Dusk Avenger (Flirting with Monsters #3) - Eva Chase Page 0,80

also avoid incinerating myself in painful ways if I was in the process of being thoroughly fucked. Good to know.

My legs splayed farther apart with a need too overwhelming to deny, and Omen didn’t require any further invitation. His cock rammed into me, sending pleasure sizzling through my nerves.

As he plunged deeper, he grasped my thigh as if to haul us even closer together than we were already joined. My body bucked with his of its own volition, urging him faster, harder. With each forceful thrust, ecstasy roared through me in a growing inferno.

Omen tore his mouth from mine to ravage the side of my neck and the curve of my shoulder. “You,” he growled, but if he was pissed off about what we were doing, it wasn’t enough to stop. Stopping was a concept that had burned away with our clothes and any common sense I’d still possessed. Why the fuck had we waited so long to start?

It might not have been the wisest act I’d ever taken part in. Leaving aside the whole fiery destruction element, there was our new discovery about shadowkind fertility—but if my parents had needed some unknown magic to perform the impossible feat of my conception, the possibility of it happening by accident felt far too distant to wrench me from this bliss.

An unexpected sensation slid across my calf, like the teasing of a finger—except Omen’s fingers were currently tangled in my hair and clutching my jaw to yank my lips back to his.

An inkling crept through my pleasure-hazed mind. I groped across the sculpted planes of his blazing back to the even more tempting ass I’d admired through his slacks on more than one occasion, and found out just how much those slacks had been hiding.

He did have a tail even in his unshifted form—the one shadowkind feature he couldn’t lose when otherwise in his full mortal guise. A tail that shivered as my hand closed around its warm, sinuous length.

My touch must have sparked something enjoyable for Omen, because one of those groaned growls pealed out of him. It reverberated into me with a fresh rush of delight. The tail’s devil-pointed tip traced another giddy line up my leg and then along my side in its own caress.

Just how much control did he have over that part of his body—and when would I get to test that out?

I wasn’t going to ask him now, both because I wasn’t sure any request wouldn’t knock him out of the furor of the moment and back into his frigid restraint and because I was skyrocketing toward my orgasm too swiftly now to let out more than a moan.

Omen pounded into me with all that fiery intensity, his tail flicking along my ass. With another moan bursting from my lips, I crackled apart like a firework, ecstasy singing through every part of my heat-flooded body.

I dug my fingers into Omen’s back, and a ragged breath stuttered out of him. Even more heat pulsed into me as he reached his own climax.

And then it was done. I was lying there on the bed with the hellhound shifter poised over me, coming down from the high of what he’d just minutes ago sworn he never wanted to happen. Uncertainty dampened the afterglow.

Did I want to look into his eyes and see what reaction was waiting for me there?

I might have been bold to a fault, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t procrastinate. My gaze slid first to the bedspread beside us, and a giggle tickled up my throat.

The fabric was scorched black. When Omen eased back, withdrawing from me, the charred area disintegrated into flaky cinders.

“Well,” I said, “I guess we’re going to have to find the equines a new bedspread. Maybe if it’s twice as twinkly, they won’t mind.”

I dared to glance up at Omen then. He was staring down at me, his skin returned to its normal pinkish human shade and his eyes their mortal blue. Any bits of his short-cropped hair that weren’t sticking up were plastered to his forehead with sweat from that rather intensive workout with bonus flames.

His expression wasn’t exactly warm, but it wasn’t hostile or horrified either. He ran a finger across my collarbone and rubbed the soot he’d wiped off my skin against his thumb. “It’s a mess all around. Still a disaster.”

His tone was even enough that I felt comfortable trailing my hand across his pecs to smear the effects of our merging there too. “I’m pretty sure the