Into Her Fantasies -- A Contemporary Romance: The Cimarrons: Royals of Arcadia Island (The Cimarron Series Book 3)

by Angel Payne

  “We—we still can’t do this. Oh, God.” That, choked out as he shifted his hold up by a few inches…enough to brace around just the bottom of my throat. Just when I thought he wouldn’t uncover any more of my most illicit dreams…

  “We…can’t…”

  I tried. So hard. Struggled for just one breath free of his scent, his energy, his power…

  Not to be.

  As thunder dominated the sky and the sea, his desire boomed through the very fiber of my muscles, the cells in my blood, the essence of my senses.

  “I have thought of nothing but this.” His lips serrated my ear. His body throbbed bigger and harder and tighter against me. His chest heaved at my shoulders. His abs tautened against my torso. His cock swelled into the crack of my ass.

  “Damn.” I gasped it when he reached down, locked both hands around my wrists, then slammed them to the wall. As he leaned over me, our bodies fitted together. Our breaths billowed on the air, desperate huffs of mounting desire.

  Another long moan curled out of me. Resisting him. Wanting him. Craving him…so damn badly. “Oh, dammit, dammit, dammit!”

  The luxury of his hair cascaded over the back of my neck as he pressed in, openly biting the curve of my ear. “Tell me,” he growled, “you have not thought of it too—at least a thousand times a day. A million times a day.” He rolled his hips with that power so unique to him, making me groan again, before he offered, “Tell me, tupulai, that you have not thought of me, of this, and I shall set you free this moment.”

  But I didn’t want to be set free. He knew it, and so did I.

  I let one desperate sob spill out…just before my confession did. “I’ve thought of you every fucking second.”

  His sigh flooded my neck. “Lucina.”

  Fireworks and music filled the night. The space around us turned into an otherworldly kaleidoscope.

  Baby, we’re not gonna stop…

  “Shiraz.” It was still a protest, though I already accepted its utter futility. We were already a launched rocket, destined to burst no matter where the ashes fell. It was going to happen—he’d be inside me, and I’d welcome every inch of him—and yet I had to vocalize the protest however I still could, hoping it wove even threads of strength to the shields of my heart.

  Who the hell was I kidding?

  When it came to this man, my heart had no more borders left. It would give itself to him the same way my body did. Thoroughly. Openly. Knowing in the end, we’d both be nothing but detonated, wasted shells. Weak cinders in the sky.

  Knowing it would be worth it.

  If not…praying it would just kill us.

  “Tell me again.” His rasp warmed my hair as he moved my hands together on the wall, locking them beneath one of his. “Tell me how often you have thought of me. Needed me.”

  I jerked my head up, attempting a challenging glare, but he forced me forward with his jaw at my temple, his free hand at my waist. His fingers clenched hard, his grip a command…turning me to putty. I was nothing against his physical power, and loved it. Surrounded by his dark, forceful scent, and craving it. Even my clothes were flimsy barriers compared to his, cotton and lace battling his brocade and boots—

  A point he proved the very next moment.

  In a pair of sharp jerks, he pushed my shorts all the way to my ankles. They slipped off fully as he kicked my legs apart.

  I turned to butter.

  In another motion, he shoved my shirt up over my head, stretching it across my shoulders to form a tight seal across my eyes. The cotton only reached the top of my nose, so I was free to gasp and moan for him as I pleased.

  I was liquid.

  My pussy took care of demonstrating that one. Wet…I’d never been so damn wet. I seeped with arousal, the drops tickling as they descended my channel. My musky scent bathed the air around us, as my filthy prince, my unerring master, taunted me further with the sensual rolls of his body. As he tormented me further, I writhed harder. Brazenly campaigned for more contact with his huge, incredible body…

  “Yes,” I finally rasped. “I’ve thought of exactly this. Every minute, every hour. This. You. Yesssss.”

  “Fuck.” It was a rumble from his chest, twisted from the lock of his teeth, pouring over me like a spell. “You have consumed me too, tupulai.” Wrapped his mastery tighter around me, as he took down his fly in an urgent grind. “Made me think of nothing but this. Nothing but having you like this.” He grunted softly, guiding his taut, hot tip closer to my pouting, soaked pussy.

