CHAPTER 18

Seraphine

Korven’s hands were all soft caress and fiery burn. His mouth on the skin of my inner thigh was almost too much to bear.

I’d imagined this many times since our reunion. I had romanticized what we could have been. I had given him up years ago, believing myself to be happy there in my own cottage hidden away from the world, only seeking company for my bed when I’d gotten lonely enough.

But there he was with me, kissing his way up to the tiny triangle of silk covering the liquid heat that poured from me in my yearning for his touch. He had easily pulled me to rest my knees on either side of the arms of his chair, spreading his wings out wide behind him to face the hall entry. If anyone passed in the quiet library, they’d see the strange sight of a Ravenfae’s wingspan and nothing else.

His strong hands slipped under the roughly cut hem of my wedding gown and pulled at the tiny strings of my undergarments, snapping them against my skin.

Settling himself lower beneath me, his eyes caught mine in a devilish grin. “How attached are you to these?” He pulled the thin white strings again.

“Not at all?—”

Before I could fully finish, he snapped the strings from my body, tossing the thinly sewn undergarment I’d hated since the day my betrothed gifted it to me. Prince Urik would never see them on my body. He’d never rip them off me, either.

As if having the same smug thought, Korven’s gaze drifted to everything I had exposed to him. His chest deflated in a carnal rumble, and he slid his hands over my bare backside, squeezing me fully.

“Can I kiss you, Phinie darling?”

I reached out, wishing I could brush my fingers through his hair. “Yes,” I answered breathlessly, excitedly, desperately because I needed him touching me. I needed his kiss more than he’d ever know and that was the damning truth of it.

He pulled my body to his mouth, offering one kiss against my soft bud, then two. A short moan escaped me and I pushed closer, asking for more.

Another kiss, gentle, restrained, though his hands at my backside told another story. They stroked and squeezed, timed with every kiss he placed across the heat of my skin.

“Korven,” I moaned in frustration and dire need of his tongue and hands.

“Tell me,” he replied. I felt the heat of his breath as he continued those soft kisses, ending right at the apex of where my pleasure would know no bounds if he would only follow my growing list of demands.

I gulped, my breath releasing quickly from my chest as I listed my requests. “I want you to lick every wet part of me, Korven. I want to come undone over your mouth. I want you to suck and kiss and circle over every inch of what I offer you. I want to reach the peak of a release and try to pull away but you hold me to your mouth to taste all of it—every last drop of the pleasure you give me. I want you to make me scream and cry out in this library so that only you can hear what your clever mouth can do to me. I want you to consume me, Korven. Live this moment with me.”

He had paused to listen, but didn’t keep me waiting as he licked his lips, lifted me further over his face and answered with a simple, “Done.”