I reached in farther.
Syn groaned.
Softly squeezed the swells between his thighs.
Syn swore.
Dragged my hand back up his length, savoring every hard, hot inch of the journey.
Syn held his breath. Shuddered hard.
It was heady, having this power over him. A little scary—like walking a dragon on
a leash.
Until the dragon snapped the chain. And decided to breathe fire.
Syn caught my wrist. Steely grip. Clamped tight. It ordered my gaze back up to his.
His face, ruthless and gorgeous, consumed my vision…made it impossible to focus on
anything else, even the panorama outside the window. His temples pulsed. His lips
flattened. His stare turned to blue flames—
As he jammed my hand beneath his waistband.
Held it there, forcing me to grip his heat solely through his briefs. “This what you
need,
astremé
?”
My palm met wet warmth. Power rushed me all over again. The moisture spread along
the cotton, making it cling to his engorged flesh, filling me with a primal sense
of victory already.
“Yeah,” I rasped, massaging him steadily. Fascination stirred into my desire. I was
no stranger to male anatomy—one couldn’t defeat something they didn’t know—but this
was an entirely new lesson. This was about Samsyn—and everything I’d so deeply craved
to know about him for six years. Perhaps longer. If Destiny were a thing, I was certain
it applied to us. He had to be, too. Had to feel it as I cradled the essence of his
body in my hand, and the center of his soul in my stare. “Yeah, big guy,” I emphasized.
“This is exactly what I need.”
A smile flickered across his face. I didn’t complain when lusty urgency replaced it,
matching his harsh jerks at his fly. He yanked the zipper down, flayed the panels
back, and shoved his underwear free.
His naked flesh burst out.
I gasped in new wonderment.
Silken skin. Proud pillar. More moisture dripping from the tip, sliding between my
fingers as I stroked him to full excitement.
“By the Creator.” I used the expression to honor him, for honored is what I felt.
And awed. And so,
so
aroused. “
Samsyn
.” I lifted a smile at his searching stare. “You’re beautiful.”
He lowered to one elbow again. His hair fanned my face as he tenderly took my lips.
“And you are beyond anything my dreams could create.”
“You—you’ve dreamt about me?”
Another smile tempted his sensual lips. “I plead the fifth.”
“That only works on
my
turf, Arcadian.
“I thought everything was your turf, starlight.”
“Ahhh.” I managed a coy smirk. Barely. Thoughts, much less words, were nearly impossible
to form with his perfect penis filling my hand. “Then you’ve fallen for my grand deception,
too.”
“Is that it?” He shuddered out a breath as I added light skims of my nails to the
exploration. “Very…impressive.”
“Yeah, well. I’m good at that deception stuff.”
“No.” His retort was sudden—and snarled. “You are
not
.” Kissed me hard in emphasis. “And thank fuck for it.”
Questions. About a thousand. Flying at my brain like archers’ arrows in an old movie,
launched at the castle stronghold all at once. With vehemence matching his, I snipped
the image short. He hadn’t shared his mysteries with me in six damn years; the possibility
of it happening now—
especially
now—was as likely as the moon turning to cheese. And selfishly speaking, his desire
was much more fun than his darkness.
Oh, God. So much more.
Yeah…especially now.
He transformed again as I shifted my hold, dipping to cup the dense sac at his base.
Holy
hell.
The man simply lifted a slow smile as I explored the…goods. It was as if the Creator
knew, in crafting a man the size of a Sequoia, he’d need a spirit to match. A warrior’s
drive…and a sex fiend’s desires.
And a wicked, bacchanalian body to implement it with.
Especially the cock I never wanted to let go.
I told him so with a needy sigh. Showed him so by scraping back up his length, purposely
tracing the thick veins, now throbbing and so damn hot. Finally, I slicked over his
broad crown, shiny and taut and ready.
“I think…you’re right,” I told him between one pant and the next.
“About…what?”
“Deception isn’t my thing.” As I drove my gaze up into his, I closed my palm over
the tip of his erection. “Can you tell what I’m thinking now?”
At first, he only moaned. Then growled. Then moaned again, before hitching up his
mouth in an expression I
had
seen before. He used the smirk on sparring partners all the time—during the moment
he was done playing around, and would officially start kicking their ass.
