Page 67 of Thorns & Fire (The Ashes of Thezmarr #2)

Wren

‘No boundary remains between what was once separate and what is now eternal’

– Tethers and Magical Bonds Throughout History

T HE MAN BETWEEN her legs was a god.

Wren gripped Torj’s hair by the roots as he pinned her thighs open and devoured her. Grabbing the headboard above with her other hand, she writhed beneath his wicked tongue, admiring the way his broad golden shoulders rippled and tensed.

He had told her to sleep, that she needed to rest. But with his powerful body beside hers, rest was the last thing she wanted. Wren had slipped her hand beneath the sheets and around his cock – and that was all it had taken for the Warsword to unleash himself on her.

The noises escaping her now were incoherent, desperate pleas—

And then the room was tilting, with Torj suddenly beneath her, her legs astride his head as he licked her from below.

He was a man starved for her, ravenous, and Wren loved every second of it.

She couldn’t get enough of him, had never felt this free, this uninhibited.

She was riding his gods-damned face, for fuck’s sake.

She cried out as he slipped a finger inside her, curling it to hit that spot that made her see stars. Sweat dripped between her breasts as she moved with him, panting at the pressure that was building and building.

When he reached up and pinched her nipple, she moaned, the sensation bordering on the delicious line between pain and pleasure.

‘Torj,’ she demanded, not afraid to tell him what she wanted – all of him. Now. ‘Fuck me from behind.’

With a growl of approval, Torj circled her waist with his large hands, and she found herself being lifted from his mouth and turned around.

On her knees, she faced the wall, the mattress sinking around her as he crowded her.

He traced her curves from her waist to her breasts, lingering there, toying with her nipples, biting her neck, the hard length of his cock resting above her backside.

Wren ground against him, but her Bear Slayer seemed to be in no rush.

He circled one nipple with a featherlight touch, teasing and taunting the tight peak until Wren was chasing the contact, the high that he offered.

But his hands left her aching breasts, trailing down her arms where he laced his fingers through hers.

Then, he positioned her grip back on the edge of the headboard.

‘You’re going to want to hang on tight, Embers...’

And then he slid inside her from behind in one punishing glide.

‘Fuck,’ he moaned, the sound echoing in Wren’s bones as he forced her legs further apart and slammed into her again. And again.

‘Harder,’ she commanded. ‘I need it harder.’

She felt his smile against her shoulder before his palm flattened against her back and pushed her down, giving him better access.

Torj pounded into her, the bed rattling around them and Wren hanging onto the headboard for dear life. She felt herself stretching around him, his cock filling every inch of her, the sensation so intoxicating it was almost overwhelming.

The wet slide of him, the heat of his skin, the slap of their bodies together had her begging for more as he frayed every nerve ending she had, the sensation mounting as he drove his cock into her. She was unravelling, losing herself to the utter frenzy between them.

‘I’m not done with you yet,’ he muttered, the words themselves threatening to send her over the edge.

But the Warsword knew her body better than she knew it herself, and he slowed his pace, taking her back from the brink, drawing out each stroke, his grip still near-bruising.

Wren’s toes curled at the thought. She wanted his marks on her.

Then they were moving again, her body almost boneless as he drew her back up against him, manoeuvring them so he was seated at the edge of the bed with her in his lap, her back flush with his chest. His Furies-given strength was wasted on the battlefield, she thought distantly.

This... this was what Warswords were made for.

She was straddling his thighs, the new position leaving his hands free to explore every part of her while she lowered herself onto his shaft and rode him. Torj groaned as she did just that, meeting her movements with thrusts of his own from beneath.

When his hand dipped between her legs, dragging the wetness from where they were joined to circle her clit, Wren’s head dropped back against his shoulder with a cry.

‘That’s it, Embers...’ he murmured, nipping at her throat, increasing the pressure and pace of his fingers between her legs.

Wren lost herself to the ecstasy coiling tighter and tighter inside her, lost herself to the fullness of him. He was everywhere, driving her to the edge of oblivion again and again.

Just when she thought she could take no more, he was shifting her once again. She made a brief noise of protest as he withdrew from her body and stood—

‘I want to see your face when you come,’ he told her, his voice low and husky with desire. Hooking his hands under her thighs, he lifted her as though she weighed nothing. But he didn’t throw her on the bed as she expected...

He took her to the fucking wall.

Wren’s back hit the cool stone, and then he was inside her again.

With her nails clawing at his shoulders, his back, Wren let go as Torj fucked her hard and deep. Every thrust, every slide of his cock coaxed bursts of pleasure from her, each one more damning than the last.

He captured her mouth with his. The kiss was as demanding as his fucking. He gave her everything, and Wren took it gladly, drinking in the taste, the scent, the feel of him, as though it could make up for all the time they had lost.

A frame on the wall toppled from its hook and shattered on the floor, but Torj didn’t stop.

He moved inside her like a man possessed, a man undone.

With her legs wrapped around him, he pinned her to the wall, fucking her mercilessly and reaching for her clit.

He timed the brush of his thumb with the moment he hit that spot deep inside her, and Wren nearly blacked out.

The climax that he’d been edging her towards for what felt like hours finally hit her.

Her vision blurred as her orgasm tore through her, and she clenched around his cock with a cry. Torj’s gaze didn’t leave her face, the heat in his eyes smouldering as she rode the waves of bliss he’d created.

And then he shuddered inside her.

The carnal noise that ripped from his throat made Wren’s thighs tighten around him as she felt him pulse, felt him spill his own release. They were both panting, both damp with sweat.

And that thread of gold danced around them.

Wren wanted to say something, something that captured the momentous thing between them, the life-altering bond that she felt deep in her bones.

She searched for the right words, the words to do justice to the man before her and the thing they shared.

Torj rested his brow against hers and beat her to it. Fuck, I love you .