Wicked (Eternal Guardians #9) - Elisabeth Naughton Page 0,35

draw them between his lips and suck. Wanted to drive her mad with his tongue while he thrust hard into her body.

Imagine it’s my touch teasing your tight pussy, mono mia. My tongue flicking your sensitive clit…

She grunted. Her back arched higher. Knowing she was close, he tightened his grip and stroked faster as he watched her writhe against the mattress and toss her head from side to side.

“Oh gods, yes…”

Her voice echoed in his mind, causing pleasure to gather at the base of his spine. He thrust faster into his hand. Stroked harder. Perspiration dotted his forehead. Water sloshed over the side of the sunken tub.

His attention was fixed solidly on her. On the way her body undulated against the sheets. On her mouth-watering nipples pointing straight up. On her fingers rushing over her clit as he drove her toward a blistering climax he couldn’t wait to reach with her.

Mm, yes. Just like that. Feel me touch you. Feel everything, mono mia. You want to come, don’t you?

“Yes… Yes…”

Surrender to me, and I will show you a pleasure so intense, you’ll never crave anyone but me.

She grunted. Her fingers raced like lightning against her sex.

His skin grew hotter, tighter. Every muscle in his body contracted in anticipation of her release. His hand moved faster beneath the water, stroking in time with her hips rocking up higher and quicker against her fingers. Searching… Needing… Aching for that one scorching moment…

Yes, mono mia. Yes, there… Come for me now. Come for me right… here.

“Oh fuck…” Her spine bowed. Her groan jumped an octave as she threw her head back and screamed.

Heat gathered in the marking on his hip, and as electricity shot into his balls and exploded through his cock, he knew the same blazing orgasm was consuming her high up in the tower in that big bed.

The wicked power of their joined pleasure exploded in every nerve ending until he knew nothing but mindless, boneless, hedonistic bliss.

Zagreus slumped back in the tub as the smoldering orgasm slowly receded. Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes and stared up at the beamed ceiling reflecting the flickering candlelight.

If he hadn’t known before that she was his, he did now. There was absolutely no mistaking it any longer. Her being with him here was not chance. It was fate.

Their fate.

And it was only a matter of time before she realized that fact for herself.

Spent, he slowly climbed out of the bath, dried off, blew out the candles, then moved into his bedchamber. Dropping his towel on the floor, he slid beneath the covers and eased into the pillows, more relaxed than he’d been in—well, in nearly five hundred years.

As sleep tugged at him—the restful sleep that had eluded him for so long—he thought of her once more and told himself that this time everything would be different.

This time he’d do whatever was needed to make her his for all eternity.

Even if he had to keep her as his prisoner to do so.

Cynna paced the length of her sister Isadora’s office, where Elysia had left her and told her to wait.

After twenty-seven years, she still wasn’t particularly comfortable in this castle, but she’d never dreaded being here the way she did right now. What she had to tell Casey…

Her stomach rolled, and she stopped and placed a hand on her belly, this queasiness not from her pregnancy but from dread over what was happening to Talisa.

Cynna knew full well what kind of kinks Zagreus was into, and all she could do now was hope Talisa was strong enough to get through whatever he had planned for her. That and pray that Talisa wasn’t really who he thought her to be.

Footsteps echoed outside the queen’s open office door, followed by voices in the long corridor. Female voices.

Cynna turned just as Elysia stepped into the room with her mother the queen, followed by Casey and Callia.

“Cynna.” Isadora crossed to Cynna and quickly hugged her. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

They looked nothing alike—Cynna with her dark skin and hair from her father, Isadora taking more after their mother with her pale flesh and blonde locks—but over the years they’d become close. And though Cynna was no blood relation to Isadora’s other half-sisters, Cynna considered Casey and Callia to be surrogate sisters as well.

Which, considering what she’d come to tell them, made this whole damn situation so much worse.

“Of course,” Cynna said, releasing Isadora. “I want to help. However I can.”

She looked toward Casey and Callia. Both shared the