  I wasn’t even liquid anymore. I was smoke. His smoke. Dipping and twisting, gossamer beneath his touch, blending with the air itself…everything but the tissues between my legs, which had become a furnace of ruthless, determined lust.

  Despite that demand, I had more words of confession for him. Things that needed to be said, while I still had the shred of a mind left to form them.

  “You know me.”

  And for the first time in my life, knew complete freedom.

  “You see me.”

  And for the first time in my life, knew complete self-forgiveness.

  “And yet, you still want me.”

  He slipped his free hand from my waist. Caressed it all the way up to my neck again—only this time, continued on until gripping into the back of my scalp. He scraped in deep, twisting until snapping my head back, exposing me for the ravishment of his deep but surprisingly soft kiss.

  “See you,” he echoed, thick and somber against my lips.

  “Want you,” he also repeated.

  Then, just when I thought he’d invade me with another kiss, gave me something more devastating.

  “Because I love you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ‡

  “I love you too. God help me…I do.”

  The tears were as impossible to fight as the words, unlocking even more shackles from my spirit, as he rewarded me for them by kissing me again. Deeper than before. Longer than before. And yes, oh yes, harder than before. As if restraints had been unlocked from him too.

  A lot of restraints.

  As our kiss lengthened, the change was even more evident. A new force moved through us then between us, shock waves emanating from the perfect bomb of our new bond…our brilliant freedom. As Shiraz groaned, every inch of his giant body shuddered. As I answered, letting high-pitches of need twirl up my throat, every pore of my skin popped open, shivering for him. Surrendering to him.

  Wild for him.

  “Shiraz!” I panted, my muscles nearly spasming, my desire fully burning…my sex clenching, aching, needing. “Please!” I pushed back, reveling in the slick friction between our fitted forms, but needing more. So much more.

  Craving what he’d do if every single leash could be yanked off.

  His hand, still coiled in my hair, jerked tight again. Against the column of my neck, he commanded, “Not the right way to ask, my sweet.”

  Hell.

  He did see me.

  Knew me.

  Loved me.

  Really, really loved me.

  “Please,” I repeated, a whisper my only capable sound now. “Please, Master…”

  “Yessss,” he hissed, moving with nips of lips and teeth down to my shoulder. The scrape of his stubble and the caress of his hair were nearly enough to bring my first orgasm. He had me that wound up. That hot inside. That wet and quivering for him.

  “I—I—Master!”

  “Yes, tupulai?”

  Okay, he loved me. But he also knew exactly how to turn me into a babbling lunatic, using that lush, teasing voice while sluicing his cock along my weeping cleft. Appropriate, since I hadn’t stopped crying—only now my sobs were a mix of adoration, vexation…frustration.

  “Please, Master.”

  “Please what, sweet one?”

  I tried to simply show him by bucking backward, angling my pussy for his invasion—but I was his complete prisoner, locked by the clamps of his hands and the firm brace of his legs.
r />   “I—I need you—to—to—”

  His sandpaper hum in my ear flowed along the energy of his body, turning him into a human power station. If the force of his electricity could be harnessed, the whole island would never have to worry about outages ever again.

  “To what?” he prompted, each word charged with the same sizzling command. “Tell me, Lucina.” He angled out, trailing the drops of his pre-cum into the crack of my ass. “Beg me.”

  And here I was, fantasizing about unlatching his final tethers—only to find that joke so turned on me. Again.

  And treasuring my gratitude for the trick. Again.

  The locks of my brain unclicked. Flew off into the kaleidoscope, incinerated by my lust…because I knew they were safe in his keeping. They fell away, making room for all the words he’d mandated. The confessions of every filthy craving he’d elicited in me, now pounding and throbbing and screaming from inside me…

  “Fuck me,” I moaned. “Dammit, Shiraz. I need you so deep inside me. Hard and deep and—” The grind of my own teeth was my interruption, rejoicing in the sound of ripping foil and unraveling latex. But as soon as he stretched the condom on, his hands were back on my body, fingers stabbing into my hips, bruising in their passion.

