Blurb:
Universal Link
“The oil’s by the bed stand,” he said in a dry tone, no doubt irritated at the evidence of his own interest poking into the air. He shifted and made to position himself face down on the bed, providing me with a good view of his exquisite, round globes.
I clenched my teeth again. This time, to prevent my load from blowing.
So he expected me to fuck him from behind with no further ado. Did that hurt my feelings? Not really. Honest to the gods, I wanted nothing more than to cover his lean frame and crush him flat into the mattress while pushing inside him raw. To hold him beneath me and ram into him, taking my week-old frustration out on his arse. I would’ve been within my right, as I’d paid damn well for the privilege. But doing the very thing he anticipated from a savage rubbed me the wrong way.
“ No,” I snapped. “Turn back around.”
He didn’t resist when I gave his shoulder a little nudge, trapping him in an awkward position between me and the bedpost at his back.
I steadied him when he stumbled a little by placing my hands on the sides of his arms.
My palms didn’t stay there for long. They slipped down and up his shoulders almost of their own volition. Once I started touching him, I didn’t want to stop. So I kept my big paws on him, enjoying the cool, satiny feel of his skin and the lightly defined muscles beneath. Grunting my appreciation, I caressed his neck and chest.
I didn’t reckon his eyebrows could travel any higher up his forehead. They did, however, the minute I sank to my knees in front of him. “Don’t move,” I ordered, dragging his trousers a little lower still.
Deciding who felt more stunned by the turn the events had taken would’ve been a toss of a silver. Wide-eyed, Red looked down at me. The colour of his irises, which had escaped my notice before, revealed itself: dark chestnut, flecked with sparks of rose gold. Rich and earthy. Sweet and sticky. Like treacle. Or buckwheat honey.
Slowly, I lowered my stare until it met the ruddy head of his shaft, erect and shiny at the tip, a hair’s breadth away from my face. I inhaled, and his scent— warm notes of spicy sweetness and musk— filled my nostrils. Saliva pooled in the floor of my mouth, and I swallowed to avoid drooling. A primal impulse to taste overruled all my other responses. I trained my eyes back on him, licked my mouth for a bit of slick and closed it over his swollen hardness.
We moaned in unison.
What the fuck was I doing, falling to my knees for an arrogant whore who despised me? That hadn’t been the plan. If anything, it was the exact opposite. But right then, rattled by his closeness and dazzled by his flavour, I couldn’t bring myself to care. I shut down the panic.
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A linguist and an avid reader with a particular fondness for fantasy and paranormal genres, KASIA BACON lives in London with her husband. When not tearing her hair out over a translating project, she writes stories about the shenanigans of emotionally constipated assassins and sexy Elves. Otherwise, she can be found shaking her loins at a Zumba class, binging on anime or admiring throwing knives on Pinterest. A lover of MMA and Muay Thai, she also enjoys nature and the great outdoors. She dreams of becoming independently wealthy, leaving the city and moving into her wooden mini-manor—located in the heart of stunning forests resembling those of the Elven Country depicted in her tales.
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