He paused, captivated by the sight of Rosalind laying before him, her knees bent and pressed together, her long legs completely on show, and her hands grasping the grass above her head, the position forcing her concealed breasts high into the air.
He growled again, the hunger and need he felt for her spiralling beyond his control. The scent of her arousal filled the air, a sweet heady aroma that called to him, urged him to take her and satisfy her, and spend himself within her.
His length jerked at the idea and he rose to his knees and hesitated only briefly before issuing the mental command to send his armour away. His heart pounded faster and he told himself this was necessary, fighting to control his fear and the seed of vulnerability that threatened to throw tendrils around his heart and squeeze it in his chest. Little Wild Rose would only look upon him with desire, not scorn or disgust. She wanted this and he wanted it too, needed it with a ferocity that drove back his fear, holding it in check.
The black scales of his armour peeled away from his body, racing up his legs, over his torso and down his arms to the twin bands around his wrists.
Rosalind’s eyes tracked them and then roamed back to his chest, her pupils dilating as her gaze devoured him, the intensity of it scalding his flesh.
Her eyes slowly lowered, drifting over his chest at first and causing his markings to flare and a shiver to go through him, and then heading lower still. His heart raced and he fought the urge to call his armour back to him.
That urge died the moment her eyes fixed on his length, darkened to near black, and the scent of her desire grew heavier, the need he could feel in her more intense. It beckoned him, stoking his own hunger for her. The heat of her gaze on his cock, the way she looked at it as if she needed it more than anything in the world, stirred only fire and need within him when he had expected it to bring darker memories to the surface of his mind.
His own need for her, together with his instinct to please his mate and a new desire born of his growing feelings for her, kept them at bay. He wanted his female, his Little Wild Rose, to know pleasure from his touch and his body being within hers. He wanted her to feel every inch of him and know he desired her and no one else.
Needed her and no one else.
He placed his hands on her knees and eased them apart, his breath catching in his throat again as he revealed her plush glistening petals. His cock jerked, throbbed so hard it ached, and he couldn’t hold back the feral growl that curled through him.
She wriggled, her desperation coming through their link, telling him of her need.
He lowered his left hand to her core and groaned as he dipped his fingers into her soft folds, and her hot moisture coated them. So hungry for him. Gods, he was as hungry for her.
He dropped himself over her again, grasped his cock and trailed the head down her. Her heat scalded him, tearing another groan from his throat that she echoed. One he drew out as he pushed inside her, inch by inch, forcing her to take as much of him as her body would allow. Her grip on the grass tightened, her body arching in response to the invasion, and her lips parted as she moaned until the head of him touched her deepest part.
Vail stilled, feeling her wet heat encasing him, her body gloving his, clenching him sweetly and tightly. Made for him. His mate. She would desire him and no other.
He leaned over her, settling his weight on his elbows and thrust forwards, pushing deeper, tearing a moan from her before he withdrew almost all of the way and plunged back in, ripping another from her lips. He lowered his head to her throat, nicked it again with his fangs, and drank as he pumped into her with long deep thrusts. He grunted and instinct seized control, hunger demanded he sate it.
He lowered his left hand to her thigh and grasped it, holding it against his hip as he thrust into her and stole drops of blood from the mark on her throat. She moaned and writhed, her breasts pressing against his chest, and he let her, loving the way she responded so beautifully to him.
When she placed one hand on his shoulders, he allowed it, welcomed the feel of her caressing his back as he made love with her, joining their bodies in a slow union that threatened to send him out of his mind with pleasure. Did she feel the same?
She moaned, as if she knew his thoughts and wanted him to know she felt the same, that bliss flowed through her with each thrust of his length into her, each meeting of their bodies.
“Vail,” she breathed and he moaned against her throat, uttering her name in his mind as his balls drew up.
He grasped her harder and thrust deeper, shorter and quicker strokes that had his pelvis meeting hers. Each meeting tore another moan from her, a little noise of bliss that he used as a guide. His female was close.
She tensed and pressed her fingers into his shoulder. “More.”
Vail could only comply with that command, felt driven to give his female what she desired, because he wanted to feel her climax on him, needed to hear her moan his name as she came with him in a blissful union, one that felt as if it was healing him.
He lost himself in her, in the feel of her clutching him and the sound of her moans, and the taste of her skin and her blood. She whimpered, the sound born of ultimate pleasure, and murmured his name, held him tighter as if she feared he would pull away at this critical moment.
He would never deny her anything.
Not anymore.
His Little Wild Rose had tamed him with her tenderness, had shown him that this act could be beautiful and everything opposite of what he had experienced before, and he was eternally grateful to her for it.
He withdrew and plunged deep into her again, and she cried out, the sound echoing around the forest. Her body exploded into a symphony of quivering and trembling, and her pleasure flooded the link between them, blasting through him as she climaxed.
He thrust again and grunted into her throat as seed boiled up his cock. He held her hip, clutching her to him, holding her immobile as he spilled inside her, his length throbbing with each burst of release. His entire body shook, trembling against hers, the pleasure stealing his strength as his mingled with hers, combining to leave him hazy.
