Fairyville (Fairyville #1)(35)
Author: Emma Holly

"Shh," he whispered around her nipple. "Let’s try a soft cl**ax first."

He moved his finger inside her, searching blindly for the places where her energy burned strongest. Those would be nerve centers. He could feed his aura into them until the pleasure that sang through her swelled to a symphony.

She squirmed as he found the first bright spot, a sound of yearning breaking in her throat. Her nails dug into his back in a sort of panic. She probably wanted him to massage her clit, but he resisted the obvious. His intent wasn’t to tease her, only to ease her into what he hoped would be a long, hot night of cl**axes. With that in mind, he pressed a second finger inside her. The fit was snug enough to make him grit his teeth. God, what she’d feel like around him, creaming and twitching like she was now! Encouraged by her responsiveness, he sent a tendril of energy to connect what his mouth was doing at her breast to what his hand was doing in her pu**y.

He knew the moment the circuit closed, because Zoe groaned and twisted her h*ps like she meant to screw his fingers right off his hand.

Yes, he thought, and as easy as that her orgasm broke.

She went for a good half minute, gasping for air as he coaxed her pleasure out and out. Her clear surprise at how strong the cl**ax was delighted him. He smiled against her flushing breast, stroking her through her shudders, optimism spreading through him like sunshine. He could do this. They could do this. It was going to be all right. As her body calmed, he released her breast to whisper in her ear.

"How about another, love? I believe you mentioned you’ve got some lost time to make up for."

Lost time didn’t begin to cover what Zoe had to make up for. She’d managed not to scream so far, but it had been close. She shook with pleasure, great, earth-shaking quakes as Magnus brought her to one aching peak after another. After so many orgasms, her need should have been exhausted, but it only built. Magnus’s touch was magic: sweet and slow and unbelievably intense. He paid attention to everything, learning what she liked with a swiftness that was frightening. She was panting too hard to kiss him except in glances, but every part of him tasted good.

He jerked when she nipped the muscle of his bicep, and she knew she simply had to get him under her.

"It’s time to finish this," she said, trying to push his big, beautiful body back onto the sheets. "I think I’ve still got a box of condoms in the bedside drawer."

He caught her wrist before she could check. "Touch me while I’m bare. I want your hand on my skin."

The plea halted her. Through all their play, he’d evaded her touches there, pleasuring her but taking little in return. She’d thought it might be because he had a quick trigger, but perhaps he simply liked to draw his lovemaking out. Perhaps restraining his own release was the secret to his sexual feats.

"Just my hand?" she asked slyly.

He leaned back cautiously, his shaggy, glossy hair spilling onto her pillow in an arc of black. His long, tanned fingers slid up her arms. "Your hand is fine to start with. After that I’d like to run my c**k all over your creamy skin."

She couldn’t contain her anticipatory shudder. "Don’t you ever want to come?"

His eyes darkened. "Oh, yes, but only after I’ve pulled every scrap of ecstasy out of you."

Magnus thought he could control himself. His land were nothing if not sexually determined, and he’d had centuries of practice. Despite his lengthy experience, when her warm little hand wrapped his straining thickness and began to pull, he wished he’d let her cover him in the rubber.

It wouldn’t have kept his magical contract from activating; all that required was releasing a burst of orgasmic energy inside her sex. The latex would, however, have prevented him from feeling every whorl of every fingerprint drag along his nerves. All fairies were susceptible to skin hunger, and Magnus had reached the state of arousal where the flutter of an eyelash was as potent as a sucking tongue. When Zoe gentled the palm of her hand around his testicles, he actually hallucinated, actually saw himself pushing her thighs apart and spearing her.

The vision was so vivid he could feel the Will-Be shivering. The dream would become reality if he didn’t distract himself. The Will-Be would make him a puppet to his own desires.

"You’re so big," she murmured as he jerked beneath her careful strokes, her thumb tracing the route of a thickened vein. "I know it sounds cliche, but I honestly don’t know how you’re going to fit."

Cliche or not, the words were sufficient to give him another technicolor flash of taking her. He could hear the sounds she would make, could feel the press of her heels behind his bu**ocks as she’d struggle to pull him in. He tried to push the image away, but she was bending toward him in truth, was softly pressing her lips to his weeping tip. Her mouth formed a circle around his rim, beginning to draw, beginning to create suction against the very nerves that could least stand it.

"Stop," he croaked as her tongue came out.

"Magnus?" she said, her voice very strange.

He’d blacked out for a second. He had to shake his head back into reality. When he returned, he felt as shocked as she looked. His hand was on her throat. It only held her off from going down on him, but it was in the same position as if he’d meant to strangle her.

"Sorry," he said, panting it. His c**k was pulsing like a rabid animal inside her hand, his vision of taking her threatening to rise again. "Sorry." He forced his fingers to release her. "I wanted to be inside you, and I… Do you have any lubricant in that drawer?"

She stared at him, maybe sensing his evasion, maybe just amazed by his behavior. Her gaze was steady but wide. She should have been frightened, but he didn’t think she was. She was breathing raggedly, shallow puffs of air that made her little br**sts tremble. Her pupils were swollen, her cheeks stained red.

She looked like what he’d accidentally done had excited her.

If it had, she wasn’t ready to discuss it. He wasn’t either. Fairy males were naturally controlling. The idea that Zoe might enjoy letting him take charge of her in bed wasn’t one he could afford to contemplate just then.

"Lubricant… sounds smart," she said breathlessly. "As big as you are, you might need a little help."

As wet as she was, he doubted it, but he wasn’t intending to get inside her the way she thought.

"Give it to me," he said when she found it. "And please—" He swallowed, meaning the please to soften the harshness of his request. "Please turn onto your stomach and wait for me."

She didn’t argue. She turned and stretched her arms upward, wrapping her hands around the wrought iron vines and leaves that formed her headboard. The design reminded him of a garden his Aunt Elena had once spelled together for an orgy. Seeing Zoe lock her hands to the cold metal, playing submissive nymph to his satyr, had his c**k jerking. Her curls were the ultimate in femininity as they spilled down her slender back, the image triggering reactions he could not control. His breath came faster as she turned her head over her shoulder and gazed at him knowingly.