feeling it with every perfect sink of his rigid, taut flesh.
“Almost there, favori.” As he mutters it, his hands spread me wider. “Open up, Ella. Just a little more.” His head falls back. His grimace is a flash of white. “Yes. Fuck…yes.”
I cannot echo the words. Nothing but a cry spews, as he penetrates me with his full length. I shiver as his sac slams my ass but then he withdraws, preparing to stab in again. When he does, it hurts worse—and tingles better—than ever before.
“By the powers!” I tremble again, from head to toe. He is so big—and growing by the moment.
Before he lunges again, just for a moment, he pauses. I look up, confronting his gaze. Its deep green patina reminds me of the art deco demons adorning the ledges of his Upper West Side mansion, shining down on me with equally carnal intent—
Which explains why he has stopped.
Because he is readying the words.
The words he knows I will hate him for. Worship him for.
“There’s only one power you need to concern yourself with right now.” An arch of one whisky-colored brow. An enticing roll of his hips…teasing my most sensitive tissues. “You know what that is, don’t you?”
Yes. I hate him.
Have never wanted him more.
“Yes, Cassian.” I hope he does not make me say it. Pray he makes me say it.
“Then say it.”
“The…the only power here is…is yours.”
“Good girl.” He reverses the roll. Adds a smooth slide, so his erection brushes my clit as he pushes back in. “And what am I going to do with that power?”
My breath shakes. My tunnel convulses. Oh, the terrible, incredible things he does to me. My body…but more vividly, my mind…and my spirit.
Taking me. Breaking me. Wide open…
“You will pleasure me.”
“What else?”
“You will fuck me.”
“And…?”
“You will—” The words turn into a tight swallow.
He dips his head. Sinks teeth into my neck. “I will do what?”
“You will make me come.”
He licks the abrasions along my carotid. “How many times?”
I swallow hard. By the Creator, he does not hold back a single, dirty syllable of what turns me on the most…soaks my channel, dominates my mind…consumes me with longing for nothing else, nobody else, but him.
“How many times, Mishella?”
“As—as many times as you say.”
A sound of rough satisfaction rumbles through him. “As I shall say.” Candlelight plays across his face, flickers in his eyes, turns his mouth into sensual cruelty. As the night deepens, my golden demon thrives. “As I shall dictate before watching you crumble for me, piece by perfect…fucking…piece.” He emphasizes with defined lunges, ensuring the head of his cock delivers the meaning deep inside my sex.
“Yes…Cassian.” I do not wait for his prompt now. I simply know it is what he wishes…just as he sees completely inside me, and knows every detail of every passion I have—perhaps I ever will have. A distinct possibility, since I cannot think of wanting anything else but this—or anyone but him.
He pulls back. Swirls his wet crown along my most tender folds. Pushes his thumbs in, so my erection is stimulated by every inch of his.
Plunges once more inside. Then back out, repeating his torturous teases…
“Powers that be…”
“Not them.” His snarl burns the front of my neck, the curve of my chin, my slightly parted lips. “Who do you beg for this, Mishella?”
“You.” I make the amendment on a gasp. “I beg you, Cassian.”
“Then do it.” He is back inside, taking me with swift passion, hurling us both into our special, spectral space—where the universe peels back and we are exposed, as naked as if we are doing this skin-to-skin…soul-to-soul.
“Please.” The command in his stare turns it into a shaking rasp. “Please, Cassian.”
“Please…what?” He growls it out but punctuates with a hitched breath. Half-second gloat. He might be covering it in black dagger attitude, but this is just as mind-blowing for him as it is me. Six weeks and two days after receiving my birth control injection, we are now able to fully enjoy its benefits—which should be Benefits, capital B.
“Please, Cassian. Let me come!”
He shifts his hands to my hips—controlling their motions as well as his. Setting our pace. “You need it bad, armeau?”
“Dammit! Yes; you know I do.” I cannot quell my frustration. How is he able to hold back from this? From giving us both what we want…and need? The answer is non-essential—as soon as he releases my right hip long enough to reach beneath and swat that butt cheek. “Ahhh! What—”
“That wasn’t begging.”
“Dammit.” I am not so nice about