Winter's Whispers (The Wicked Winters #10) - Scarlett Scott Page 0,45

this madness,” he whispered into her mouth as he positioned the blunt head of his rod between her thighs.

As he spoke the words, he ran himself over her folds, slicking himself with her wetness.

“No stopping,” she said against his lips.

He pressed against her core, where his finger had been. But his cock, as he had called it, was so much larger. Just when she thought she could not withstand another second of waiting, he thrust. He was inside her, stretching her, claiming her.

Pain and pleasure mixed in a heady crescendo.

Blade was atop her, his hard body between her thighs, pinning her to his bed. The intimacy of the moment was almost surreal. She had imagined the act more times than she could count since meeting this man. And yet, nothing had prepared her.

He kissed her again, beginning to move. Slowly. Another shallow pump of his hips. More stretching, a slight burn. It was not uncomfortable as she had been warned it would be by others who whispered behind fans and repeated what their elder sisters, mothers, and aunts had told them.

No, indeed. Everything about making love with him was wondrous. She was more aware of herself than she had ever been, of all the places where their bodies joined in delicious friction.

He guided her legs around his waist and sank all the way to the hilt. The sensation was exquisite. She shook with it. Cried out with it. Having him deep within her felt so perfectly right, so achingly good.

He broke the kiss, staring down at her, his countenance tense, troubled. “How are you, love?”

She cradled his face in her hands. “The best I have ever been.”

It was true. There was pain; that could not be denied. But there was also an exhilarating, foreign sense of fulfillment. His concern for her welfare was sweet, though not surprising. She had come to know there was far more to Blade Winter than he admitted and pretended over the duration of this house party.

Here was a side that was just hers.

For now, said the bitter voice within her. A warning.

She cast it aside, brought his mouth back to hers.

He kissed her hard, and then he withdrew, almost leaving her body entirely, only to sink back inside her. Pleasure engulfed her, chasing the pain. In and out he moved, again and again. With each pump of his hips, she thought she would come undone again. But it was not until he bit her lower lip and reached between them to toy with the swollen nub of her sex that the next release rolled over her.

It was different with him inside her like this, even better than before. She was intensely aware of him, so large and thick and rigid, of her sheath tightening on him. Pleasure slammed through her, like the crack of thunder in a summer’s storm. Sudden, intense, surprising.

She spent, crying out into his kiss.

He stiffened, moving faster, his every motion heightening her pleasure. On a guttural cry, he withdrew from her. With a low moan, he rocked into the bedclothes between her spread thighs, finding his own release.

He collapsed atop her, his heart pounding to match hers, and Felicity stroked his back, holding him tight.

Never wanting to let him go.

Knowing she would have to all too soon.

Chapter Eleven

Blade had never lingered in bed with his lovers.

Bedding them had always been about one purpose: getting the poison out of him. But in the aftermath of making love to Felicity, everything was different. He was different.

Or mayhap he had been different with her all along, and he was only realizing it now. Hell. He did not know. All he was certain of was the deep and abiding tenderness rushing through him for her.

Slowly, he returned to bone and sinew—making love to her had initially turned his mind and body into pudding. He rolled to his side, belatedly aware he was likely crushing her with his massive size, all his weight upon her.

An unexpected rush of foreign emotion seized him, clogging his throat for a moment as he drank in the sight of her, naked and flushed beside him. She was so gloriously beautiful. Making love to her still seemed as if it were a dream, despite her presence in his bed.

He never wanted her to leave.

Never wanted the night to end.

He swallowed, caught her hand in his, and raised it to his lips for a kiss. “Thank you.”

Her mouth was swollen from his kisses. The flecks of gold in her hazel gaze were