Page 21 of The Deep End of Death (Twilight Lake #4)

Shay had never been unkind. He had never used his magic to force my will—even when he wanted to heal my wounds, and I refused.

What would he do? I wondered. If I took what I wanted?

He inched forward, his hand brushing against mine as he reached for the open book on the table. The brief touch made my skin burn, and his touch lingered long after his hand had moved away.

My fingers shook as I lifted my hands and pressed them against Shay’s cheeks, holding his head. Shay’s glazed eyes met mine, and confusion flitted across his features as I held his face and studied him as if I wasn’t entirely sure what to do.

So, I kissed him.

His lips folded under mine, plush yet hard. His skin smelt of wood smoke and the needle-trees surrounding the Nymph village.

Shay’s body loosened, and he gripped my shoulders—as if he were a small boat against a tempest. His fingers danced over my skin, and I sensed his indecision as he debated whether to pull me closer or push me away entirely.

I felt the moment I won. Shay moved to the edge of his chair, his fingers moving from my shoulders to tangle in my hair as he held my head and plundered my mouth, taking what he needed from my lips.

I was no longer the predator.

I was Shay Mac Eoin’s prey.

My eyelids fluttered as pleasure wound around my body, and refused to let go.

He hadn’t touched me, but his magic made the air thicker.

My breathing grew shallow, and Shay’s fingertips trailed over the seam of my jaw and down my bare arms. I shivered as the kiss ended, but our lips did not move, and we shared a breath.

Shay knitted his fingers with mine. With a silent urging, Shay pulled me forward.

I sat up, placing both legs on either side of his, sliding into his lap as he sat back in his chair.

I reached up, winding one of his braids around my hand. The tendril of hair clung to my finger as if it had a life of its own, and I bit back a smile.

Shay’s eyes flicked through a rainbow of colors, settling on pale ice blue—the color that had got us in trouble in the first place.

With slow deliberation, Shay pressed the flat of his palm over the front of my tunic, on my breast, where the brand that connected us sat.

My nipples tightened, and though I ached to reach forward and pull his lips to mine, the air was tense—as if both of us were frightened of moving too fast and breaking the moment.

“I want to see it.” His voice was husky with unspoken emotion.

I nodded but made no move to remove my tunic.

Shay reached for the hem of my linen shirt, gripping the bottom of my top with two fingers and a light touch. He lifted the tunic over my head with slow and delicious trepidation and dropped it to the floor in a puddle of ripped fabric.

My nipples stood hard against the chill, but Shay only had eyes for the mark we shared.

His finger shook as he studied the lines of my brand with his touch.

Our mark was circular, a strange kind of sigil I didn’t recognize. An angry line sat in the middle of the brand. I imagined that it meant something wholly tragic—one soul separated by a slash, forced into two bodies. I didn’t know if the mark was literal, but I got the meaning nonetheless.

Shay Mac Eoin and I were fated mates. Shíorghrá.

Our destinies were tied together, no matter how much I had tried to protect him from the chaos I brought.

Shay’s callused finger followed the raised lines of my mark, his breath still in his chest. “Just like mine.” He whispered—his focus entirely on the mark. “You and I… belong to each other, don’t we?”

“I think so.”

I squirmed on his lap, stilling when I felt the sudden presence of something very hard between my legs. My lower belly warmed, and my core pulsed with desire. Shay’s finger traveled to my nipple, circling the hard nub, as a mischievous smile pulled at the edges of his lips.

His finger trailed down from my chest, over the delicate skin of my stomach, before reaching the waistband of my trousers. He toyed with the brass button at the waist, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I’m going to burst out of my clothes.” I joked.

“I hope you do.” His eyes sparkled. “And sink down so far onto my cock that you feel my tip at the back of your throat.”

My mouth filled with saliva. “Nymphs definitely know how to talk dirty.”

“This isn’t a Nymph skill.” Shay licked his bottom lip. “I think I might die if I’m not inside of you.”

“Shay…” His name came out, half moan, half whine.

Shay pulled himself back, despite my protests, and placed his hands on my shoulders, encouraging me to stand. Before I could ask what he was doing, he put me on my feet and swiped every open book from the table onto the floor.

