It was Aryn’s fists tangling in her hair, freeing it from the confining braid as he licked his way into her mouth and feasted on her like she was some fine confection.
But it wasn’t truly Aryn kissing her—it wasn’t truly Aryn giving her what she’d hungered and needed for months, until it was an ache inside.
She shoved her hands between them and tore her mouth away. “Wait…”
“Why? You hunger. I hunger. Avet, Tyriel, so sweet, so hot, I ache.”
She knew that. It was why he was here. But she couldn’t do this…
Even as she tried again to gather her scattered wits, Irian had her trousers unlaced and she cried out as he thrust two fingers inside her. She gasped, arching into his touch.
“Tight. You’re tight, lass. You’ve an ache, too, haven’t you?”
The words—the cadence of them, it was wrong. She tried to think past the haze of lust clouding her brain, but he was already kissing her again, those two fingers pumping inside her, his thumb circling her clit, while he used his free hand to strip her trousers away. Once she was bared from the waist down, he stopped, but only long to whip off his shirt, then hers, tossing the clothing down on the hard-packed earthen floor.
Tyriel gripped the rough bark of the tree behind her, her eyes watering as she stared at the naked back of the man in front of her. Her vision wavered, magic unfolding between them. Another man superimposed his form over Aryn’s and she gasped as his magic released, twining with hers.
Too much magic, too wild and held in check for far too long, circled and eddied around them. She felt drunk on it and when he turned back to her, hauling her close, she forgot she was supposed to be arguing.
He spun her around, pivoting them both simultaneously so her back was to his chest and they were facing the mat formed of their clothes. Palming her breast in one hand, Irian bit her neck. “I want to sink m’ cock inside ya, feel your wet cunt wrap around me.”
Tyriel whimpered, her head falling back against his shoulder.
“Look…your magic, it comes to me.”
She only barely registered what he said, watching as he traced a hand over her skin and lifted it, his fingers glowing with a soft, pale white luminescence—her magic, set aflame by her need and now rising for him.
In seconds, he had her on her knees, her head bowed low as she waited.
The first press of his cock had her going rigid. He was big, thick, and it had been years. Many years.
“Shhh…I know you’re tight, lass. If I hurt ya, it will only be the sweetest kind of pain. You’ll whimper and beg for more by the time I’m done.”
That was what she feared.
“Irian—”
He pushed inside and her thoughts splintered into a thousand fragments, forever out of reach. He caught her shoulders and pulled her up so she straddled his lap, back to his chest. Before her weight could force her farther down on his hardness, he grabbed her hips and lifted her—slow. So deliciously slow. She trembled as he stopped, only the flared head of his cock inside her. The length of him pulsed and every sensitive nerve ending there flared to raging awareness.
She moaned and jerked, thrashing impotently against his hold as she struggled to take more.
He chuckled, arrogance underscoring his amusement. But he gave her what she wanted and urged her weight down on him, giving her more this time before dragging her back up. She was so wet, she was slippery with it, but it still wasn’t an easy fit, the spasming muscles of her sheath gripping and fighting him.
And it wasn’t enough. The ache inside her swelled, expanded.
“Please,” she begged.
“I’ll please you, my beautiful, wild little elf,” the deep, husky voice promised. “But…say my name. Let me hear you say it as you break.”
She shuddered, grabbing his wrists in her hands to brace herself as he rocked up, pulling her down simultaneously.
He filled her. Completely.
Tyriel moaned.
“My name,” he demanded, reaching around to flick her clitoris.
She broke apart around him, shaking and rocking, riding him as his cock pulsed and hardened.
“Say it!”
“Aryn…”
He swore.
She didn’t care because she was flying.
Irian didn’t give her a chance to come down before withdrawing and flipped her onto her back. “My name,” he growled, staring at her through Aryn’s eyes, his impatience clear. He shoved her legs wide, held her at the knees and drove into her with rough passion, filling her with one stroke this time. “Say my name.”
Tyriel closed her eyes and arched, twisting with pleasure and need and an ache that would follow her through her dreams and waking hours.
“My name!” Irian demanded. And this time, he brought his hand down on the exposed, vulnerable flesh of her exposed butt.
She jerked, staring at him with stunned eyes. Pleasure and shock ricocheted. He’d…had he just…he had!
“Do not look so shocked,” Irian murmured, stroking his hands along the inner faces of thighs, along her calves, rocking his hips now in slow, torturous movements. “You’re no new babe, scarcely a year from the Plains. Give yourself to me. Let me have you.”
He wanted more than this. Tyriel could feel it.
But she wouldn’t yield any more than she already had.
He sensed it and increased the sensual assault, tangling a hand in her hair before tugging her head back. “Feel how good we are, sweeting…yield to me, darling girl. Yield. Say my name.”
She bit her lip until she tasted blood.
“Stubborn thing.” Irian shuddered. “I’ll win you yet.”
He rolled against her, hitting a different spot inside her vagina and she moaned, her hands falling to her sides to curl in the clothing beneath them. Irian chuckled, clearly pleased with her response. He caught her right ankle and brought it up, then brought it over her body to join with the left, her thighs now pressed tightly together.
“Ohhhhhhhhhh….” She twisted and squirmed, so full of him now that she could barely stand it.
“Perfect,” the man above her rumbled before swatting her rump again.
She jolted again but didn’t protest, stunned by the sharp pleasure that sliced through her. She was no green youth, unaware of the varied ways one could find sexual pleasures. But she’d never imagined she would find pleasure in… this.
“Your cheeks have gone pink, lass. I think you like have your ass spanked. Say my name and I’ll turn your bum as pink as your cheeks while I fuck you.”
But looking into blue eyes that weren’t his, she couldn’t. She couldn’t force words past her throat now—it was tight with longing, regret, need. Averting her gaze, she reached for the strength to call a halt to this.
“Hells.” Irian brought her right leg back up and bent over her, crushing her, hooking her thigh over his shoulder to open her completely…fully. “You’re with Irian now, lass. I’m the one fucking you and making you squirm while your wet cunt grips me so hot and tight.”
He drove into her. Again. Again.
The climax hit hard and he came in the next moment.
Breathing hard and fast, Irian eased away from her and flopped onto his back.
But when he tried to pull her against him, she resisted, laying on her side, facing away from him.