He buried his face into her neck and held her to him, unwilling and unable to bring himself to release her. Not when emotions blasted through him that threatened to shake his world to its foundations.
Feelings he never thought he would experience.
He lay inside her as they crashed over him, gaining clarity at last, stealing his breath and shocking him.
Leaving him forever changed.
Little Wild Rose was his fated female.
And he was in love with her.
CHAPTER 25
Vail woke slowly to the calming smell of the woods around him and the unique scent of Rosalind. He focused on the forest, trying to calculate how far it was to the edge closest to the Third Realm. They had trekked for another four hours after resting and much of it had been uphill. Rosalind had quickly flagged, and he had set up a camp for her in a small clearing in the trees. He had hunted for her too, providing her with sustenance, and had cooked the meat over their fire. When he had offered it to her, she had told him to eat first.
Little Wild Rose knew much of the world but lacked knowledge about his kind.
Elves didn’t partake of meat. He could eat fruits and vegetables for nourishment, but it was blood that kept him strong. She had been shocked to learn such a thing and had promptly offered her blood. Vail had refused. As much as he needed it, she needed it more. He couldn’t risk her growing weaker.
After she had eaten, he had insisted that she rest. She had of course insisted that he rest too.
He had ended up laying under a tree beside her on his back, but during sleep, it appeared he had moved.
He now lay on his side with Rosalind nestled against him, her back pressing into his front.
He stared at the back of her head, watching the light from the tree’s flowers dancing over the golden strands, waiting for the darkness to seize him and demand he push her away.<
br />
A wholly different reaction occurred within him.
He grew painfully hard in his black trousers.
Rather than pushing her away, he shuffled closer and pressed his aching erection against her backside. Gods, he wanted her again. He no longer feared the desire that overwhelmed him at times, how he would ache for her, a need that only she could satisfy. He no longer feared it because he knew she would let him be in control and she would welcome him. She would let him do as he pleased with her, trusting that he would be gentle and give her pleasure, and that humbled him.
That she trusted him when she was at her most vulnerable stole his breath and made him want to kiss her again.
He couldn’t reach her lips though and his body seemed rather preoccupied with rubbing against her, an action he had little control over. He worked his hips against her backside, the friction both pleasuring him and maddening him. It wasn’t enough.
She arched her bottom into his next thrust and he froze.
“Don’t stop,” she murmured, a sleepy quality to her soft voice. “Please.”
He seized hold of her hip through her black dress and rubbed again, shuddering at the feel of her. He needed more too.
He grasped the soft black material of her dress and pulled it up. When it reached her hip, he slid his hand beneath it, exploring her stomach and edging ever higher, aiming for her breasts. He wanted to feel them.
She loosed a moan when he cupped her left breast beneath her dress and arched against him again, rubbing his cock with her backside. He groaned and thrust against her, the friction still not enough.
He fondled her breast, teasing the pert nipple between his fingers, eliciting another cry of pleasure from her. His female enjoyed this. He pressed kisses across her shoulder as he touched her, taking his time about it, learning every inch of her and divining what she enjoyed from her soft breathless gasps and the ripples of pleasure that flowed through their link.
His fingers quested lower again, over the plane of her stomach, and he slipped them into her underwear. She lifted her leg, opening to him, and he groaned against her skin as he felt her wetness and heat, the evidence of her desire for him.
“Vail,” she whispered and the husky sound of his name falling from her lips aroused him further, making him painfully hard for her.
He gave a momentary thought to the fact that only days ago, he would have reacted negatively to her using his name and now he couldn’t seem to hear it falling from her lips enough times to satisfy him.
She moaned and he growled when she rolled to face him, stealing her body away from his touch.
She looked up at him, her blue eyes sparkling and enchanting him. “Can I kiss your chest?”
He tensed.
The brightness in her eyes faded and he sensed a glimmer of the hurt his reaction caused in her.
“I don’t have to,” she said and he held his hand up, silencing her before she convinced him that she was right.
He mentally checked himself over. He didn’t feel as if he would lose control if he allowed Rosalind to touch him and place her lips on him. He knew she was Rosalind and that she wouldn’t hurt him, and her magic was at a low-level again, held back by her.
On top of that, he craved the feel of her hands on him, had enjoyed it when she had interacted with him the last time they had made love, participating in the moment they shared.
He nodded.
Rosalind leaned in and the first brush of her lips across his bare chest sent a ripple of heat through him. The second had his markings flaring in response, the fiery sensation unsettling him and cranking his arousal higher. She swept her lips over his pectoral, following the line of his markings. Her silky hair caressed his chest too, adding to the blissful feel of her touching him.
He felt each brush and sweep of her lips on his soul, every one of them speaking of tenderness, affection and desire, a combination that delighted him. When she reached his nipple, she swirled her tongue around it, and his markings flared again, chasing over his body and sending his hunger soaring, until he couldn’t stop himself from rocking his hips, thrusting at the air and imagining being inside her.
