Page 61 of Temptation Unleashed (Talaenian Fae #3)

N o one needed to tell her twice.

Rori rushed down the corridor, the looming wooden door challenging her to push through the physical barrier standing between her and Thaddeus, while the heaviness in the air the closer she came taunted her to try and break through the walls he had erected.

To hell with it all.

The latch opened without resistance, and she threw the door wide.

She spotted Thaddeus immediately, slumped in one of the chairs before the fire, a man who only a short time ago stood like an unmovable force now appeared to have been stripped of all strength and fight, hope and life.

A shell of a man whose vulnerability she could taste in the air, feel like the looming gray underbelly of storm clouds, and that resonated deep inside her.

He lifted his gaze from the flames toward her, his eyes dull blue and sapped of life.

He stared at her for a long moment as if he didn’t register her presence, moving only to breathe, his chin resting on his fist, elbow propped on the arm of the chair.

Rori grabbed the door and slammed it shut, then spun back to Thaddeus, who had finally seemed to realize he wasn’t dreaming.

His brows creased. He lifted his chin from his fist, hands gripping the edges of the arms as his back straightened.

“You fucking infuriate me, you damn Faery man,” she groused loudly, storming across the room.

He began to rise, but she reached him before he got to the edge of the chair and shoved him back.

His eyes went wide, his jaw slackening as she climbed over his lap, grabbed his lapels and gave him a fierce shake.

“Is that what you wanted?” She shook him again. “ Is it?!”

“Stor—”

“To hurt me?”

“Godde—”

“Because,” she brought her face mere inches from his and hissed, “you won’t .”

She crushed her mouth to his, cutting off any further response behind her demanding kiss.

He didn’t miss a single beat, following each hungry sweep of her tongue and desperate drink from his mouth with his own.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, sank her fingers into his hair, tugging at the strands, trying desperately to get closer when there was so much in the way.

She noticed the moment he tried to take control, the same moment his arms whipped around her and pulled her tight.

She smacked a hand against his chest, pushing him back.

He stared at her, his eyelids heavy, his pupils wide, the familiar lively glow back in his irises despite the haze of desire.

Breaths came in labored gasps through glistening lips.

She caught his chin between tight fingers, earning herself a surprised arch of his brow.

“You don’t get to give your heart to me only to take it back, you fucking bastard.

Do you understand me? You don’t get to do that .

Not when you have mine in return.” With a strong flick of her hand, she released his chin and jabbed her pointer between his pecs.

“We do this together. You and I.” Leaning close, she drew out clearly, “ To-ge-ther .”

He caught the back of her head as she leaned back, his fingers finding purchase tangled within her braid, bringing her close, and growled, “Aye, mo ghrá .”

This time, he took control, and dear God, she melted. The hurt, the pain, the betrayal he aimed to create all fizzled away. His tongue possessed her, his mouth claimed her, his hold on her had her hating the back of the chair where her knees hit, keeping her from getting closer.

Three days she’d been without him. Three long, tormenting days, and the rebound was blissfully chaotic.

One moment, she was trying to close the gap between them. The next, she was in the air, his hand clinging to the back of her head, and his arm wrapped so steadily around her waist, crushing her hips to his.

Right where she yearned to be.

The skirts of her gown prevented her from locking her legs around him.

She clung to him, thighs clamped at his waist, moaning as she sat hard against his cock.

Every inch of skin tingled, hummed, reacting to the slightest shift, the lightest caress.

His hair tickled her arms, unleashing a flood of heat and moisture straight to her core.

The rough friction of the satin bodice against her pebbled nipples sent her into a frenzy, one he eagerly fed more fuel to.

Too much between us.

There was no attempt to untangle her fingers completely from his hair before she raked and tugged at the collar of his robe while drowning in the plundering feast from his mouth.

His hand dropped to her neck, loosening enough for her to curve her body away from him and yank open the fabric at his chest.

Her entire body shuddered as she splayed her hands over the hard curves of muscle, the smooth slope of his pecs.

Reluctantly, she tore away from his kisses, her forehead pressed heavy against his, struggling to catch her breath.

