The Fae Princes (Vicious Lost Boys #4)(16)

“It’s cute that you think you can tell me what to do.” He fingers me again, but lets his thumb trail up my wetness, caressing my clit with a featherlight touch. I wiggle my hips on the table, trying to follow the pressure of his hand, but he’s too quick and far too clever.

He’s purposefully driving me mad just to prove a point.

“Vane,” I moan.

He lets me go, tears off my panties, and spreads me open for him. He plants a gentle kiss just above my knee, on my inner thigh. “You have the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen, Win.” He leaves a trail of kisses, down, down, until he’s so close to my center, I can feel the tickle of his breath.

I’m alive with heat and need, but he shifts to my other leg, kissing down my thigh again, letting his fingers get dangerously close to my pussy.

“Vane,” I say again, breathless.

And then he licks up my pussy, causing me to jolt.

He’s gone again.

“Stop torturing me.”

Hand at my pubic bone, he applies pressure, and a flush of heat runs through me.

“I like hearing you beg.”

Eyes half-lidded, I gaze up at him. His violet eye is still violet, watching me intently. With the Neverland Death Shadow, he has much better control of it. There’s no need for violence or blood.

Just raw need.

“Please,” I moan.

“Louder.”

“Please.”

A ghost of a touch on my clit makes my back arch on the table, every nerve and bone trying to meet him closer and closer, more and more.

His fingers follow the inner crease of my thigh, then slip over my wetness, and I shiver, my clit throbbing.

“Vane, I can’t—”

He sinks his mouth to my center.

As soon as his tongue is sliding over me, I can no longer lie still. I wiggle on the table, but he hooks his hands around my thighs, baring me to him. He flicks his tongue against my clit, then flattens it, licking slowly.

“Oh my god,” I breathe out and claw my hand into his hair, guiding him over me.

It hurts how badly I love him, and tears are suddenly burning in my eyes as he brings me closer and closer to the edge.

“You taste so fucking good,” he says against me and kisses slowly and deliberately, his tongue flicking over me.

“I want to come with you.” I pull at his hair, as if I can bring him under my control.

He looks up at me from between the V of my thighs, his hair rumpled and messy from my frenzy for him.

“I don’t need to come,” he says.

“The fuck you don’t.” I sit upright, the shadow swimming just below the surface.

There is a thick ridge where Vane’s cock is still trapped behind his pants. I unbutton him. “You’re fucking me,” I tell him. “Right here and right now and I want you to come with me.”

I slip my hand in beneath the waistline of his underwear, and he exhales in a rush as I grip him in my fist. The tip of his cock is already wet when I drag the pad of my thumb over it.

“Don’t deny me.”

He pushes a length of hair off my shoulder, his hand going to the back of my neck. “There was a time I wanted you to run faster, so you could escape me.”

I stroke him. He growls.

“But I don’t think there was any stretch of land vast enough that would have stopped me.” He kisses me, his tongue meeting mine, sharing my taste.

We start gentle, and slow, and then we’re ravenous, the kiss deepening, frenzied. I yank down his pants and his cock bobs free. He kisses at my jawline, bites at my neck. I wiggle to the edge of the table and hook my legs around him, lining him up as our lips crash together again.

“Fuck me,” I beg against him and nip at his bottom lip. “Now,” I add, more commanding.

He wraps his arm around my waist, lifting me up, yanking me closer, as if there is no such thing as close enough, even when he’s finally sunk inside of me.

I moan loudly. He growls at my ear as his cock throbs against my clenched inner walls, as he pounds into me, the table scraping over the floor.

We are fire and debris from lives lived broken and terrified. We fuck like love is a salve we are terrified of using up.

We fuck like there is only now.

Now.

Now.

Now.

Vane slams into me, and the friction between us lights up my insides, the orgasm crashing through me with the power of a tidal wave.

I cry out, hooking my ankles behind him, driving him deeper.

He thrusts in, spilling inside of me, grunting at the shell of my ear.

I shake in his grip, the pleasure scoring through me like water through rock.

I am forever changed by him.

I love him.

I love him so much it burns, and yet I shiver in his grip, my body trembling as if it doesn’t know what to do with all of this joy and pleasure.

Vane pulls out slowly, then pushes in again, the muscles in his back flexing as he holds me close. “I can feel it,” he says, a soft utterance, a quiet secret.

“Feel what?”

“Your love,” he says. “In my chest.” He kisses my cheek, lingering close. “I can feel your love like a million golden stars in the endless abyss that is me.”

His words hit me in the gut and wings fill my insides.

I clench my teeth, trying not to cry, but it’s too late.