  “Do not stop,” he commanded from his own clenched teeth. “Beg me, little tupulai. Give me every fucking word.”

  I nodded, though it took me another moment to realize he wanted more than that. Had dictated it. He delivered a blatant reminder with a bold slap to my ass, making me jolt sharply—and mewl hard.

  As he surged the first inch of his perfect penis into me.

  “Yes,” I groaned. “Oh yes, Master. More, please. More of your cock. I need it all. I need it fucking me,”—a high, elated cry, as he filled me with the rest of that hard, pulsing stalk—“like that! Please…just like that…”

  His guttural groan blended with my elated gasps. For several thrusts, then several more, we were both wordless, weightless, mindless…lost to another dimension, the creation of space and time known only to our souls. It was fire and fury, surrender and salvation, an honesty of my body and mind I’d once written off as the stuff of pure fantasy—the kind of connection the universe would never gift to a strange, snarky, kinky creation like me. I’d been simply resigned to exist as a freak, never hoping to find any others like me. Sure as hell not expecting to find that soul mate inside a prince with the body of a Greek Olympian and the face of a Roman god.

  Yet again, the joke was sure as fuck on me.

  Yet again, I wept with pure joy about it.

  As the lover of my wildest dreams delivered an even harsher smack to my other ass cheek.

  “Spread your hands wider on the wall, my sweet. You shall need the leverage.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  I was even grateful for how he pushed my upper body down, letting my head drop between my shoulders. My grateful tears could splash freely to the floor—and I let them as he drew my senses even farther outside my body, yanking my hips back with brutal tugs.

  “Such a beautiful cunt.” He reangled his cock, driving it down into me. “Beg me to ride it hard, tupulai. Use all the words, so I am harder for you.”

  Shit, shit, shit.

  Yes, yes, yes.

  “Please…ride me, Master,” I husked. “Fuck my cunt with your hard, huge dick.”

  He grunted ruthlessly. As his cock surged bigger against my walls.

  “Beg me to hurt you with it.”

  “Yes. Please. Stab it into me until I scream. I need it. I need—”

  “Say it, Lucina. I shall keep it safe. Say it.”

  The tears worked into sobs, as the words were freed from my soul. “I need the pain. Give it to me. Take it from me…”

  “Yes.” He thundered into me, filling the room with the brutal smacks of his flesh upon mine, turning my body and my mind and my soul into the willing, wanton instruments of his desire…of our desire. Taking my lust, and turning it into pure fire. Taking my surrender, and turning it into his power—the life force he gave right back to me, burning and strong, in the form of every savage plunge into my hot, tight tunnel.

  “My good—”

  Thrusts and pain.

  “—sweet—”

  Desire and deliverance.

  “—fuck!”

  And then…transcendence.

  The explosion of everything. The funneling of my senses, my sex, my essence, my world, into the words he growled out next, while going completely still inside me.

  “Beg me again, Lucina.” His breaths came heavy and fast on my neck. His chest heaved and pushed at my back. His hands came together, almost in prayer, as he rubbed both thumbs along the pulsing button at my core. “Beg me for my come.”

  “Yes!” I screamed it, beyond caring who heard, even over the revelry of the crowd and the ongoing booms of the fireworks. “Give it to me, Master. Give it all to me!”

  A ferocious sound gripped him, pummeling his body as he penetrated me…then poured into me. He pumped and pumped and pumped, his cock bursting and his fingers stroking, spiraling my own desire until I could do nothing but detonate, my knees giving out as my sex became a perfect, throbbing star. As the orgasm went on, Shiraz wrapped me tight against him, one arm supporting my weight as the other hand adored my clit, coaxing me toward another wash of incredible implosion.

  “M-master…oh, God…I can’t…”

  He turned me around—but only so he could press me back against the wall, letting my tank fall back into place, replacing that submissive darkness with an even stricter dominion: his midnight-colored stare.

  “You can,” he snarled. “And you will. tell me you understand.”