The familiar scent of spice that was part of his flesh, a natural perfume that made her mouth water and her body tremble.

The ache at the crux of her thighs, the slick arousal only he could coax.

She slipped her hands beneath the robe, molding to the thick swell of his shoulders, each divot and dimple and sinewy cord of muscle, and pushed the fabric down his arms as far as she could.

Dipping her head, she pressed an airy kiss beneath his ear.

An exquisite rumble resonated through his chest. The thick mound against her core jerked.

Opening her mouth, she teased the stretch of his throat, tasting his skin with small flicks of her tongue, learning his reactions to the way her exhales cast across his moist skin.

The tremors that rippled through his muscles.

When she scraped her teeth lightly over the juncture of his neck and shoulder, his fingers bit into her hip, and a delightfully dark, carnal sound filled her ears.

“Dangerous little human.”

Rori traced the line of his collarbone with her tongue, loving the flavor of his skin. She curled her hips against him, a quiet whimper mixing with her kisses as a rush of pleasure spiraled up through her belly. Her knees clenched harder.

There was no warning before his arm dropped out from around her.

He pried her legs away, shifting his hold to her hips, guiding her to her feet despite her squeak of protest. She grasped the sash around his narrow waist, where all the fabric of his robe caught against the barrier, tugging at the knot until it fell open.

Her throat swelled, the frantic pattering of thousands of butterfly wings tickling up her throat.

She sucked in a deep breath, leaned forward, and nuzzled his chest. Drew the tip of her nose between the deep ravine of muscle as she followed her trembling fingers over each hard step of his abs.

God, the Faery man was divine. She’d never get enough of him, staring at the masterpiece of perfection.

Tracing every fine detail, committing him to memory.

Luxuriating in the cool firmness of his skin.

Mine.

His stomach tightened as her fingers played. The thin silk pants that hung low on his waist did nothing to hide the thickness pressing to come out.

Hooking her fingers at his waistband, she lifted her head, dragging her tongue along his chest until she stared up into his fierce eyes, black and smoldering except for the thinnest radiant blue rim.

The hollows of his cheeks shifted, his jaw working behind taut lips.

His hair, completely unrestrained, hung over his cheeks, pale sunlight strands enhancing the wild energy humming around them.

His nostrils twitched, flared. His lips, red from their kisses, parted with a slow inhalation.

The flare of light that cut across his eyes ignited a shiver in her bones.

He dropped his arms long enough for the robes to fall in a pillowy pool at his feet.

But before she could tug at his pants, he shackled her wrists with one hand, whipped her around, and trapped her against one of the thick bedposts with the weight of his body.

Slowly, he lifted her arms and pinned them over her head.

Rori whimpered when he lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, “The sweetest sound is that of your desire.”

He curled her braid over her shoulder, his warm breaths spreading across her ear as he lowered his lips in the lightest kiss to the nape of her neck.

She curved her back into him, turning her head down as he kissed each bump of her spine.

His tongue swirled over each vertebrae, fueling the inferno at her seam until she rocked and moaned, trying to find release.

God, she was so far gone in arousal, drowning in the sea of pleasure.

And he’d barely done a damn thing.

He stayed her hips with a firm hand. “Easy, mo storín .”

Fuck if he didn’t press that hand along the crease of her hip, fingers coming within an inch of her pulsing clit, only to retract. His mouth continued to work down each level of her spine as he lazily drew his fingers up her side and across her back.

The bodice tightened, then loosened. “Thaddeus, stop torturing me.”

“Patience, little love.” He tugged the ribbons at her back again. “You’ll be well rewarded.”

A small prelude came with the trail of his tongue from her bodice up to her nape, retracing every last inch of her exposed spine. She sucked in a sharp breath.

Then he bit. Firm but without harm, right at the base of her skull, and she cried out, bowing back into him. She tugged at her arms, writhing as his teeth nipped down her neck, shooting pleasure lighting stars behind her eyelids. She ground against the post, the throb between her legs maddening.

His leg hooked around hers, his hand wrapped around her braid, and together pulled her head back as he angled her hips away from the post. She stared up into the predatory gaze of her breathtaking man, erotically feral with the raw hunger consuming his expression.