Page 38 of Lunar Diamonds (Celestial Magic #1)

RILEY

D rake’s mouth worked me like a slick, velvet pocket. So hot, so talented, his tongue sliding across the swollen head of my cock as he rocked back and forth.

“Oh, Drake…” I breathed out, my fingers in his hair.

I watched him bob, his back muscles rippling. My toes curled, my heels digging into the carpet.

Goodness, he knew how to suck a cock. And I loved being on the receiving end of his talent.

He gripped my thighs, doing me hands-free, taking me closer and closer to the edge.

My tears were gone, like there was a chokehold on my sadness the moment I opened the door to him. I didn’t care about anything else, wanting to lose myself in him. To pick up where we’d left off in the recreation room.

Ask questions later.

Cry later.

Think later.

“You feel so good,” I purred, my body alive, so rich with palpable ecstasy.

He moaned around my shaft, the vibrations reaching my balls.

I giggled, jerking slightly.

He bobbed harder.

“Yes… Yes… Oh yes…” I bunched his hair in my fist, thrusting a little, edging closer to the sweet release.

My desire burned hotter, heat flushing across every inch of me. Wild hunger consumed, a feral beast smashing up the control booth.

This wasn’t enough. Hot as hell, but not enough.

“I need you inside me…”

Drake paused, popping me out of his mouth. “Sorry?” He looked up, erotic promise in his gaze.

“I need you inside me,” I repeated. “Raw. Fuck me raw.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Seriously?”

I slid back across the bed, lifting my hips, showing him just how serious I was.

The beast growled, my arsehole puckering greedily. I caressed it with two fingers, the nerves responding with delight.

“I—”

“Fuck me, Drake. Use your spit and fuck me. Make me feel it.”

Damn, did I want to feel it. To sweat and scream and call his name, to tumble into exquisite oblivion.

Numb the pain with cock.

Numb the pain with him.

He approached the bed gingerly, his nervousness endearing but wrangling my beast a little bit.

Had I been too full on? “You don’t need to?—”

He moved quickly, throwing my legs over his shoulders. “Like this?”

Ah. There you go. Treat me like a sex toy. “Yeah…”

He spat onto his fingers, sliding them into me. My head tilted back as he broke the barrier, the first bite of pain a welcome arrival.

“So fucking tight.” He spoke with such husky cadence to his voice I thought I’d cum right there and then.

Wow.

In and out, in and out, stretching me until I begged him to fill me with something bigger.

Much, much bigger. A spectacular specimen of girth and length waiting to take me to paradise.

“Get in me,” I said aloud, meaning to think it.

Oops. But nothing that wasn’t true.

He laughed, positioning his hardness against my crevice. His hair fell over his face, forcing him to rake it back.

I loved that move, my juices rippling in response.

His eyes met mine again. “Ready?”

“Fuck me.”

His lips quirked into a naughty smirk as he buried himself deep.

My feet scrunched up, my hands clawing at the duvet. The bite of pain, the filling of the nerve-rich canal, and then the pleasure. Oh, the pleasure, my body an inferno of yumminess.

Drake moved his liquid hips, building his rhythm quickly.

I swung my hands around to grab his arse, slapping the cheeks. Like hitting a tambourine, but with a lovely jiggle.

He claimed my mouth with his, sliding deeper, hitting my ‘YES’ button. His stubble rubbed against me, its roughness enough to throw a log on the fire of desire.

Hell to the yes.

I clung to his gorgeous arse cheeks, saying goodbye to reality.

Yeah, get lost.

One good thing the High Coven achieved was the eradication of disease. Not death, but all sickness, including STIs. Able to shag safely in the knowledge your partner wouldn’t leave you with warts on your balls.

Drake pounded me harder, panting, sweating along with me. I shuffled, lifting my hips higher for him. Holding on tight, my cock brushing against the ridges of his abs.

“Riley…” he breathed. “Fuck.”

I squeezed his buttocks, my balls tightening. “I’m close.”

More heat rising, a heady rush toward the crescendo.

He fucked me harder, piledriving me.

Wow. I’d never fucked with saliva before. This friction drove me crazy, a real remedy to the crappiness of the day.

“You feel so fucking good,” he said with a delicious grunt.

Closer, closer, my body aflame with sensation, the volcano between my legs about to erupt.

I lifted my head, kissing him, encouraging him, nibbling on his bottom lip.

He growled, slamming into me, crushing that ‘YES’ button.

Oh. My. Goodness.

I threw my head back, tossed across the point of no return. My eyes rolled back, my body arching as I screamed my pleasure.

Hands-free, jets of hot cum dousing his abs.

“Fuck!” he growled. “Fuck!”

He exploded himself, drawing more from me. I spasmed and reveled in the delights, soaring into giddy heights.

“Keep fucking me,” I begged. “Just keep fucking me.”

He kept going for another five minutes until he collapsed on top of me, pinning me to the bed.

I hugged him, hands sliding up and down his sweaty body.

I could stay like this for hours…

After showering, we spooned on the bed, me the big spoon.

“You were amazing,” I told him again. I liked the way it sounded, happy to keep my praise on repeat.

My arse still vibrated from the yummy invasion, my cock a merry shaft.

“So were you,” he said.

He looked so vulnerable in my arms. “Are you okay?”

As much I wanted to keep the tone light, a lot of seriousness hung around us, waiting to be discussed.

“Not really,” he answered.

I rested my chin on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Not because of you,” he said quickly. “You were incredible. I’m just…” He didn’t finish.

“What?” I kissed the back of his neck. “You can tell me.”

He sighed. “You don’t need to hear my life story.”

“I’d like to.” I sat up, resting a hand on his side. “You can talk to me, Drake. I mean it.”