  “Y-yes,” I sighed. “I—I understand.”

  The edges of his eyes creased a little, but that was his only sign of approval. I had no idea what his intention was, even as he withdrew his hand from my pussy in order to rip the condom off his cock, still beautiful and semi-hard.

  “Keep your thighs spread, sweet one.”

  “Yes, Massss…oh!”

  He angled his thigh in, replacing his hand with the fullness of his bulging quadricep. Because he was still mostly dressed, my clit had instant, extra abrasion from his pants. Arousal rushed in all over again, searing and pulsing and overwhelming, especially when he dipped his head to fully take my mouth beneath his.

  At once, our bodies lurched toward each other. Pressed like power magnets, our seal interrupted only by the heat of his cock—unbelievably, jerking with fresh blood again. I reached down, savoring that heated flesh beneath my fingers, massaging the length of him in time to the rhythm he set for my pussy along his thigh.

  “Va cock de Créacu.” His whole body undulated, though he stayed back far enough to keep our gazes locked. His face, set in beautiful lines of pure resolve, was changed by the fireworks from angel to demon then back again. I watched, fascinated by the changes. I didn’t care if we were in heaven or hell, as long as I could hold him like this…worship his magnificent dick like this. “That is…good, tupulai. So fucking good.”

  With my free hand, I gripped the bulge of his shoulder, conscious yet again of his royal formality and my near nudity. I was so turned-on, there was probably a massive streak of my cream on his thigh now—but that consequence was on him. I’d only come in here to fix a friend’s evening gown. Not that I complained one damn bit now, as my body raced toward its next shattering climax…

  “Squeeze me harder, Lucina. Fuck—yessss—near the tip. I have more for you. Make me come again.”

  Well, hell. Now he was fulfilling fantasies I didn’t know I had. But I could definitely go with the flow, especially when it involved attacking him like this. Making him growl at me like this.

  “Like this, Master?”

  “Yes. Fuck, yes.” His voice was a sparse grate as he forced my body up and down on his leg. I gripped him tighter, fingers digging into his arm and stroking around his cock, as our lust climbed together…and our heart
s collided once again.

  We came in a rush, him then me, the hot spurt of his essence coating my fingers a second before the warm rush of mine drenched his leg. Colors cascaded over us, flashing in his eyes as we found the completion of our passion…the union of our hearts.

  Still rocking our bodies in rhythmic sensuality, Shiraz gazed down through the tumble of his hair, curling up one side of his lip. He was so replete with roguish satisfaction, my heart flipped three more times. We stayed locked like that, spinning down from our ecstasy as the last of the fireworks fizzled in the night. The crowd started strolling back inside, drawn by the promise of dancing and dessert service.

  Shit-eating grin still plastered across his face, the prince of perfection finally extracted his thigh from my crotch. I couldn’t help but glance down—then let out a giggle. I was, after all, still me.

  “Sure hope you have a discreet dry cleaners around here.” In LA, I had a tidy list of recommendations.

  Frown. A small and fast one, but intense as if I’d jabbed myself. Hard.

  LA. Even my brain had called it that.

  Not home.

  Not even a place I was looking forward to seeing inside the next 24 hours. Okay, yeah; I missed Mom and Ezra and margaritas and bobas—and perhaps, a little, the nice lady who really did rock my dry cleaning—but with the idea of going home, there came the inevitability of leaving Arcadia.

  Of leaving…him.

  Reactions tumbled around my senses, disjointed and uneven, as Shiraz bent to help me step back into my shorts. Sorrow. Longing. Loss. Aching. All the same stupid shit that’d bombarded during our moony stares across the lawn at each other, only worse. The conflict, and my anger about it, were only worsened by his silent tenderness about covering me again. What the hell? I’d been ready for this for days—but not anymore. This last hurrah fuck had changed everything, turning my heart back into a tomato in a pinball machine.

  When he was done, he stood, preparing to turn—but still didn’t leave well enough alone. One second I was still plastered to the wall, barely keeping my legs from crumbling beneath me; the next I was cradled against his brocaded chest, being hauled off to—