His Majesty's Forbidden Temptat - Maisey Yates Page 0,53
haven’t changed. But I have. And I recognize now what burned within me all those years ago. But I couldn’t have you, Alex. What was the point of feeling these things? What was the point when I could never have you? And so they sat inside of me, fuzzy and half realized, and nothing quite like what they are now.”
“Do not test me.”
But she did. She leaned forward and flicked her tongue over his heated length, desire gathering at the base of her spine. She loved him. Every inch of him. Strong and hard and masculine. Glorious. He was everything that she could ever want. Everything she could ever hope for. He was a man. Tortured, alone in a hell of his own making.
His own making? Somebody put him here.
It was true. And she recognized the truth of that as soon as she had the thought. As soon as it entered her head.
His hell had been created by someone. By Dionysus? Who had told him all these things? Who had given him love once and then taken it away?
And so she set about showing him that she never would. She took him deeply into her mouth, luxuriating in him. In all that he was. And all the two of them created together. The heat and the fire. The need too.
There was something blessed about needing another person like this. Something glorious and outrageous, and far beyond anything she had ever hoped to experience before.
It was a relief, actually. To need.
She couldn’t explain it. Except that it made her feel more connected, more, than she ever had before. Except that it created in her a deep sense of purpose and desire.
It made her feel important. It was that belonging, and being belonged to.
That singular relationship she had found with him.
Fate, maybe.
Except... If they had always been fated, they might have found each other earlier. But even fate required a choice.
And she was grateful for the choice.
Grateful for the power that she found within it.
He was shaking beneath her, trembling with need. And oh, how she loved it. She pushed them both to the edge, until he growled and hauled her to her feet. “Enough. Undress me.”
She removed the rest of his clothes, leaving him a glorious, naked warrior before her. A man carved from stone, but a man all the same.
He wanted her. And he might hate himself for it, but he could not be icy when they were together like this. It was impossible.
For in this, there was power. Real power. And maybe here, she would be able to show him that she wasn’t lying. That her love was unconditional. But there wasn’t a horrible story about mistakes he made that he could tell her that would have her turning against him.
No.
He kissed her. Fierce and hard, with everything he had.
And she thought, for a moment, for a glimmer, that he might know. That he might feel it. He stripped her clothes from her body, his movements forceful, intense. And when she was naked before him, she opened her arms to receive him, and found herself being turned over onto her stomach.
“You say you want a man,” he said. “But there is no man. King or beast. That’s all there is. You may have the beast, since you seem so eager to test me.”
He urged her up onto her knees, and she felt his hardness pressing up against the slick entrance to her body.
“Alex...”
And then he was inside of her, deep and rough, and she cried out, half agony, half ecstasy.
He gripped the back of her neck with one hand, and held her hip fast with the other as he poured his fury, his rage into her body.
He was trying to take their connection and twist it. Trying to turn it into something it wasn’t. Trying to make them something they weren’t.
She knew because for some reason it was important to him that this be a sin. That this be a failure.
Not a desire. Not love.
It was so important to him that this be a mistake, that she not love him, that he not love her.
He was determined to villainize himself, to weaponize this thing against himself.
And she could not understand why.
The reason was just out of her reach, and as pleasure built inside of her—in spite of the fact that this was rough and dizzying—the answer moved further out of reach.
She couldn’t think when he was like this.
She could only feel.
That’s the answer. Feeling.
He was thinking. He was doing