Timeless (Pandora Book 1)
Page 18
Tears ran hot and thick down her cheeks, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “Now, it’s perfect.”
* * * *
Seeing his mark on her skin, knowing she truly belonged to him, Vane hadn’t been able to get Charlotte home fast enough. Once the ceremony had concluded, he’d gritted his teeth and smiled while his friends and family congratulated him, but he’d been too impatient to keep up the charade for long. The instant they’d walked in the door of their apartment, however, he hadn’t been smiling anymore.
“I need you, prya.”
Kissing his way down her throat and back up to her mouth, he carried her to his bedroom—their bedroom—and lowered her atop the downy comforter on the matter. He insinuated himself between her legs, supporting his weight with one hand while he buried the other in her silky hair.
With a breathy moan, Charlotte curled her arms around his neck and caged his hips with her thighs, pulling him down into a kiss that shattered his world. Out of his mind with need, Vane didn’t just return the kiss, he ravished her, drinking down her affection.
Soft, supple, and flushed with desire, Charlotte’s fair skin warmed against his palms as he caressed her thigh beneath the hem of her dress. Every touch set him on fire, and each quiet whimper made his head spin, but he needed more. He wanted to surround his mate, to overwhelm, enrapture, and consume her until everything else faded away.
Without care or gentleness, he stripped out of his clothes and then returned to Charlotte, undressing her with fumbling hands as the fever gripped him. She was more beautiful than he had words to describe, both inside and out, and for some unfathomable reason, she’d chosen him. Vane vowed to never take that gift for granted.
Though he wanted to take his time, to savor each kiss, each caress, to relearn every inch of Charlotte’s body all over again, he knew he didn’t possess the control. He’d been strung too tight since the first kiss they’d shared inside the Hall, hovering on the edge and just waiting to fall.
“Don’t stop,” Charlotte panted. Lifting her hips from the mattress, she rubbed against him with a needy moan, welcoming him eagerly between her splayed legs. “Please don’t stop.”
Dropping his face into the crook of her neck, Vane breathed in her warm scent and groaned. “I love the sounds you make.” Slipping a hand between their damp bodies, he slid his index finger down Charlotte’s crease, gently opening her and grinning when her soaked entrance fluttered against his touch. “Tell me you want me.”
Charlotte sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and whimpered as she rocked against Vane’s hand, seeking more friction and growing visibly frustrated when he wouldn’t give it to her. “Vane, please!”
“Oh, no, prya.” He dipped two fingers into her tight, slick opening, turned his wrist, and then pulled his hand away. “Say it.”
Trembling, Charlotte writhed against him, making the most delicious sounds as her eyes lit with a wild, feral desire. “Please,” she whimpered. “I feel like I’m on fire. I need you, so stop teasing and fuck me.”
“That’s my girl.” Vane’s quiet laughter tuned into a deep groan when she arched against him, rubbing her slick folds along his.
Grasping her left hip and pinning her to the bed, Vane guided the head of his cock to her velvety core and thrust hard, driving deep into her clenching heat. When she called his name on a ragged moan, the chains of restraint fell away. Burying his face against the side of Charlotte’s neck, he snapped his hips, plunging into her with a desperation that scared him.
Sliding one arm under her arching back, he locked it around her like a steel band and held tightly, whispering endearments and declarations as their bodies undulated together. When Charlotte stiffened beneath him, her inner walls squeezing him, milking him, he held tighter, whispering her name as he finally let himself fall.
“I love you.” Charlotte held him as she stroked his hair. “Don’t move,” she whispered, clamping her knees against his hips when he tried to roll away from her. “Just stay for a minute.”
He could lay in her arms for the rest of his days, and it still wouldn’t be long enough. Her contentment, her love, her unbound joy—it flowed into him, warming his skin and swelling his chest with emotion.
Things wouldn’t always be easy, but then, the best things in life never were. By fate, destiny, a miracle, or something even bigger, he’d been given a second chance, and he intended to make every second of it count.
The Atreans would come or they wouldn’t, but Vane refused to waste time worrying about it. If they wanted a war, he’d give them a war, because after centuries of endless battles, he finally had something worth fighting for.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ARGENT.KALI@GMAIL.COM
Born with a silver tongue and a pen in her hand, Kali spends her days sleeping (she's part vampire) and her nights crafting scandalous romances with larger-than-life heroes.
Self-proclaimed patron goddess of reclusiveness, Kali currently resides in the Midwest with her oddly supportive family and tragically misunderstood cat.
Seriously, though, the cat is evil.
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