“So pink. So wet. My jewel.” He moaned and then he did the most shocking, amazing, wonderful thing.
His mouth replaced his hand and she shook so hard the tree branch groaned. Crying out, she jumped back. Everything inside her rioted—her nerves, her breaths, her ability to reason.
“Do not move,” he growled in that throaty whisper of his, and then his hands clamped onto her thighs and she wanted to die the moment his tongue stroked her there.
“Rumpel,” she moaned. “I want to touch you.”
“Not yet.” He feasted on her, sucking and laving, and her head swam.
The dark world spun out of control.
“Rumpel,” she cried out, half in fear, half in pleasure.
“Trust me, Carrot, and let go. When it feels right, let go.”
She felt like she might internally combust, might explode from the inside out. She felt heavy and light at once, both tethered to the ground and free as a bird.
His fingers played expertly upon her thighs and calves, massaging her, and all she could do was twist upon his mouth, and when she came it was like a supernova blast of energy. Lights danced behind her eyes from squeezing them so hard, and the only word she could say was his name.
He didn’t stop until she fell limp against him.
“Now let go of the branch.”
The moment she did, he pulled her tight to his chest and gradually laid them upon the ground. Patting her hair, he whispered sweet nonsense into her ear and she was sure she’d never return from the mindless pleasure.
“Are you back yet, siren?” He chuckled, and she swatted his chest.
“What did you do to me? I swear you sucked the very soul from my body.”
Placing a tender kiss upon her mouth, he nuzzled her cheek, and she still tasted herself on him. It was odd, but not altogether unpleasant.
“Do you want to know me too, love?” His finger toyed with a curl of her hair, he twirled it about her nipple and she nodded.
“Yes. I do.”
He inhaled. “Would you like to touch me as I touched you?”
She knew something of what a male member looked like. There were farms aplenty in her quiet hamlet, and it was easy enough to catch a glimpse of animals doing what they do. The thought of allowing Rumpel to shove something as large as a horse’s part into her mouth made her incredibly nervous.
“Will it hurt?” she whispered, fisting his shirt.
Stroking her cheek, he said, “I will not force anything upon you. If you do not like it, then we stop. Do we have a deal?”
She smiled. “Will I need to seal it in blood?”
His laughter filled her with joy. Whenever he was like this, Rumpel wasn’t the haughty male, he was warm and friendly, and she liked this side of him. Very, very much.
“For you, I forgo my usual payment.”
“Oh, how kind, dark prince.” She patted her chest.
He rolled out from under her, and then she heard the shuffle and movement of clothes peeling off. When he rejoined her a minute later, there was only skin pressed to skin.
Sucking in a breath, she traced her fingers over him, letting her palm slowly scrape along the length of him, learning him by touch alone. His breathing was sharp and heavy, but he did not stop her as she glided along the ridged cords of muscle, dipped her finger into his belly button, and finally smoothed her palm over the coarse hairs of his thighs.
Sitting up to a kneeling position, she nibbled on her lip and he moaned.
“Gods, I could come just from looking at you this way.”
Smiling, licking her lips, she continued her sensual exploration and stilled when she encountered the long thickness of him.
“Rumpel?” She wasn’t sure why she’d said his name. Maybe she was asking for help, for guidance, or maybe she just needed to say it.
“Take my cock and stroke me.” He grabbed her hand in his and guided her to the length of him.
She shivered as he glided their twined fingers up and down; he was veiny and yet impossibly smooth, especially at the tip. “It feels like velvet.”
He moaned, and his leg twitched against her buttocks. “Harder,” he grunted.
When she squeezed, he loosened her grip just a little.
“Gentle but hard, love. Like this.” And he proceeded to show her how to move, not too hard, but not too soft either.
She smiled, wondering if he realized that just as he had the other night, he’d called her love. She was sure it was just a meaningless phrase, especially while in the middle of the coital act, but it warmed her just the same.
Harder they pumped, and then he released his hand. “Just you. Yes.” He sighed when she gave him a firm squeeze down at the base. “Gods, yes.”
He was lost in her, she knew it. Felt it in the way he quaked, how he moaned, and the desire to feel him on her tongue as he’d felt her consumed Shayera.
Wiggling back just an inch, she released him and bent over.