Catching her against him, he rolled her to the floor. Helping her lean up enough he could tug her skirts and shift up her body.
“Your shirt.” She whispered, shoving at it when he lowered to return to her lips. “Off.”
He caught both collars and shredded it, letting it fall from his shoulders.
Elsabet’s hands roamed over the black markings twining his chest and back. “They’re only visible in faded light. During the day they’re gone.”
“Weaker. Hidden.” He dismissed. Growling as he pressed against her. Growing more fevered in his hunger for her.
A hand lifted to cup her breast. Feeling the warm crest between his fingertips. His other hand slid between them to slide lower.
“Sebastian.” She cried out as his fingers applied pressure to her most tender area.
He swallowed the sound with his lips as he began to massage her at the crux of her thighs. He adjusted his weight to slip a finger into her warm crevice. Coaxing her inner lips apart to where her heated core warmed his hand. He eased a finger into her. Feeling her tighten convulsively around him.
She gasped and arched her back. Offering him better access.
He growled, nipping at her neck as he buried the urge to sink in teeth. And mark as mine.
He somehow managed to focus on her wildflower scent and the warmth of her inner walls wrapping his finger.
He began to stroke her until he felt her writhing in pleasure.
Feeling her warm heat dampening his fingers.
Making his body harden for her until he nearly ached. He slid a finger into her tight heat and massaged it in and out of her. Watching her rise onto her elbows and lift her hips to meet his touch.
Soon she threw her head back and moaned so loudly that the sound echoed through the long aisles of the library and up into the vaulted ceiling. Her hips lifted and her legs shivered. Her walls clenched around his finger and vibrated as she climaxed.
That one word would haunt his thoughts. He’d hear that soft voice calling his name over and over again, in his mind. Taunting him tortuously.
He felt the last shudders of her body easing from its satiation and knew what he needed.
I want to feel that around me. He realized he desperately needed to feel that around his staff.
He slowly began again. Building her back up to that peak once more.
She shuddered once and just as she tightened to climax she snatched his wrist to still him.
“No.” She shook her head.
He froze, aching with need. “You want me to stop?”
“No. I want to feel you when I reach my pleasure.”
He swallowed hard. Staring at her in pleased shock. “As you wish.”
He rose up and she greedily unlaced his breeches and withdrew his hardened length from his pants.
Groaning he kicked from his pants and replaced his finger with his root. Sinking into her heat and feeling her body stretching to accommodate him.
A sweet body unused to the intrusion of man. He was instantly flooded with possessiveness. Wanting to make her his and mark her so no other man or beast could put a hand on her without grave consequences.
“Get this dress off me.”
His gaze fell to the many laces tying down the front and the long layers of skirts.
“Tear it off. Like you did your shirt.” She said urgently.
His brows shot up.
He complied before surging roughly into her. Desperate with the need to drive into her. Mount her like the beast he was.
But even as he filled her he yearned for more. Knowing he’d never get enough of her. His tawny hair fell in gold waves down his back as he lifted his head to moan.
She circled her legs around him to draw him deeper into her and she rose up to meet him. Driving him in so far, he wondered if he’d pierce her too deeply.
She screeched in pleasure and he felt what he’d sought. The damp heat of her ecstasy soaking him.
As daylight crested the treetops across Meadow Mountain, Bast found himself standing at the window slit of her chamber, oblivious to the chilly morning breeze across his bare torso. His arms crossed thoughtfully over his defined chest. Feeling the muscles in his body wound with tension.
At some point last night, they’d made it from his library, still in the throes of passion, to her chamber without being witnessed by the whole household.
A miracle in itself.