A Dawn of Onyx (The Sacred Stones, #1)(94)

“You’re beautiful,” I murmured. I wasn’t even ashamed. It was true.

“You’re one to talk,” he stared at me in reverence before his eyes turned wholly feral. Gripping my ass he hoisted me up, capturing my mouth in a savage kiss, and slamming us into the wall beside the bed, careful to cradle the back of my head in his hand. Immediately I felt his length against my core, hard like solid rock and pressing angrily through his pants. I clawed at his back, his neck, his jaw, fingers roaming with minds of their own.

But still, I needed more.

I wanted to be compressed between his body and the cool wallpaper behind me. Pressed like one of the flowers in my books under his delicious weight. I was needy and aching, grinding myself against him like a cat in heat.

He released my lips and trailed a line of feather-soft kisses down the column of my throat and my fingers tangled in his silky hair, eliciting a pleasant growl from him. The noise made my breasts pinch and ache, and I ground my hips into his impressive length, wrapping my legs around him even tighter. He slipped one strap of my nightdress down and bit at my shoulder.

“More,” I begged.

“Don’t tempt me,” he purred against my collarbone, nibbling and biting until he reached my breast over the silken fabric. He pulled back and traced a reverent finger down the scar on my chest.

“This is healing very quickly.”

“That happens with me sometimes,” I breathed, but Kane was lost in his own thoughts.

“I thought,” his voice cracked, and my heart stumbled over a beat. “I’d lost you. I couldn’t eat. Sleep. Move,” a sad smile tugged at his lips. “Shave.” He considered me with something akin to awe. “I did not want to live in a world without you in it.”

I felt the energy in the room shift at his words. We had danced around the chemistry and emotion between us for so long, that admitting our feelings felt unthinkable. His eyes shone like stars and for a moment all I could hear was our ragged breathing.

But he saved me the words that lodged in my throat by placing a single kiss along my new scar, so carefully I could have cried. His lips traced down my chest, along the silk of nightdress, until his mouth circled my pointed nipple over the silky fabric. His teeth were sharp yet gentle around the sensitive bud, and I mewed out a wild-sounding noise.

“That’s it,” he said, grasping my other breast with his hand and softly massaging it. I tipped my head back, nearly going cross-eyed at the sensation, and bit down on my lip, trying not to make any more silly noises. The throb between my legs was teetering on pain.

He brought my mouth back down to his and carried us to the bed, laying me down and climbing on top of me. He tried to slow our kisses, worship each angle of my jaw, my neck, but I kissed him with a fiercer desire than I had ever felt, needy and wanton and desperate, likely bruising his lips.

Emboldened by my searing want, I looped a leg over his waist and rolled us until I was straddling him. He sighed into my mouth and wrapped two large hands around my waist. He was so big, his thumbs nearly touched under my belly button. One hand came up to cup my breast and rub my nipple lightly, and I whimpered on top of him.

I felt alight like a flickering flame.

“You’re not making it very easy for me to savor you, bird,” he joked, voice husky and eyes wild.

Ignoring him, I trailed light kisses down his naked chest, basking in his salty, sweet skin.

He tasted like pure moonlight—dark and sensual and all too tempting.

When I reached his waistband and my hands grasped for the laces of his pants, Kane groaned. The guttural noise made my thighs clench.

But his hands snapped to mine, stopping them. “Fine. No savoring.”

Before I could argue, he brought me back up to him with a wicked grin, and tucked me into his chest, my back pressed flush against his front. He slid one hand under me, around my stomach, holding me to him. When his other hand slipped beneath the silky fabric and found the soft skin of my breast, we both arched further toward each other.

Kane swore and pressed his mouth to my neck. “You’re even better than I ever could have thought. All those months, thinking I’d never get to be with you—it was the worst torture I could’ve imagined. I want to bury my mouth in between your pretty thighs.”

His words were unraveling me. I was soaking wet and rocking against him rhythmically. I needed his hand lower.

A positively filthy idea crossed my mind.

“You know,” I managed to breathe, “you aren’t the only one with indecent thoughts from that horseback ride together.”

Kane stilled behind me before releasing a shaky exhale. His hand still held my breast under my nightdress, and I rocked myself against his length, making myself whimper with need.

“You are forbidden from not finishing that thought.”

Humor played at my lips, and I moved against him again. He grunted—a brutal and depraved noise, and moved his hand to slide my nightdress up.

“Do you remember when you barged in, and I was in the tub?”

He laughed lightly. “I could never forget. You were so cute wielding that candlestick.” He traced lazy circles on my hip, while he licked and sucked at my neck. “Being that close to you, knowing your body was naked and glistening… It was agony,” he whispered, pulling the fabric of my dress all the way up to my stomach.

“Well,” I said, breathless. “I had been touching myself before you barged in. I had actually been right about to come.”