Pia Does Hollywood (Elder Races, #8.6)

Because he did, he loved her. He didn’t love often, or very many people, and he was content to have it that way, but she consumed his life. She burned him up, until there was nothing left but his essence, taken out of his massive body and flying weightless again in the endless, unmeasured spill of profligate golden sunlight, just as he had once flown in the earliest days of his very long life.

Their lack of time lent urgency to their actions. She pumped his cock once, twice, three times, spiking sensation along his nerve endings until he could have spilled right then and there into her welcoming hands, but he didn’t want to climax that way. He wanted to bury himself into her velvety soft, tight sheath.

As he yanked her soft sweater up, she obligingly raised her arms. Shimmering pale blonde hair tumbled over her laughing, sensual expression. He tossed the sweater to the floor and greedily filled his palms with her round, soft breasts, framed prettily by a cream lacy bra. Bending his head, he licked and bit lightly at the luscious swell of flesh. When he put his mouth over one nipple and sucked at her teasingly, through the material of the bra, she moaned and hooked her legs around his waist, trying to pull him close.

It was impossible—he couldn’t suckle at her breasts and still come up to nestle against her pelvis. After a last hard pull and nip at her breast, he gave up, straightened and put an arm around her hips to pull her to the edge of the desk.

As she wriggled eagerly into position, he put a hand between her legs, fingering her soft, delicate folds. She was wet for him, but he already knew that from the arousal in her scent. Relishing the liquid glide of velvet flesh against his callused fingertips, he probed until he found the tight, stiff little pearl he was looking for.

She sucked in an unsteady breath as he caressed her, tightening her fists in the material of his shirt. He could feel the muscles in her inner thighs shaking against his hips. For a few moments, she thrust her pelvis against his hand, mimicking the rhythm they found when they were joined together, until his blood caught the rhythm, pulsing urgently through his veins.

Then she pushed his hand away, hissing, “Stop being so damn considerate and get inside me already, will you?”

Laughter welled up. Gods, he loved how frankly sensual she was with him, and her unabashed enthusiasm for sex.

She took hold of his cock again, rubbing her thumb along the broad sensitive head until moisture came out of the tip. Then she positioned him at her entrance, and gripping her hips, he pushed inside.

It never got old, never. Each time, he caught fire like it was the first time. When he planted himself deep inside her, she let her head fall back. Her gaze was unfocused, and her breathing came in short, quick pants.

Bending over her arched torso, one arm wrapped around her hips, he fucked her in short, hard jabs. The friction was excruciating, delicious. She was delicious. He bit at her neck, sucking at the delicate skin.

She raked her fingernails down his back, leaving trails of fire. Relishing the small pain, he growled and accelerated his pace. His erection felt huge, impossibly hard and thick. If he didn’t spill soon, he was going to go crazy.

Slipping a hand between their torsos, he searched for her clitoris again—and as he connected with the tiny peak of flesh, she sucked in a breath, whined and climaxed. The ripples took her over. He could feel her pulsing around him, and that sent him over the edge.

Groaning, he pumped into her, jetting with each thrust. She bit and licked at him, until he lifted his head to take her mouth with his. They fused together, kissing wildly, muscles clenched as the last of the pleasure spiked and then eased on a slow ebb.

When it had passed, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He hugged her tightly, and they rested against each other for a moment until he felt her racing heart begin to slow.

“Okay,” he said, as he rested his mouth in her tousled hair. “Now you can go.”

Bursting out laughing, she smacked his arm. “After you completely destroy me, mess up all my clothes and tangle my hair, you’re going to boot me out?”

He grinned. “Well, I lost track, but I suspect our ten minutes might be up.”

“Ugh, men!” Her hold on his neck loosened, and her thighs eased away from his hips.

Before he let her go, he had to take her chin and tilt her face up for one last hot kiss. Damn, he hated to let her go. “All right,” he said reluctantly against her soft lips. “The half bath is right across the hall, and nobody’s in the front of the house—you make a run for it while I straighten up your clothes. I’ll bring them to you.”

“Okay,” she whispered. She stroked his face. In the shadowed room, her eyes looked dark as midnight and impossibly deep. She smiled at him. “I love you.”

He kissed her again, hard. “Love you too. Get going, before I change my mind and keep you here.”

She lingered to search his face. “You wouldn’t.”

“Damn straight, I would.”

“But all the demesne leaders, and the human administration, agreed on this.”

“Fuck them. Fuck the agreement.” He angled out his jaw. “Nobody tells me what to do, or where to send my family.”

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