He could smell her desire. He could feel it coating his fingers.
She kissed lower, following the valley between his pectorals, and he lifted his hand and stared at his fingers. He brought them to his mouth and licked them, tasting her honey. A shudder rocked him, leaving him aching with a need to taste more of her.
Vail was so lost in his hunger for her that he didn’t even notice that she had moved him onto his back until she swirled her tongue around his navel. He groaned, the husky and hunger-laced sound startling him, and tensed.
“It’s okay to express your pleasure, Vail,” she whispered against his stomach, her lips brushing his skin with each word, and released a breathy moan of her own as she kissed lower.
His insides trembled. His heart hitched.
Her fingers skimmed the waist of his trousers and she looked up at him, her blue eyes dark with desire and intent. He didn’t have the strength to stop her as she unlaced his trousers, her hands rubbing his length through the black material and her eyes on his the whole time. Her breasts hung in her dress, squashed together, enticing his gaze to fall there and his mind to race forwards to imagining kissing her breasts as she had kissed his chest.
She tugged his trousers open, the rough action sending a blissful shiver through him together with the cool air as it rushed over his straining erection.
She lowered her head. Her hot moist breath blew across the head of his shaft and it jerked, his balls squeezing tight. He grunted and clutched the grass, breathing hard as pleasure jolted him to his bones.
“Do you want me to place my mouth on you?”
Those low sultry words shocked him and he stared down the length of his body at her where she kneeled over him, her mouth dangerously close to his length and her blue eyes promising pleasure.
She was serious.
She would do such a thing?
Kordula had never done such a thing. She had taken her pleasure and given him none.
He frowned, his mood shattering and darkening as memories crowded his mind, visions of Kordula poised above him, pinning him down as she rode him.
“Come back to me, Vail.” Rosalind’s whispered words cut through the darkness like a shaft of light and she shimmered back into existence, a soft look in her eyes. “Focus on the woods and on me. You’re here with me… and I want to kiss you. Will you allow it?”
He drew in a deep breath to calm himself, doing as Rosalind had instructed but shifting all of his focus to her rather than keeping part of it on the woods. He needed to feel her and know she was with him, that it was her lips and her touch that gave him pleasure. His Little Wild Rose. His eternal mate.
He nodded stiffly.
She smiled and lowered her gaze to his length. It jerked, bobbing towards her, as eager for her caress as the rest of him.
She skimmed her hands down over his hips and his markings flared again, the ones that curled over his hips and around his groin and buttocks illuminating her face with a rainbow of colours.
“They’re so beautiful,” she murmured and stroked them, tearing a groan from his throat and making his hips buck against his will. “You’re so beautiful.”
He went to frown at her but she ran her tongue over the head of his cock and he tipped his head back into the grass and moaned instead. He fisted the grass into his fingers, clutching it as she swirled her tongue around the sensitive head and stroked one hand down the shaft, revealing the crown. He squeezed his eyes shut and ground his teeth, unsure whether he would survive this. It felt too good.
No one had ever pleasured him like this.
She gently held him in one hand and wrapped her lips around the tip, and he swallowed hard as she took him into her mouth. Her moist wet heat enveloped him, instantly bringing to mind how she felt when he was inside her. He grunted and thrust into her mouth, unable to stop hims
elf from shifting his hips and obeying the instinct to pump into her.
She moaned and her tongue vibrated against the head, sending a thousand tiny shivers racing down its length and through him.
“Rosalind,” he murmured, lost in her and the moment.
She paused and he growled, could sense her surprise at him using her name and didn’t want her to stop and take it in or mention it.
He placed his left hand on the top of her head, tangling his fingers in her silky hair, and guided her on him. She began moving her mouth on him again, every suck she made as she withdrew addling him and tearing another deep growling moan from his lips. He tried to keep still but it was impossible, the instinct to move too strong to deny.
He pumped into her with shallow thrusts as she sucked him, swirled her tongue around the sensitive head, and teased him with her fingers. She lowered them to his balls and rolled his sac and he grunted, jerking hard into her mouth in response, desperate for more. She moaned, the vibration of it through his cock almost his undoing, and brought her hand into play. She wrapped it around his length, holding it firmly, and began stroking in time with the movement of her hot mouth on him.
Vail was lost.
He tipped his head back into the grass and gave himself over to her, floating in a sea of pleasure where every inch of him felt alive and overly sensitive, the smallest caress of her hair on his stomach almost too much to bear.
Release coiled at the base of his length and he tried to hold it back, wanted to last longer and steal every drop of pleasure from this act. His balls drew up, tightening painfully, and he shuddered as she firmly stroked her hand down his length and sucked hard. A million stars exploded behind his closed eyes, fire and ice swept through him, and he snarled as his cock throbbed, shooting jets of seed into her mouth. She kept sucking him, her tongue teasing him, lapping at him and flickering over the sensitive head. He grunted, tensed, couldn’t take it.
Tempted by a Rogue Prince Page 28