“You are thinking…that you would greatly like to be fucked.”
“S-s-see?” One word, spilled in three shaky sighs, due to his suckling pressure down
my neck. “I c-can’t hide a th-thing from you, Cimarron.”
He dipped into the valley between my breasts. Bit into the side of one erect peak
then the other. “Just the way I like it, Valen.”
Cheeky? Yes. But it made me as gooey as a greeting card ad. Bantering had always been
a part of us, one of many threads woven into the fabric of what we were: a tapestry
that had, in so many ways, simply just
been
, from that first handclasp on the runway together. Over the years, the tapestry waited
in the shadows of time, letting us light it up as we were ready. Sometimes we’d discover
huge chunks of it together. Sometimes the progress was an inch-by-inch process.
Tonight qualified as a giant, freaking swath.
A beautiful, breathtaking vista.
Nothing verified that like the splendor of the man who rose back over me.
He aligned his face just inches over mine. His azure eyes impaled me. His strong blade
of a nose flared. His tongue slipped out, wetting the sensual angles of his mouth—
As he fitted the crown of his cock against the cushions of my sex.
My lungs stopped. My muscles tensed.
Syn waited. Gave me a little smile. It was a unique expression from him, with a hint
of teeth showing past the strained set of his lips. Unique…and sexy. Where’d he come
up with that? Was that his special “deflower the virgin” look? And did I want to know
how many other women on Arcadia had seen it before me?
“Sssshh,
astremé
.”
“What?” I frowned. “I didn’t say—”
“You did not have to.” He brushed hair from my forehead before kissing it. “Quiet
the thoughts. Let in the feelings.”
I huffed into the dent between the slabs of his chest. “I’m letting in plenty of—
ohhh
!”
A tiny throb, as he slid in a little more.
So
that
was what he meant by feelings.
Then came the giddiness, as he took my lips once more. And the shock, as his body
slid deeper into me. Stretched me. Filled me.
In places I never knew existed.
The tissues that tore. The walls that were toppled. The depths that were unlocked.
“Ohhhh…shit!”
“Brooke.
Astremé
. Breathe.” They were commands but somehow pleas as well. The anomaly continued in
his kiss, a mix of gentleness and violence that made my head spin, my body soften.
The moment it did, he slid deeper in.
I screamed into his mouth.
He took it, and kept kissing me back.
“Perfect,” he finally praised. “You are so fucking perfect.”
He penetrated me more.
But now…did more.
New sensations began to hit. The girth of his cock stimulated my entrance in ways
I’d never known…tingled through my sex as I’d never experienced…zapping the very depths
of my clit. As he surged in farther, my body clenched and pulsed, compelling me to
thrust upward, fully meeting every one of his rolling, pounding lunges.
I wrapped a leg around his waist. The other. Gripped his neck, needing to watch as
his dark desire took over. Needing to see him succumb to it, shuddering harder against
me, fucking deeper into me.
Deeper
…
Yes, it still hurt—but the pain also brought waves of profound pleasure. They flooded
my body, hijacked my mind. I let Samsyn see all of it, too. Let him behold every drop
of new awareness he gave me…the complete awe he inspired. His body took my breath
away. His lust made my belly giddy. And all of his dark, prowling lust made me feel
like a she-cat hunted by her mate…the only creature who could slake his hot, pounding
desires.
His darkness…
Making everything so much better.
His jaw clenched to the texture of granite. He raked both hands up my thighs, curled
them beneath my ass, and gripped the cheeks hard. “Let me
in
, Brooke.”
I frowned. But wasn’t he already—
“Oh my
God
!”
He wasn’t. But with his harder hold on my backside, he spread my thighs wider—
Then drove his shaft all the way in.
“Shit!” I screamed.
“
Shit
,” Syn snarled. Held himself there, consuming my channel with his cock for long, pulsing
moments. I battled to remember his coaching and breathe through the tension. Knew
I needed to relax and let my body expand for him. But I didn’t feel expanded. I felt—
“Tight.” His rasp turned my torment into his prayer—of gratitude. “So tight. So good.”
