and then his pants. In the low firelight, shadows trapped in his muscles, highlighting every ridge and curve. Runes, he was beautiful. A dark God risen from the Netherworld.
“Now?” he asked, his husky voice settling low and warm in her belly.
“Come here.”
He did as told. “So demanding. What else?”
“Kiss me.”
He did, sliding over her as his mouth captured hers. And the soft, caring way he kissed her this time, as if she might break, was almost enough to undo her.
Her lips parted in a moan as his hands began to move over her body. Fire followed his caresses, inflaming every inch of her flesh as he stroked closer and closer to where she wanted.
“Tell me,” she rasped against his mouth. “When you looked at me earlier, what were you thinking about?”
His growl tickled her wet, swollen lips. “Would you like me to show you?”
“Yes.”
He tsked. “Where are those manners?”
“Yes, please.”
Her back arched as his fingers finally went where she wanted them to. Wicked, throbbing heat surged to meet them, rolling down her middle in searing waves.
His growl rattled the tent, and he stilled for a moment before resuming, only this time slowly. So damned slowly.
At the same time, his mouth coasted down her throat.
Tasting her. Gliding against her skin so very softly. She could feel his primal need to use his fangs. Could feel them dancing over the tender areas of her flesh.
“Such exquisite torture,” he murmured. “I think it only fair you suffer a little too.”
Her hips were moving in frustrated circles. He snarled, pinning her with one hand while the other continued building the pressure inside her with slow, halting strokes meant to torture and tease.
Her belly tightened as she remembered last time, but—
“More,” she whispered. “I need to feel you. All of you.”
Something dark and greedy rippled across his features. She went to lift her legs around him, but his hand gripped her thighs. “Slowly, Haven.”
Holding her stare, he slid his hands behind her knees and then guided her legs until they locked behind him. His jaw was clenched taut as he settled low and began to kiss her. The sensuality of that kiss lit a fire inside so hot she half-expected to open her eyes and see flames dancing off her skin.
She felt his length press against her. “When I looked at you, Haven? This was what I imagined doing.”
A moan parted her lips as he began to fill her, slowly—so damned slowly. The muscles of his neck and jaw trembled as he fought to control his darker instincts. Pressure swelled to fill her. She tried to quell that ache as she tightened her legs around his waist. Tried to force him deeper.
“Such a greedy Beastie,” he growled as he kissed her.
She slipped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, drowning in the feel of Stolas. His scent, his lithe, powerful body, his amused growl. His hips were moving in maddeningly slow, teasing circles. That deep wire of tension growing tauter down her middle, sharper, until it felt razor-edged.
“Is this what you meant by belonging to you?” she whispered.
He snarled, moving faster, and she quickly angled her hips so that he plunged deeper—
She cried out, and his fangs clamped down softly on her bottom lip in warning.
But she was moving against him now, that exquisite pressure building and building.
She felt something primal and raw take hold as he whispered, “Someone needs a lesson on how to behave.”
His mouth covered hers. And when his tongue slid between her lips, he buried himself all the way inside her. She moaned, his tongue spearing deeper as he rocked against her. That exquisite ache became a coiling sensation of pleasure that tightened with every thrust.
She lost herself in what followed. The tortuous dance as he dragged her to the edge of pleasure again and again only to rip it away.
Cruelly, wickedly. Over and over and over until—
That razor-edged tension whipsawed through her like lightning, followed by wave after wave of pleasure. As the last wave crested over her, Stolas shuddered, letting out a soft groan. They lay there for what could have been minutes or hours, entangled together, not saying a word as her legs trembled and sensation slowly returned to her body.
When he finally rolled onto his side and pulled her to him, a part of her longed to stay like this forever. In this moment, she wasn’t the Goddess-Born and he wasn’t a Seraphian Prince.