Page 79

My body arched against his, my hands wrapping around the tensed muscles on his biceps as he kissed the hell out of me. His tongue was harsh and brutal, but in a way that exhilarated me.

My grip on him tightened as his hands found my bare thighs, shoving my dress away so he could lift me by my legs. His body held mine against the wall as my feet left the floor, my core meeting his erection in a way that made me groan. The clothes between us were too much—too thick, and definitely in the way. But with our bodies pressed together, both of us wet now, getting the fabric off wouldn’t be easy.

And all I wanted to do was keep touching Namir—keep kissing him.

His fingers were nearly on my ass, kneading my flesh and sliding closer to my core. I wanted more—I wanted him.

Ripping my mouth away from his, I snarled at him, “Undress me.”

His eyes burned into mine for a moment before I grabbed his face and dragged his mouth back to mine. He made quick work of my dress, and ended up ripping the damned fabric on my underclothing to get it off.

When my nipples met his bare chest, I moaned at the feeling.

His hands were hot on my body—squeezing my ass, tracing my curves, gripping my breasts. I panted as I rocked against his erection, both of us bare and moving together.

The desire to have him fill me was brutal. It was a need—a fierce, hot need that made me think I’d combust if I didn’t have it.

I snarled at him again, “I want you inside me.”

He growled back, “If we do that, the bond forms. Pregnancy is likely.”

I didn’t care.

Fate had connected us; Namir was mine—and I wanted him to be mine permanently, regardless of the consequences. Pregnancy was nearly two years for fae, and that was plenty of time for us to cement our bond and get to know each other better.

I didn’t know who exactly I wanted to be, or what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew that I wanted Namir with me. And having a baby sure as fuck wouldn’t prevent me from being whoever and whatever I wanted. More love was always, always a good thing—and I knew that I would love any child I grew with every ounce of ferocity in my bones.

And those damned bones held a fuck-ton of ferocity.

“Now, Namir. I want you inside menow.”

He parted my thighs further, aligning his erection with my opening. The pressure of his tip against me there was intense, but he wasn’t in a hurry—and I wanted him to be in a hurry.

“Don’t be gentle. It’ll hurt at first, so just get it over with,” I commanded.

He growled at me as he thrust himself inside me, not nearly as fast as I wanted him to. He was still being gentle—still protecting me.

And something told me he always would.

…Though I was certain that I could get him to fuck me harder when he knew he wouldn’t cause me pain by doing so.

We groaned together as he slid into me, and my body tensed as he broke through whatever strange barrier inside me my body had somehow managed to keep intact despite years of torture.

His eyes burned into mine as he stopped moving for a moment, his erection buried inside me. My chest rose and fell rapidly, matching his heaving one.

He didn’t ask if I was okay, but I knew he wouldn’t continue until I’d said whether I was or not. Of that, I had no doubt.

“Give me a second,” I managed, my eyes closing as my body adjusted to the thickness of him. The sensation was a strange, full one, but a heady one that I loved. “Fuck, Namir.”

“That better be a goodfuck, Love,” he growled back, his hands squeezing my ass.

“It is.”

“Good. Now open those gorgeous eyes; I want you to look at me while I make love to you.”

The sexy command made me groan. “Stars, Namir,” I panted, as he thrust back inside me, quickly but not too quickly.

“You feel like fucking heaven, Love,” he growled back.