Home > Pleasure of a Dark Prince (Immortals After Dark #9)(62)

Pleasure of a Dark Prince (Immortals After Dark #9)(62)
Author: Kresley Cole

His gaze held hers as he rasped, "Goin' tae press... my finger into you." He began easing it between her folds. At first, she tensed, but as he went deeper, inch by inch, her lids grew heavy.

He gave a sharp groan. "First time I've felt you inside." So tight. So hot. He stirred that finger, building more wetness. Then he withdrew, but only to return with two fingers, stretching her sheath as her head fell back and she helplessly moaned.

"You like that, mate." He began thrusting them inside her.

"Yes!"

He clutched her body to his own, and with each plunge of his fingers, he ground his shaft against her hip.

"Don't stop, MacRieve...."

He feared he'd come like this, ejaculating against her. And though everything inside him was screaming to pleasure her, he didn't want her to come either, sensed he needed her crazed like this or she'd change her mind. When she cried out that she was so close, he released her, slipping his fingers free of her sex.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she asked, sounding dazed. "Why did you stop?"

"Turn around," he commanded, positioning her body toward the vine-covered rock. With his palm flat across her back, he bent her over it, pressing her face against the leaves.

Movement behind her. The sound of MacRieve's clothes torn off.

Once Lucia knew he was naked, her body tensed in anticipation even as her flesh quivered for the orgasm he'd denied her. "Please..." Panting, wanting, aching.

He answered by running the head of his penis up and down her sex.

"Ah, yes!"

Kicking her legs wide, he lifted one of her knees up to the rock, spreading her. She was as open for him as she could be, vulnerable, and he was about to shove that shaft into her....

She had a moment of sanity. Her desire-drenched mind again tried to call up -

His big palm squeezed her ass, giving her a loud slap as he grunted with approval. In turn, she moaned, arching her back down, opening herself even more to him.

Then she felt... his mouth. He'd knelt and was madly licking between her thighs.

"MacRieve!" she gasped, her eyes sliding closed with pleasure as he tongued her flesh. When he eased those fingers back into her sheath at the same time, she moaned to be filled, still so unused to the feeling. For so long, she'd craved this, had begged him for it.

With one hand, his fingers thrust, and with his other, he parted her for his feasting mouth. "MacRieve, ah, gods!" There was no fighting this - she grew closer and closer, tension building.

Right when she was at the razor's edge, when she'd drawn a breath to scream, he... stopped, drawing away.

"Nooo! I can't take much more of this." She gazed back as he stood. He was losing control, more completely turned than she'd ever seen him, and gripping his engorged shaft to take her. So why did she have the urge to raise her hips, rolling them to signal her need?

Yet he seemed to change his mind, positioning her again. He lifted her, turning her to face him, then pressed her back onto the rock. She realized why and felt a pang - he didn't want to take her from behind their first time. For herself, she was still desperate for any touch. He'd made her frantic to come.

After lifting her bodily in place, he climbed up for her. He's rising over me. She swallowed, fighting her burgeoning disquiet. Just before he lowered his hips between her thighs, his erection hung down, huge, angry. He could hurt her - rip her in two. Blood streaming down my thighs...

She tensed with fear, but MacRieve began praising her in Gaelic, with adoration in his pale eyes. He lovingly suckled her ni**les, his palms sweeping over her as if he were worshipping her. Against all odds, he kept her desires simmering.

Too soon, she felt him feeding his shaft into her, the broad crown demanding entrance. Lightning sheared the night above the canopy. This will hurt... this will -

He reached between them and began circling his thumb over her clitoris.

"MacRieve!" She bit her bottom lip and moaned. So far, no pain. It felt... good. His erection was hot and unyielding in her wetness. Felt right.

He slowly flexed his hips, forcing his penis deeper. Tightness, pressure, but still bearable. As long as he kept rubbing. Her eyes closed with bliss. This is why women adore sex. She absently whispered, "I never knew before."

When he wedged it deeper inside her, he threw back his head and roared so hard she could feel the vibrations from his chest.

She'd barely taken a gasping breath when he somehow plunged even farther. Now there was pain. "No!"

He stilled. "No?"

"Just... just go easier."

He let her adjust, seeming to shudder from the effort, his neck and chest muscles corded with strain and slick with sweat. Though his eyes were frenzied, he somehow held his shaft still within her, even as his claws raked down the stone on each side of her body, slicing the vines.

When the leaves fell away, she saw symbols carved on the face of the stone. Symbols? The rock was long, flat, waist high....

Not just a rock. An altar. Lightning exploded.

"No, no!" Tears filled her eyes, then tracked down her cheeks. "I can't...." She struggled, shoving against him. We're on an altar.

Still inside her, MacRieve cupped her face. In that beastly voice, he rasped, "Whatever you fear... whatever you've known... this is different."

She couldn't imagine what this effort was costing him - to defy the Instinct screaming inside him, to patiently speak to her when the beast was ravening within.

"Lousha, we're different together... come back... tae me."

"No, you don't understand!"

He pulled her up to his chest, clutching her against him. "Wanted you for months... been obsessed with you... but now..."

"N-now what?"

At her ear, the beast rumbled, "Now you've taken... the heart from my chest."

At that, she gave a little sob. "MacRieve," she whispered.

He'd brought her back to the present, but she still trembled in his arms - it tore at him, even as he had to clench his jaw, grappling with the drives inside him. He had to ignore how her soft br**sts rubbed his chest, her dusky pink ni**les rigid and damp against him. Her sheath squeezed like a fist, taunting his throbbing c**k to thrust. Gods, he needed to plunge hard into his mate!

But her fear... he could scent it.

"Ride me."

"Wh-what?" She frowned when he gripped the curves of her arse, holding himself within her as he turned to his back.

Once she straddled him, her hands flew to his shoulders, her wee claws digging in, her dark eyes wide with surprise. But when he rubbed the pad of his finger over her clitoris again, her sex clenched around him and she murmured, "That feels so good."

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