It warmed through my hair as he drew back from my tunnel, hovered for a moment, then
plunged back in with a jagged growl. I could do nothing but accept it. My legs were
helpless in his hold. My body was pinned beneath his. I fought to summon rage about
it, but couldn’t. I’d wanted this. Still wanted it. Had yearned for so long to know
the full force of Samsyn’s lust, be the complete object of his warrior’s passion,
take the full brunt of passion from his burnished, perfect body.
Wishes granted
. He took me, hard and heavily. Fucked me with driving, amazing force. Nothing about
his desire was negotiable, injected into my bloodstream through his consuming kisses,
fused to my desire with every hard, full punch of his cock.
He was so damn beautiful.
He spread a wide smile, making me realize I’d voiced that aloud. “I am only beautiful
because of what I reflect back at you.” He ducked in, capturing my mouth beneath his,
twisting my tongue along his. When done, he only lifted an inch away. He stayed there,
consuming my personal space, letting me smell the arousal on his skin, view the desire
in his eyes.
“Samsyn,” I whispered. “Oh…Samsyn.” Suddenly, the dreamy lilt in my voice changed.
Pitched upward…into a tantalized sigh. “S-Samsyn?”
His expression changed, too. There’d been a wicked method to his madness of the fresh
position. As our bodies collided, his groin now stimulated my spread pussy—directly.
The tender tissues responded at once, nearly crossing my eyes with arousal. My jaw
dropped open—on a startled scream.
“Samsyn!”
His gaze gleamed with satisfaction. “Is
that
what you need too, my starlight?”
Underestimation of the whole freaking year. I trembled. Throbbed. Waited.
Wanted
. Was like a bird riding a Scirocco gust, unsure whether I’d fly or fall, and he was
the damn pressure front, controlling it all with every incredible roll of his hips.
Up. Down. Higher. Lower.
Higher
…
Ohhhh yes…higher
.
“Don’t…stop.”
Why did the man answer my gasp with a chuckle? I was serious, dammit!
“I have no intention of going anywhere,
astremé
.”
Better. He was almost forgiven for the chuckle.
He was
really
forgiven, as soon as he swung one leg out in order to brace a foot to the floor.
The extra traction enabled him to shuttle deeper into me…hitting more and more of
my swollen, throbbing clit…all but screaming for its ultimate release…
“Samsyn!”
“Starlight.” His body reflected the strain in his voice, muscles twisting against
each other. He was stark and sweaty and perfect. “Fuck.” His head fell. His cock swelled
against my walls. “
Fuck
, this is good.”
Another understatement. By miles. This wasn’t “good”. This was magic. Spontaneous
lightning. Gravity reversed. Energy turned to connection. Two bodies as one. Two hearts
beating the same.
I dropped my hand to the center of his chest, over the thunder proving my point. That
brought his head back up. Our gazes twisted…and fused.
“Don’t be gentle.”
Twin furrows dug in between his brows. “You are so small. I do not want to hurt—”
“Dammit, Syn.” I slid my other hand to his taut ass, scoring him as deeply as I could.
“Hurt me!” Wet heat sprang behind my eyes. “Make me…remember you.”
Another barrier in him fell. I watched the animal in him prowl right over it, crushing
the last tether on his passion. Finally, a response growled from him.
“Yes.”
Yes.
It echoed from deep inside, though I couldn’t form any words past the shriek he tore
free. Then the next. Then the moans, harsh and guttural, as he plunged his body into
mine, from head to root on every thrust, claiming my passage with his ruthless force—and
taking me with him. Higher…higher. Hotter…hotter. My thighs quivered and clenched.
My clit bloomed and begged. My mind swirled and soared.
So close…
I knew what an orgasm was, of course. I didn’t have cute toys like the other girls,
but my imagination was keen and my fingers were strong. But no climax I’d ever given
myself was like this, amped by the nerves up and down my tunnel, lighting me up from
the inside out. With every lunge of Syn’s sex, they flared brighter,
brighter
—until the circuits were blown apart.
I ignited.
Then shattered.
“Samsyn! Yes!”
He pummeled harder, bringing wave after wave of pleasure, until I wasn’t conscious
of the room, the moon, the windows, my mind. Everything was the pulse of my pussy,
the heat of his cock…and the burst, even hotter, that erupted from him. He roared
with the force of it, primal and pure in his tragedy, ecstasy, completion.