Page 70 of The Frost Witch (The Covenants of Velora #1)

“Everything about this is unfair,” Garrick said, but he was already shedding his leather vest. The layers of wool and linen followed until he was bare-chested before me.

I could see well in the dark, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to touch him.

“Oh no, witch.” Garrick caught my wrist again. This time, his hold was much firmer. “First, you have to watch.”

I rocked back on my heels, a frustrated huff escaping my lips as he released me and then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his fitted leather breeches. I sucked in a breath as he tugged them down. There was not enough air in the clearing, probably not in the entire world.

His cock was bigger than I’d imagined even in my wildest fantasies.

The hard length that I’d felt through his trousers in the tavern was nothing compared to the reality of him, erect and throbbing a few inches from my face.

I’d never particularly enjoyed taking men in my mouth, but with Garrick it felt like a need .

All I had to do was bob my head forward, and I could drag my tongue down the glistening seam…

“You are a wicked thing, aren’t you?” Garrick growled.

I tipped my head up, meeting his eyes in the darkness. I could not help it—I licked my lips again. Garrick’s entire chest moved as he groaned. But instead of leaning forward and giving me what I was certain we both wanted, he reached between us and pumped his cock several times.

“Everything about you seems designed to torture me,” he said as he stroked.

My pussy clenched as I watched the motion, wishing it were my walls that clung to that rigid length instead of his fingers.

“It seems to me that you are torturing yourself,” I said, my throat sliding.

“Fitting repayment,” Garrick bit out. But his hand stilled, and he clenched his eyes closed. Dark God help me, he was close already.

A newfound sense of power flooded my veins that had nothing to do with frost or the Dark God’s gifts. This was all my own, and it came from somewhere deep inside of me that I had never fully explored or acknowledged.

I could not keep my hands still any longer. I reached down to tweak my breast while the other hand slid over the soft roll of my stomach to my?—

“I have not said you can touch yourself, witch.”

This time I was the one who growled, but my hands fell away.

“Garrick,” I moaned. We both saw it for what it was—a plea.

His chuckle was low and appreciative. He stroked his cock once more before leaning down and pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Lie back.”

I did as he said, waiting while he shed his boots and breeches so that he was fully naked when he joined me in the furs.

The bedroll was made for one, and my full body took up the entirety of it.

But Garrick did not try to slide in beside me.

He nudged my legs apart with his knee, planting it between mine.

He held himself above me, one hand braced on the side of my head, the other free to stroke down my face.

He brushed his fingertips down the curve of my chin, past my throat.

He drew a circle around each nipple, then down over my belly button.

He paused to caress my stomach, running his finger along the rounded curve, then out to my hips where my silhouette waved and dipped before finally—finally—sliding his fingers lower.

Garrick groaned when he found me slick and ready. “So wet for me. Have you been like this all day?”

“I’ve been like this for weeks,” I gasped out as he found my clit.

He skimmed his fingertips over the sensitive bundle of nerves, his touch so featherlight it was half in my mind. Then he flicked the bud hard, and I screamed. Light flashed behind my eyelids, impossible in the darkness and yet totally consuming.

He flicked my clit again, then alternated with light, teasing touches.

“Garrick,” I moaned to the night, the sounds of my pleasure echoing off of the trees. My release loomed closer and closer, ready to crest at any second.

“I told you that when I made you come, you would remember every moment,” Garrick reminded me. “Will you remember this, Koryn? How you writhed beneath me? How you screamed my name?”

There was only one answer. “Always,” I gasped.

He nudged apart my legs and slid inside of me.

That was all it took. I careened over the edge, my climax stealing my breath and every coherent thought from inside of my head.

But Garrick did not relent. He continued to circle my clit, applying alternating pressure as he slid his cock slowly out and then back inside of me, until I was coming again in a second wave, my pussy clinging to him with every tremor.

My legs shook. Hell, my entire body might have been shaking. But I kept my hands at my side, just as he’d commanded. It took torturous minutes for my body to come down, for me to be able to reorient to the world around me. To Garrick—still inside of me.

I cracked open my eyes, expecting the intensity of his clover and cerulean gaze.

But what I was not ready for was the longing etched in every line of his familiar face.

His hair had come loose from the half-knot at the crown of his head.

It shone in the sparse moonlight. How had I ever thought of it as blond?

No, his hair was silver, an ode to the fae blood in his veins.

But for once, I did not recoil at the connection.

It was just Garrick, and he was perfect.

He was everything I’d never even known I wanted.

He leaned down and kissed me, his mouth gentle. He explored every corner of my mouth with his tongue, my lips with his teeth, until I was not sure where I ended and he began. After this, separation would be impossible, and we both knew it.

But it was his words that undid me, when he pulled his lips away but pressed our foreheads together, his cock still buried deep and hard within me.

“Touch me, Koryn,” Garrick breathed.

I needed no further encouragement. I was a star of raging need about to explode, the heat in me rekindled by those three words.

I slid my hands up his arms, my fingernails scraping into the skin as I went. I’d let the points come back, and now I used them to map the network of scars and muscle. Up his arms and then over his chest.

Garrick shuddered as I spread my fingers across his pectorals and paused. I wanted to feel the pounding of his heart. There it was—strong and true.

With a low groan, he began to move inside of me again.

Before, he’d thrust in time with his hand on my clit, intent on dragging out my orgasm.

But this was about his pleasure, and I felt his control slipping away as surely as I seized it with my own hands.

I raked my fingernails down his chest, desperate to add my own mark to the others I could feel beneath my fingers.

Two decades of bounty hunting on Velora had left him riddled with scars.

I wanted to know every single one, to memorize them and map them like the stars in the sky.

His pace increased as I slid my hand lower, tracing the tight muscles of his abdomen.

“Koryn,” he groaned, my name a prayer on his lips. No one had ever said it like that, not in four hundred years.

Realization clicked inside of me, like the last piece of a puzzle sliding into place. But before I could examine in, the pressure between us overtook me as well.

Garrick increased his speed, driving us both closer to the edge.

I slid my finger between us to my clit, but he batted it away.

He leaned into the space between us and sucked my nipple into his mouth.

One swipe of his tongue, and then he had the sensitive bud between his teeth.

That was all it took. My breasts had always been the most sensitive part of me.

I threw back my head, arching into the furs and crying out. Above me, Garrick roared, my climax driving his. My legs shook as he emptied himself inside of me, waves of heat that felt like coming home.

Garrick’s chest pressed down into mine, his heart thundering so hard that I felt it as if it were my own. As if three hundred and seventy-seven years after my death, some part of me had finally come back to life.