All of it.”
“Then take it.” Alexander flipped them so he was on his back and Caraway straddled him.
She braced her knees on both sides of his hips so they held her aloft from his full length. Caraway eased herself down inch by agonising inch, her nails clawing into his massive shoulders.
Her breasts filled his large hands and he tugged on one nipple while he took the other into the hot cavern of his mouth. Alexander lightly worried the rosebud tip between his teeth, sending fissions of electric bliss to her core.
Caraway rocked slowly, adjusting to his great girth until the pain eased to discomfort and the discomfort bloomed into molten ecstasy. All sign of playful disconnection was gone and Alexander was focused on her with a singular intensity. She felt his power rise in his blood and knew when he came, it would spill into her. Fill her.
His hands went for her hips to control her motion, to draw it out, but Caraway was the master now. And she discovered that, in being the master, her concern had to be for his culmination, his pleasure. She could draw him out until she was ready to come, but she wanted to experience the rush of power knowing she was the architect of his ecstasy.
“Come for me, Alexander.” She leant down and drew her tongue across the seam of his lips. He opened for her and she plunged into his mouth, swept her tongue across his, the conqueror—just as he’d done to her.
His claws marked her as his grip tightened and his body went rigid. Alexander was still fighting her, fighting the sensation. She refused to allow it. Caraway crushed her mouth against his, jerked his hair so his neck was exposed to her, and she bit down on the tender place where his carotid pulsed.
Alexander growled low in his throat, animal and primal.
Just as she tasted a drop of his blood, the brimstone burnt her tongue. His razor teeth slipped into her skin and he drank deeply.
Caraway was unexpectedly thrust over the edge of need into rapture. Her orgasm hit hard and fast, foreign. She realised she was experiencing his orgasm as her own. She clung to him as the sensation ricocheted through her like a thousand bullets, hitting every nerve, every sensor, and overloading it with a previously unknown bliss.
Quakes were still shaking her body long after Alexander had finished. He held her there, her face buried in his shoulder as she rode the last waves of sensation.
He stroked down her bare spine and the scent of burning leaves wrapped around her. Caraway inhaled deeply and tangled her finger around a shaggy bit of his inky hair.
She wondered what would happen now, what he would say, if anything. Would this happen again? Caraway knew without a doubt that she wanted it to, but she wondered if maybe she’d simply been a challenge.
“Some challenge I turned out to be, eh, Morningstar?”
“What do you mean?” His hand stilled on her back.
“We haven’t been able to stand each other for four years and now—”
“Caraway, I’ve always thought you were beautiful. I just like to wind you up because when you’re angry you breathe heavy and your breasts bounce in a very pleasing way.”
“Asshole,” she said, without any real conviction.
“Witch.”
She laughed and was silent for a moment. “So, do you think Brody stayed to play with Lila?”
“I’m sure he did. Does that bother you?”
Caraway watched the curl cling to her finger as she thought about the question. “Not so much because it’s him. Does it bother you?”
“What? That Lila is fucking him? No. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”
“I can’t imagine you’d want that kind of relationship, would you?”
“Are you asking?” he said, the teasing tone back in his voice.
“No, I’m not stupid. I was thinking out loud is all.”
“What if I did, Caraway?”
She slapped him lightly on the back of his head. “Don’t start lying to me now. I know your daddy is the Father of Lies and all, but let’s just keep this
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