head once.
Releasing my hands, he sinks to his knees in front of me, pushing the fabric of my dress aside and growling low in his throat as he sees the black tendrils of my wound. The epicenter of the scar where I was hit with the magic is on my back, but it spread out like a dark spiderweb across my skin. Gently, he places his palm over the part he can see, glancing up to check he’s not causing me pain. Reassured by my nod, he traces his fingers over some of the inky lines, tickling my skin and drawing a giggle from me, my hands moving down to fend him off.
He’s instantly in front of me again, pinning my hands above me once more. “That was strike one,” he whispers into my ear, nipping my lobe and drawing a gasp from my lips. Releasing my hands, he drops to his knees again, kissing along the scar and tracing along any others he finds with his fingers. Framing my hips with his large hands, he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my skirt and pushes it down until it falls to the ground.
He groans in pleasure, rubbing his thumbs over the curve of my hips, his face becoming more fae than ever as his pupils narrow to tiny slits. He tilts his head up to look at me, and his hair falls back, exposing his ears, and I’ve never found him more attractive. I stopped noticing his scars long ago, it’s just part of who he is, and I wouldn’t have him otherwise.
Slowly, he begins kissing his way up my body, his soft touch so at odds with his hard exterior. He cups my breasts, squeezing and testing their weight before sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. My back arches away from the tree at the powerful sensations shooting straight to my clit. His eyes shoot up, narrowing as he ensures my arms are still in position above my head, but I haven’t moved them, my body stretched out before him.
Standing to his full height, he grips my wrists, his other hand still on my breast, tweaking my nipple into a stiff peak. Smirking, he swoops in and presses open-mouthed kisses to my lips, stealing my pleasure-filled noises. Pushing me back against the tree, he releases my breast and trails his fingers down my body to between my legs, his growl loud in my ears as he discovers how wet I am. Dropping his head to my neck, he begins kissing against my pulse point again as his fingers begin their exploration. Circling my entrance, he purrs against my skin, making me moan as my entire body ignites.
“So wet for me already,” he whispers in my ear, his voice husky with his desire. When his fingers find my clit, I nearly cry out, my body spasming under his touch. He smiles against my neck as he circles the swollen nub, slowly winding me up. When he removes his hand, I cry out, only to gasp as he gently slaps my clit before rubbing away the sting. “Greedy,” he mumbles against my neck. Before I can open my mouth to complain, I feel his finger at the entrance of my pussy as he works it into me before adding a second. Soon he’s adding a third, moving them in a rhythm that has my pleasure building. Moaning, I drop my head forward and rest it on his shoulder as he twists his fingers, flicking the sweet spot deep inside me. Except he stops.
“No,” he grumbles, starting to remove his fingers. “I want to see your face.”
Raising my head, I meet his stern gaze. As soon as he sees my pleasure addled expression, he grins, all smug male as he nods and gets back to torturing me with his fingers. I want to touch him, but as I tug on his hand, he just tightens his grip on my wrists, leaving me at his mercy for his ministrations. I know if at any point I want him to stop, he will, and I think that’s what is so arousing about it. Although he’s taking control, I’m actually the one who has all of the power here.
Twisting his fingers again, he flicks my G-spot and leans in close, his lips against my ear. “Come for me.” His command tips me over the edge, bliss coursing through me as my orgasm consumes my body, my pussy clutching his fingers as