Sensation devices from mild massager/sensation sticks to more adventurous nipple suckers, and even big jars full of packets containing lotions and creams, all for the purpose of “Her Pleasure.”

  Her pleasure.

  Never his.

  Damn.

  With new understanding, I turned back to Evrest. Stared at him, his body so hard and his eyes so tender, and let the force of my astonishment wash over my face. The change in my expression wasn’t lost on him.

  “Perhaps…we should talk.” His words fell onto the air, leaden and ridiculous—aka, the perfect expression for the moment. But by hearing him verbalize exactly what I dreaded, I gained a hard, nervy whomp in the ass.

  The same ass I turned upward, while repositioning myself on all fours—before starting to slink back toward him.

  Impish grin. Feline suggestion. Open invitation, sluiced with my desire, as his gaze dropped to my swaying breasts. “You know, Mr. Cimarron, we have a little expression in the states about ‘talking’.”

  “Oh?”

  The query melted the air from the heat he gave it, matching the fires sparking in his gaze. He leaned back on his heels now, giving me a perfect view of what my approach did to him. I was so tempted to dip my mouth again, taking all of his stiff heat inside my thirsty mouth…

  “What kind of an expression?” His growl was full of torrid intent.

  When I was just inches away from climbing onto his lap, I broadened my smile—before turning around once more. Before he could protest, I reached back his arms and slammed him tight against me. Still not enough. I slid both his hands down, plunging them beneath my panties.

  His breath shuddered.

  My smile grew.

 

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