Enslaved: Eternal Guardians series

Relief rippled through every cell in her body. Her chest rose and fell with her labored breaths as he ran his palm down her right buttock. As he trailed the fingers of his other hand across her lower back. As he hooked his fingers in the sides of her thong and slowly pulled it down.

 

This close he could smell her—jasmine and need and hunger. And all of it—the way she felt, the scent of her arousal, the things she’d said—it all coalesced to leave him light-headed.

 

She loved him. No one had ever loved him. After the Underworld, he didn’t think anyone ever could.

 

His heart—a heart she had reawakened—filled as he brushed his fingers against her inner thigh. As she trembled all over again. “Put your knee on the couch. And lean forward.”

 

She hesitated the briefest of seconds, then stepped out of her panties, braced one knee on the couch, and rested her elbows on the arm of the sofa. He pressed against her other leg, telling her without words to widen her stance. And as she slowly opened herself to him, his heart pounded hard against his ribs.

 

She trusted him. Not just with her heart, but with her body too. The impact of that nearly stole his breath.

 

“You are gorgeous,” he whispered.

 

She shuddered. And before she could turn and look at him, he leaned forward and ran his tongue over her clit. She sucked in a breath. He slid between her folds, then finally found the opening of her sex and tasted all of her.

 

She groaned, dropped her head against the armrest. Gods, he loved the sounds she made. Loved the way she tasted. He slid his tongue back down to her swollen clit, circled the tight knot, flicked it again and again, delighted in the way she moved against him. Sweat broke out on his skin as he listened to her moan, as she pushed back against him. He wanted to slide inside her, to take what she was so obviously offering, but this wasn’t about him. This was about her. About showing her how much what she’d said meant to him.

 

How much she meant to him.

 

She dug her fingers into the fabric of the couch. “Gryphon, I—”

 

She gasped again, then moaned when his finger slid down her backside and finally into her sex.

 

“Oh, gods.” She tightened around him.

 

He pushed deep, drew back out, thrust in again. She was so wet. Wet and hot and perfect. She moved against him while he pumped into her sex, while he licked her. Tried to force him deeper. Tried to urge him faster.

 

He knew she was close. Needed to make her go over. Wanted to taste her release. He closed his lips over her clit and suckled. And was rewarded with a tremor that shook her whole body.

 

“Gryphon,” she gasped. Her arm gave out and her face hit the sofa as her orgasm consumed her. She tightened around his fingers, and his dick twitched in response, as if the same electrical shots rushing through her body were exploding in his.

 

He’d never known giving pleasure could be enjoyable until her. Hadn’t realized what he was missing in life these last few months. Not just sex in general but…love. Her love, her trust, her faith in him…together it sealed the hole in his chest he’d been living with since the Underworld. It brought back the man he once was.

 

No, that wasn’t right. It made him into the man he’d always wanted to be.

 

He continued to tease her, continued to caress from the inside, slower with each stroke until the aftershocks left her body. Then he squeezed her right cheek and pressed a gentle kiss to her left.

 

She breathed deep, seemed to have trouble focusing. As she blinked several times and stared into the flames dancing in the fireplace, a thrill rushed through him at the knowledge he’d done that to her. He’d left her breathless and foggy. As breathless and foggy as he’d been since the first moment he touched her.

 

She turned quickly, found her footing, gripped his shoulders, and pulled him to his feet.

 

“Maelea—”

 

Then she closed her lips over his, licked into his mouth, ripped open his jeans, and pushed them down his hips.

 

Desire rushed through his body, so much more insistent than ever before. He groaned, pulled her close.

 

She tore her mouth from his. “Sit.”

 

The cushions dipped under his weight as she pushed him down. She immediately dropped to her knees, tugged the jeans the rest of the way down his legs, and dropped them on the floor. She stripped him of his shirt, and when she had him naked, when he was so hard he hurt, she finally bent and took him into her mouth.

 

Ah, gods. He dropped his head back against the couch. Threaded the fingers of one hand into her hair as her lips closed around his shaft and her tongue ran along the underside his cock. After a week alone together, she knew exactly what he liked. Which strokes made him shiver. How much suction could leave him weak. Just how deep he liked to press into her mouth.