With one swift movement, Shay Mac Eoin lifted me. He placed my ass on the bare wood of the library table, reaching for the waistband of my leather leggings, pulling them down my legs, and leaving me entirely naked in the temple library.

He knelt between my legs, his hands pushing my thighs apart, and I felt his breath on my core as he kissed me, pressing his lips against my clit—earning a jolt that ran through my whole body.

I moaned his name, arching my back as his fingers trailed ever so delicately against the soft skin of my thighs before they reached the folds between my legs.

He pried apart my lower lips with his thumbs, studying my entrance before he leaned forward, licking a stripe from the bottom of my pussy until he reached my clitoris, circling the delicate nub before continuing the motion all over again—achingly slow—until I wanted to grab his head and force his face against my wetness until he couldn’t breathe.

I shuddered as Shay’s fingers danced over my entrance before a single digit sunk inside of my pussy, up to the knuckle, and his tongue repeated the same circular motion over the delicate nub above my entrance.

I laid back, my eyes closed, and my arm slung over my face as he licked and sucked my clit. He was skilled; there was no denying it, and every touch stoked the fire under my skin.

When I looked down at my body and saw Shay between my legs, feasting as if I were the most delicious fruit in the Aos Sí, something shattered inside of me.

My orgasm crashed over me, gripping my body like a tight and unrelenting fist. It kept coming, waves and waves, as Shay’s fingers thrust harder and carried me through my orgasm.

Another finger joined the first until I wasn’t sure if his fist wasn’t inside me.

When I was finished, I felt like a sea sponge wrung dry, despite the puddle of my cum on the table. My body was limp, and I lifted my head with a silly smile as I repeated Shay’s name in a drunken haze.

He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he savored the smell of my arousal.

I lay on the table, unable to move, as he dropped his trousers and stepped between my legs, his hands gripping the back of my knees.

His cock rubbed against my clit, as he rocked his hips against my wetness without thrusting inside.

Shay’s body arched over me as he held my legs, looking into my eyes as if searching for something.

“Shay…”

“Maeve,” He gave me a wicked smile. “Is there anything you want to say? Because everything is going to change once I claim you.”

I licked my bottom lip. “If you don’t fuck me, I’m going to choke you.”

“Rainn told me you were violent in the bedroom—”

I reached forward, gripping his head and pulling his body to mine. The tip of his cock brushed my entrance, and my eyelids fluttered as pleasure raced through my body.

“Greedy Sídhe.” He hissed as he thrust forward.

There was no tentative thrust. No testing to see if I was ready.

Shay pressed himself to the hilt. My breath exploded from my lungs as his tip seemed to sit so deeply inside of me that I felt him in my lower belly. A pinch of pain and a wave of pleasure as my inner walls gripped him like a fist, refusing to let him go.

Shay rocked his hips, and the world went white.

My brand burned most deliciously, another erogenous zone, demanding to be played with, as Shay pulled back and left only the tip of his cock inside of me before pushing himself back inside as deep as he could go.

I gripped his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto. He was a storm; all I could do was hold on for dear life. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. It might have been his magic, holding my body at the moment before climax, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want it to be over.

Shay let out a low groan. “If I had more time…”

“What…?” I gasped out.

“I’d spend days with you, fucking into you, filling you with my cum.

” He growled. “Fuck.” His thrusts grew shallow, and my orgasm raced up to meet me like a wave held back by a dam.

Whatever his magic had done to keep me from cumming broke, and tears leaked out of my eyes as I screamed in pleasure.

If I had more presence of mind, I would have worried about tearing my throat.

He gripped my hips, holding me, as I bucked and writhing through my orgasm. Shay came so deeply inside of me that I swore I could taste it.

Shay wrapped his arms around me as our orgasm drifted into warm completeness.

I didn’t have words.

Someone cleared their throat, and we bolted up despite our previous fatigue.

Cormac, Rainn, and Tor stood between the stacks. Between them, the temple attendant with a plate of food.

The attendant gasped as his hands loosened around the plate. No one moved as the plate dropped to the floor, splintering into a dozen pieces. He raised a single shaking finger to Shay Mac Eoin, still naked, his cock wet with my juices.

Shay’s eyes were pale, ice blue.

“Demon!” The attendant shrieked. “Demon in the temple!”

Shay gripped my hand and refused to let go until the temple guards prized us apart.