His lips blaze a trail lower on my chest, to where my godkiss birthmark rides on my breastbone. His hands find the blanket’s edges, coaxing me to release my tight hold on it.
My arms lock, a last attempt to hold the blanket around me. My final wall. But he gently eases my arms away from my chest, guiding them to lay flat at my sides. He unfolds the blanket one side at a time, slowly exposing my bare, full breasts.
He takes a moment to appreciate the sight. His hand cups the heft of my left breast, squeezing and fondling softly. His fingers deftly roll the nipple until it hardens like a pebble. My head tips back on the blanket. His touch feels like magic. I want it everywhere.
Without warning, he takes my nipple into his mouth. A gasp springs to my lips as I arch my back, thrusting the nipple further between his lips. He claims it, sucks it, then gently bites down.
I cry out. “Basten!”
“That’s it, little violet. Tell me what you like.”
It’s getting hard to think. I’m trying to remember what came next at the inn. What hot, filthy promise did he moan against my skin? All I can concentrate on is the growing spark catching fire in my lower half.
He releases my nipple to plant hot kisses along the contours of my stomach. A freckle on my ribs. One near my navel. Another on the curve of my right hip. As his lips move lower, he peels back the blanket, opening me up to the waterfall’s cool mist, the fire’s hot blaze, and his own covetous look, until I’m entirely nude.
This is as far as our game of pretend went at the inn, but now, it feels like only the beginning. I gaze up at him, gently biting my bottom lip. “And now what?”
“This.”
His hand cups the wet heat between my legs. I swallow a moan, my hips bucking against the weight of his palm. He presses the rough base of his hand against the tight knot at the top of my groin, then slowly sinks one finger into my core. He stops at the first knuckle, stroking me shallowly and slowly.
I moan, bucking my hips to try to force his finger deeper. “More.”
He chuckles as he presses his finger further into my heat, stroking faster. Then he adds a second finger. The hard base of his palm continues to rub me from the outside.
I whimper, hardly knowing what I’m experiencing. I didn’t know it was possible to feel like this. That with just one hand, Basten could make me feel like I’m soaring. His fingers stroke in a steady move that has me rolling my hips up to meet their rhythm.
“That’s it. Ride my hand. You’re doing so good. I can smell your slickness. Can you hear it? I can. It sounds like snowmelt dripping from rocks.”
I should be embarrassed, but it only lights me up more to think of how his godkiss perceives my response to him. I can’t hide anything from him—we have no secrets.
A pressure I can’t put a name to builds between my legs. I can’t focus on anything but riding out the sensation, seeing where it will take me. But all too soon, Basten pulls his fingers out.
I moan an objection, pushing myself up to my elbows.
He chuckles again as he licks my glistening juices off his fingers. “Gods, your taste,” he moans, lapping at his fingers.
The move steals whatever I was going to say right out of my mouth, and I gape. “What are you doing?” This is all new. It’s terrifying. It’s exhilarating. The waterfall roars steadily, dulling my thoughts.
“That’s only the start,” he says. “I warned you what would happen.”
“What—what else are you going to do?”
“Lay down. Like this.” He presses my back to the blanket, then bends my knees to point toward the cave’s roof. My thighs squeeze together instinctively, but he grabs each knee and gently pushes them apart.
My pussy is spread for him like a banquet. Heat reddens my cheeks, but he doesn’t look embarrassed. Far from it. He looks primed to gorge. He brushes his thumb over the sensitive outer edges of my core like pressing into a ripe peach.
“I’ve lied awake so many nights thinking about having your cunt quiver beneath my mouth.”
My eyes stretch wide. “Wait, your mouth?”
He’s already got his face between my legs, his arms prying my legs apart against their instinct to clench together. He licks the outer edges of my cunt, sending lightning bolts shooting into my belly. His tongue slides around my slick heat, stroking like he did with his fingers, but this is another level. His mouth is so warm, the things he does with his tongue so confident. So ravenous. In seconds, the building pressure feels like it’s about to explode.
“That’s it,” he whispers against my body. “You’re doing so well. Moan for me. Moan where it feels good. There? You like that?”
He seals his lips over the tight bud at the top of my cunt and gently sucks.
And some deep, dark part of me goes wild. My entire body seizes up like a fist, trembling and pulsing, and then all at once, the hold shatters. Lightning crashes between my legs, and a tingling rumble of thunder rolls through my muscles. It’s ecstasy. It’s pain. It’s heaven. It’s sinful. It’s frightening and new, and I already know that I’m going to need to feel this again and again.
While my body is still shaking from the aftershocks, Basten sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I try not to think about his godkiss. How intensely he must perceive my scent, my taste. His eyes are heavy as he gazes down at my quivering body, and there’s an edge of darkness there. The hint of violence I know he craves because it’s all he’s known. But he promised he’d go slowly for my first time, and his hands are tender as he wrenches my legs back apart, staring down at my cunt.
“You’re slick as melting ice. Are you ready for me? Do you want me? Say it.” His fingers tease the poor, oversensitive bud that’s still throbbing from what he’s already done to it.
“I want you,” I breathe.
He removes the towel around his waist. His cock is thick, heavy. Enormous. It juts out with a readiness that makes my inhale stall in my throat. That is supposed to fit inside me? Fuck the gods. He’s going to split me apart with that massive tool.
“Go ahead,” he commands. “Touch it. Take me in your hand.”
I hesitate. My trembling fingers graze the smooth tip, where a pearlescent drop glistens. His cock is smoother than I expected. It strains into my palm with throbbing urgency.
He briefly closes his eyes, and I realize how much my touch pleases him. It gives me a strange feeling of power to know I can put that look on his face.
“Kiss it,” he barks.
Is he serious? These are the things described in Immortal Alyssantha’s chapters, things I wasn’t sure anyone but the debauched fae gods did. But one look at Basten’s hooded eyelids confirms it: Oh, yes. He’s deadly serious.
With shaking lips, I gently kiss his cock’s tip. It tastes salty, not as bad as I’d feared.
He groans as he pushes me down to the blanket again, leans over me, then wraps his hand around his cock to line it up with my entrance.