God of Wrath (Legacy of Gods #3) by Rina Kent

And then I sink my fingers into her silver hair, my thumb digging into her cheek, and I claim her lips.

I kiss her with unbounded hunger. I kiss her as I’ve never kissed anyone before. Before her, any physical intimacy with the opposite sex was merely to satiate a need.

With Cecily, she is the need. It’s not about fucking, owning, or release.

It’s about her and her intoxicating scent. It’s about how she melts in my arms when I kiss her.

I probe, she falls.

I tug on her lips, she whimpers.

I ravage her tongue, and she’s all pliant against me, her hand trembling on my chest, and her body becoming one with mine.

My mouth devours hers for all the time I couldn’t. For all the time she was out of reach because I was a rigid dick who only ever sees the world in black and white.

Cecily is neither. She’s the gray. She’s the colors. She’s every rainbow I never thought to stop and watch.

I kiss her because this is the only way I can show her how much different she is for me and how much her absence affected me.

The moment I wrench my lips from hers, she releases a sound, a whine, a disappointment, or something in between.

Her skin has turned redder, and she’s looking at me as if she can’t understand me.

But she wants to.

Curiosity lingers in her big green eyes, in their depths, in that tinge of innocence and otherworldly fierceness that makes her Cecily.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Raw pain bleeds from her words. “Why do you keep playing with my feelings? I’m trying to get over you. Why don’t you let me?”

“You’re not allowed to get over me, Lisichka.”

Her lips tremble. “Don’t call me that when you already let me go.”

“I didn’t.”

And then my lips find hers again. This time, I push her against the sofa, she falls onto her back with a gasp, and I follow right after.

Slowly but surely, her arms wrap around my neck, fingers splaying on the small hairs on my nape, touching, exploring.

Torturing.

Christ. This woman can turn me into a raging beast with a mere touch.

My fingers latch onto her jeans and push them down as far as possible.

It’s impossible to keep myself in check when Cecily is in my arms. When I’m tugging on her lips and tasting her sweet abandonment on my tongue.

I release her mouth so that I can remove the rest of her clothes and mine. She stares at my muscles, tattoos, and cock as her chest rises and falls harshly.

Deep down, I love how she’s attracted to me as much as I am to her. How she observes every slope of my body with a deranged hunger that mirrors mine.

No.

My need for her is much worse because I can’t resist the need to sink my teeth into her translucent skin and draw blood.

Mark her.

Own her.

So no other fucker, especially Landon, will be able to come near her.

I touch her everywhere, pinching and biting her sensitive nipples, the creamy skin of her breasts, neck, stomach, and even her clit.

The moment I suck on her clit, she comes against my mouth. She gasps, shakes, and drenches my face with the distinctive scent of her arousal.

The sight and feel of her pleasure makes me unhinged. Slipping a hand behind her waist, I pull her up so we’re sitting flesh-to-flesh, and her skyrocketing heartbeat thunders against my heightening one.

Her perky nipples brush against my chest and she whimpers, the sound stroking my libido in more ways than one.

My eyes never leave hers as I lift her up and then shove her down on my hard cock. Her head tips back in a moan, and her arms wrap around my neck.

Fuck. She feels so good.

Better than good. She feels custom-made for me. Her pussy tightens around me, strangling me, and she becomes so small and docile in my arms.

Usually, I’d up the rhythm, make her bounce on my cock and scream as I cut her with my knife. She’d cry and beg me to stop because it’s too much as she shatters around me.

Not today.

I rotate my hips slowly but firmly. I allow her to adjust before I drive into her with a deep, moderate rhythm, letting her feel every stroke. Every up and down of her pussy around my cock. Every molecule of our joined bodies.

Her moans become throatier, her whimpers deeper, and her hips naturally fall into rhythm with mine.

The slap of flesh against flesh echoes in the air as I hold her by the waist to control the thrusts.

I’m not gentle. I go so deep that her eyes water and roll back.

But I am taking it slow, moving at a pace I’ve never tried.

“Oh, God, I…” she breathes out. “I can’t take this.”

“You’ve taken worse than this. You can handle me, Lisichka.”

Her neck reddens as she stares at me again, using my face as an anchor while she grabs onto me.

“It feels new…”

Up.

Down.

“You feel different.”

“How different?” I release one of her hips and grab her throat.

“I don’t know. It’s…just different.”

“Bad different?”

A gasp falls out of her plump lips. “No… Good different.”

My thumb ghosts near her mouth, and she swallows it into her wet warmth, sucking, kissing, and licking it as if it were my cock.

I grow harder inside her and nearly come right then and there.