“As well as fuck you?” he said, sitting up with his back to me.

“Anytime you like. Well, as long I don’t have morning breath.”

He chuckled, glancing at me over his shoulder.

I traced a finger across his back tattoo. “What is this for? It’s fabulous.”

His eyes moved as if he were studying it himself. “To remind me of how far I’ve come. That I can emerge from the fire again. That I don’t have to always be down in the swamp, even if it might be easier to stay there.” He groaned. “If that makes sense. Do I sound like a wanker?”

“Not at all.” I kissed a phoenix wing. “And it does make sense. It keeps the hope flowing.”

He nodded, turning to face me, crossing his legs. “I’m scared of the dark, of small spaces. I hate them.” His bottom lip quivered. “I… I… Shit.”

I cupped his face, leaning in. “You don’t have to talk if it’s too much.”

He closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath then exhaling slowly. “I owe you an explanation for the silent treatment.”

“You don’t. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I?—”

“My parents died in a car crash,” he said.

I clamped my mouth shut to listen.

“I was five, sitting in the back of our car. Driving home from a late summer holiday in Whitby.” He scratched his stubble. “Too late to drive. Dad…” His eyes glistened. “He was so tired. Should’ve pulled over, should… Shit. Sorry.”

I took his hands. “Take your time.”

His eyes were on the wall behind me, still shining with the threat of tears.

“I need a shot of something.”

I sprang into action, pouring two shots of vodka at the mini bar.

“I didn’t mean you had to get me one,” he said.

I hurried back, giving no craps at my nudity. “Here.”

He took a shot glass. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

We drank at the same time.

Yikes. Neat vodka was, well, something. Oof.

Drake carried on with his story, his hands back in mine. “Dad lost control of the wheel, speeding off the road. Mum was asleep, waking up just as we crashed.” His breath trembled, his hands tightening around mine. “Crashed into woodland along the side of the road. I remember… I remember the screams so clearly. The scraping metal, the glass…” He shuddered, closing his eyes. “Fuck.”

I fetched him more vodka.

After another shot, he said, “A branch came through the windscreen, killing my dad. Mum… Mum’s head hit her window too hard. She died instantly, too. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” A single tear broke free, rolling down his left cheek.

I caught it with my thumb. “You can stop if this is too hard to talk about.”

He shook his head, taking deep breaths. “It’s alright. I want to say this.”

“More vodka?” I asked, my heart aching for him.

“No. Thanks. I… I was trapped in that car most of the night. In the dark, the seatbelt stuck. Man, it was cold—one of those chilly late summer nights. Crying for them. Desperate to be found. It wasn’t until about four in the morning when witchcops on patrol found me.” He ran a hand over his face before returning it to mine. “After that… Fuck.” He steadied himself with another deep breath. “After that, I went into care, got adopted by a woman who locked me in her basement for punishment.”

He told me about Sandra, his adoptive mother. A vile woman who married an abusive man who hit Drake. Put him in the hospital after breaking his jaw.

I wanted to be sick.

“Social services intervened after that,” he said. “Planned on putting me back into care after I recovered. But fuck that. I ran. In the dead of night, I ran for my life. Hitchhiked from Brighton to Norwich. Slept rough for a while, then started getting jobs with my powers until I made enough to rent a studio flat above a chip shop.”

More tears rolled free. I caught them with the pads of my thumbs. “Drake…”

“It’s still my place now.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“That’s why I hate the dark. And Rhianna knew that, locking me up, too.”

In that moment, I found hate. For Sandra, for that Bryan guy. For Rhianna. How dare they hurt and damage him like that?

He grasped my knees gently. “Sandra died a few years ago. Fell down the basement stairs. Ironic, huh?”

“Extremely.”

“Bryan suffered a stroke a week later, dying three months after that.”

Would it be bad to say “good!” to that? I kept my mouth shut, focused on him, not those arseholes.

“But none of that fixes the scars they left. They called me useless and it still resonates now. I don’t have a lot of self-worth, you know?”

I stroked his left cheek with the back of my hand.

“Hence the phoenix,” he added. “It’s a fightback. Part of the healing.”

“Oh, Drake…”

He blinked a few more tears free. “Thanks for listening.” He kissed me softly on the lips. “I never talk about this. I always want to be strong, locking it away because it really fucking hurts. But it’s out of the box right now, and I can’t… I just had to tell you.”

“I’m glad you did.”

He blew out a long breath. “I always sleep with the lights on. The ginkgo powder takes the edge off.” His lips curled up into a small smile. “So do you.”

I pulled him into a hug. “You’re a fabulous man, Drake Parish.”

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

A repeat of his statement at Mystique Square, almost turning me to jelly.

I held him, stroking his beautiful copper skin.

“I can’t even imagine the pain of what you’ve been through,” I said, resting my chin on the top of his head. “But I wish I had a spell to take it away.”

He looked up, pinning me with his gaze. “You do chase it away. You’re… You’re a light I’ve needed for a long time.”

“I…” I didn’t know to reply, caught between elation and uncertainty. “I…”

I’d always dreamed of a knight swooping in to change my life. You know, the full fairytale fantasy. But maybe I could be Drake’s knight, a constant stream of that light he mentioned.

Wow. What a wonderful prospect, and a scary one.

Wait. I knew exactly what to say.

“You’re so beautiful, Drake. And worthy.” I pushed fingers through his hair. “The most beautiful man in the world. I’ve thought so from the moment I saw you. That charming smile worked. You got in here.” I tapped my head. “You take my breath away.”

Without a word, he kissed me as tears cascaded down his face.

Yeah. I’d be that knight of light.

With bells on.