Page 24 of Eternally Rare
I grab the leg of her chair and pull her closer to me. She yelps, her hands gripping mine from the unexpected movement. The wooden legs hauntingly grind against the ice-tiled floor, scratching the surface.
That is an easy fix.
“You were too far away for my soul to be happy.” I wrap a hand around her ankle, my eyes roaming up her long legs that I hope will be wrapped around my hips soon.
Moving her closer to me brings the havoc in my marrow solace, but I did not prepare myself for her scent to hit me like a newly blossomed meadow in spring. I growl, tugging her to me by her leg, the chair squeaking loudly from the few inches it moves.
My eyes roll to the back of my head as I inhale, dragging my nose up her leg until I stop at her knee. I peek up at her, hearing the audible broken breaths. Rarity is still gripping the arms of the chair, holding on for dear life, but I do not smell fear.
Oh no, it is quite the opposite.
Her desire is strong, mixed with nerves and uncertainty, and I am not the kind of male to push. Instead of lying her down on this table and showing her pleasure, I press my forehead against her knee, digging my fingers into her thigh to gather my control. My cock aches to feel her pussy around it, but in all my years, I have never slept with another.
While I want to bathe in her until I drown, I am afraid I will not be able to give her what she needs.
I kiss her leg before straightening, grabbing one of the glasses of wine I have poured for us, and chugging half. The dry bitter taste has me reeling back, choking mid-swallow.
“Are you okay?” Rarity’s hands take mine as her gaze searches mine, then drops to my lips.
Tears well as the burn in my throat ease. “My gods, where did you get that?” I point to the glass. “It is dreadful. Humans made that? Those poor creatures. Is this what they give to people to punish them?”
Rarity giggles, flipping her long, luxurious hair over her shoulder. “It can’t be that bad, Cai.”
No one has ever given me a nickname. I rather find I like the shortened version of Cailian from her lips.
I roll the stem of the glass between my fingers. “Do you want to taste?” My voice deepens more than usual, wanting her to understand just how much I want her to savor me.
“I do.”
I nibble my bottom lip between my teeth. “Open your mouth for me.” My cock hardens beneath my robes, my words breathless as I imagine saying them to her while Nyx has her on her hands and knees. I’d guide my cock between her plump, pink lips, watch them stretch to accommodate me, witness her spit shine on my cock, and then be gifted the sight of her swallowing my come.
I want nothing more than to put my frost in her veins, in her womb.
“What?” she asks while I am daydreaming of her.
I smirk, snatching her throat with my hand before she can take her next breath. My thumb grazes her plump bottom lip, a breeze of a whimper tickling my fingertip.
“I said open your mouth,” I repeat myself.
She obeys beautifully, spreading her lips wide for me.
“Good girl, Rarity.” I take a swig of the harsh wine, then lean forward, keeping her throat clutched in my hand.
I spit the badly made alcohol into her mouth, the red liquid drips down her chin, and I am there, licking wine from her skin.
“Oh, My Snow, this wine tastes so much better when I am using you as the glass,” I say, pushing her chin to shut her mouth. “Swallow.”
Her throat bobs and a slight flinch pinches her features as the burning bite of the cheap wine makes itself known in her throat.
“I don’t think it’s as bad as you say.” Her gaze dances from my eyes to my lips, her want becoming exceedingly clear.
I drag my finger down her angelic, delicate jaw. “Do you want to try it again?” My other finger circles the rim of the frosted glass.
She nods with an eagerness that has the primal need in me practically purring with satisfaction, but then I think of the submissive part of me, the part only our dragon can fill.
Rarity opens her mouth and I take another drink, never breaking eye contact. Our lust thickens the air, heating it to the point the chandelier above us begins to drip onto the table.
Sliding my fingers across her neck, her pulse jumps beneath my touch.