By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(56)

I reluctantly broke our kiss and slid slowly down his body. Since I couldn’t remove the collar to reach the rest of his neck, I focused my attention on his tattooed shoulders, tracing the ink with my tongue. I rumbled as I outlined each one, enjoying the strong interlacing patterns, almost knot-like in their design. They fit him.

I continued to stretch him gradually, a third finger joining the other two. He rocked gently on my hand as I prepared him, moaning each time I brushed his pleasure spot. He might not need it, but I wanted him to know I’d take the time, that he was worth it.

Kissing down his torso, I ran my tongue over his well-defined abs, then followed up by tracing the curve of his hipbone. I ignored where he most wanted my mouth and continued to run my tongue down his thigh to his knee. He groaned. Impressed he managed to stay still. I’d have to try harder. Moving back up his thigh I slid my tongue in the crease where hip met pelvis. He chuckled.

“Come on. Now you’re just being mean.”

I smiled against his skin, ignoring his words, reveling in a leisurely exploration. I wanted to memorize every touch, every taste. After I finally took my fill of teasing him and he was squirming under me, I nuzzled his balls, my breath hot against his skin. His hands vibrated where they held the sheets.

I paused my explorations, watching until his fingers loosened on the sheet and his body began to relax. Then I lunged forward and swallowed his dick. He shouted, his back arching and hands going to my hair in a death grip. I would have laughed, but considering my mouth was quite full, I concentrated on applying just the right amount of suction as I moved up and down his length. I loved hearing him pant like he was the one choking on cock instead of me.

His thighs began to shake and if possible, he hardened even more in my mouth. I gripped his base, squeezed, while pulling off him. He mewled and called me some very inventive names. I’d have to remember a few.

“Dammit, Twig. Are you ever going to fuck me?”

“So impatient.” But I was also done waiting. Moving into place, I added some oil to my length and pushed inside him. His body was ready. Even so, I wasn’t what one would call small, so I was careful not to move too fast. No easy feat since both Quinn and my dragon urged me to greater speed.

When I finally sank to the hilt, both Quinn and I groaned. So hot, so perfect. I rested our foreheads together, giving him a chance to adjust. I hadn’t even started moving yet and I was ready to blow. I forced myself to think about unpleasant things—like the Alphae’s list of membership principles and some of the legislation on running a business that I’d become familiar with when opening my detective agency. Worked better than a charm.

“Move,” Quinn hissed. His hand came down sharply on my backside and my dragon surged to the surface, my fangs dropping through my gum line. Before I could pull back, I was pounding him into the mattress. I tried to wrest back control from my beast, but it felt too amazing and the noises Quinn made didn’t help. He wrapped his arms and legs around me and held on.

My aggression increased as I found his pleasure spot, pegging it with each stroke. His nails raked down my back and I roared, loving every second of giving my mate pleasure. And I needed to face facts; he was my mate. I’d been fooling myself to think otherwise, or that Brandsome had anything to do with this gut-deep connection.

As I fucked him in long, hard strokes, my eyes wandered to the junction where his shoulder met his throat and I couldn’t look away. One simple bite and he’d be mine. Centuries with him didn’t even seem enough. As I bent toward his neck, he gripped my hair tight and yanked me away and into a blistering kiss, his tongue shoving to the back of my throat like he’d consume me if he could.

Our tongues dueled, a give and take, with no prisoners. When we finally broke apart to breathe, my lips automatically began moving down toward his neck, every instinct driving me to mate him. I didn’t have the will to resist any longer.

A gentle palm against my cheek stopped me. Our eyes met. His showed both desire, but also worry. It came through our link as well. He was scared. He tipped his neck so I could finish the mating bond. His distress increased and I saw the pounding of his pulse at the base of his throat and felt the slight tremor of his body.

Something wasn’t right. He seemed to be fighting himself, waging some kind of internal battle.

Though my dragon grumbled, I forced myself back toward his lips, giving him a gentle kiss. Surprise showed in every line of his face. He went to tip his chin up again, but I captured his mouth, soothing him more than inciting.

Instead of mating him, I concentrated on how amazing our sweat-slick bodies fit together with each movement; how tight he gripped my length as I kept a punishing pace; how his eyes rolled back in his head each time I hit just the right spot.

I lowered myself over him, so that his cock was caught between our bodies, the friction of our sweat-slicked abs making him moan my name.

“Twig, I’m gonna . . . oh fuuuckk.” Quinn tightened his grip on me and convulsed as his cock shot a thin trail of cum onto our stomachs and chests. His words, and the fact he was practically strangling my dick, sent me over the edge a moment after him. Fire raced down my spine, pooled in my balls. No holding back now. I unloaded inside his ass, my vision whiting out, my limbs shaking with the effort to keep my weight from crushing him. I roared in triumph as I painted his insides. Mine, mine, mine, I chanted. His, his, his, whispered my dragon.

When I collapsed after I’d been wrung dry, I rolled him on top so he could breathe. Neither of us spoke, and I could practically hear his heartbeat sync with mine. After a moment, I captured his hand and brought it to my lips.