Throne of the Fallen

“Fuck.” His breath came out in a harsh burst.

In another wondrously fast movement, he had her on her back. Her legs spread wide as he pressed closer, lowering his weight, supporting himself on two strong arms on either side of her head. His powerful mass was an erotic sensation on top of her.

She inhaled as deeply as she could, his scent filling the space around her. All she could see was him, all she could feel. And she loved it. Wanted more.

Envy kissed her. Slow at first, his tongue reminding her of all the sensual things it had just done to her. She clawed him closer, her body already throbbing as his cock twitched at her entrance.

He smiled against her neck, pausing his torturous exploration as she attempted to seat him inside her from their current position. His low laugh sent a dark thrill through her, the pulse shooting straight to that juncture between her legs.

“Patience, Camilla, darling. I promise I’ll fuck you as hard and fast as you like, soon.”

Before she could argue, his mouth had closed over her breast. His tongue did that glorious thing—a combination of tantalizing strokes and slight scrapes of teeth that made her throb everywhere.

Her hands tangled in his hair again, her body arching up to meet his. They’d played this game long enough; she needed him. Needed that release.

“Please.”

Envy glanced up, his hungry expression matching hers.

He positioned himself at her entrance, rubbing his tip back and forth across her folds, ensuring that she was slick and ready even though he knew damn well she was.

He pushed in slowly, allowing her time to adjust to his size, her walls clenching around his intrusion.

Envy brushed his lips across hers, the kiss quickly becoming a tangle of tongues and teeth, then pushed in deeper, her breath catching against his.

Camilla realized the kissing was a distraction, to help her body relax, to welcome his impressive length. They repeated the motions, him slowly thrusting in, inch by inch, pausing to kiss and tease, bringing Camilla to the brink of pleasure, then pulling out. Each time he plunged in farther, stretching her, but she still feared he’d never completely fit.

With a final, powerful thrust, he was seated fully inside her.

He propped himself up on his forearms, searching her face.

“You’re all right?”

“Yes.” Camilla’s voice was breathless. All right was an understatement. His size filled her beyond what she’d imagined she could take. She felt every twitch of him, every throb of herself responding to that silent call. She’d never felt more alive.

Tentatively, she gripped his elbows and shifted her hips, sliding across the marble to take him impossibly deeper. He pulled out with a hiss and then thrust back in. God, he was enormous, taking up every trembling inch of her, owning her flesh with each stroke.

He hadn’t lied. He would ruin her.

Camilla wasn’t sure how anyone else would ever compare.

She caught the sharpness in his gaze moments before snowflakes began to fall across her skin. He must have sensed she’d thought of others. The territorial, beautiful beast.

“No one will.” He pulled out, leaving only the tip inside before slamming back home, earning a moan from her.

“What?” She was nearly incoherent from pleasure, waves of it crashing through her with each expert roll of his hips. But he needed to say it, confirm her thoughts.

“Touch you again,” he said. “I’d kill them.”

His mouth claimed hers, branded her. When they broke away from the kiss, his look said it all: mine. Something primal in her liked that. Wanted to claim him in return.

He must have read the look on her face. If he’d been holding back, he stopped.

Envy set a punishing pace, one hand now gripping her hip, anchoring her as each thrust went deeper, faster, moving her body with its force.

Camilla gripped his shoulders, nails viciously digging into his flesh, branding him.

Hers.

She matched his pace with her own, meeting each of his strokes, slamming their bodies together until they were both swearing out loud.

Sweat dripped down his chest, mixing with hers. Their limbs slid together everywhere, the sensation erotic. The sounds of their bodies slapping together, the musky scent of their union—it was heady. Wonderful. So beautifully wicked it made her pulse pound.

“Harder,” she commanded.

“Fuck, Camilla.”

His voice was raw, his grip on her tightening. They were both going to be scratched and bruised by the end of the night.

If he was going to ruin her, she wanted to ruin him, too.

Let him remember this night of passion, think of her hips crashing against his, their bodies shattering long before their stubborn wills ever would. She wanted him to shout her name, his orgasm ripped from the deepest depths of his soul.

“More,” she said, pulling him closer, tasting every inch of his salty skin she could.

She tugged his hair harder, his mouth crashing against hers before falling over her neck, her chest, her breasts. He licked and kissed and nipped until she thought she’d go mad.