Page 113 of Fate's Wicked Oath

I laughed, my head bouncing against the pillows.

He canted his chin, as if he had an idea. “You seemed more comfortable when you were on top of me—more in control,” Faren said. “How about—”

I was already moving, sitting astride his hips again, this time without any barriers. He let out a softoophof surprise, which I swallowed with a messy and determined kiss. His hands came up to cradle my neck, the back of my head, his thumb pressing into hollow of my nape. It sent a shiver down my spine, and I rocked back instinctively, his cock sliding against my entrance.

Faren groaned, gripping my waist as if to steady me.

But I didn’t want steady—I wanted movement.

I reached between us, angling him against me. His eyes met mine, and I felt like I was on a cliff’s edge, a precipice of no return. All my sensitivity homed in on that one place, on the promise of him inside me, and the power and safety of controlling exactly when it happened.

On top, in charge, the overwhelm disappeared, replaced by a ravenous desire. His lips parted as if he were about to speak—I told you so, perhaps, or maybe something encouraging—but the sound died as I eased down, taking him inch by inch until there was no more of him left to take.

“Fuck,” he said, drawing out the word on a rough breath. “Mariana.”

I undulated my hips, testing his exceptional depth. He filled me with a stretch that bordered on discomfort, but I was ready for him now, my magic no longer frantic, but receptive, practically purring.

“How are you?” The question was a pant, a plea.

I didn’t know how to answer him. Not when I felt this triumphant and aroused. So I simply began to move, rocking so that he slid over and over against that place of pleasure deep inside me.

He matched my pace with controlled thrusts, his hands clutching my ass, grinding me against him. The friction on my clit was just enough, sending me toward a peak I’d been cravingforweeks. I braced my hand against the headboard as I chased the feeling.

“Yes. Fuck. Look at you,” Faren growled, his fingers digging deliciously into my flesh. “So. Fucking. Good.”

And suddenly I wasn’t burning anymore.

I was cool as a river on a hot summer’s day, floating and buoyant with pleasure. Faren seemed to sense it, the way my body began to ripple around him. He dared to stroke my clit again, and with a soft gasp, I gripped the headboard harder. Encouraged by Faren’s steady pace, his clever touch, the wave took me up, up, up—then gushed.

I arched, my mouth opening in a silent scream as a great luminescence flooded me. My magic rose with it, swirling around each and every nerve until my entire being was pleasure, and I had no memory or sense or purpose other than to spill it like a torrent from the heavens.

Wave after wave of it came, until finally it began to ebb, giving rise to a rush of emotion. A tearful, undignified, giddy joy leaked from my eyes as I came back to myself, and our rocking ceased.

Faren eased my grip from the headboard and sat up, his arm banding around my back, holding us—holdingme—together. With his free hand, he brushed the hair out of my face, taking in my tears. “Are you hurt?”

There was no room for humiliation when he was still inside me, my body still shuddering around him. Caged in his arms, I’d never felt so free.

“The opposite,” I answered, laughing wetly as I wiped my face. “For the first time in my life, I feel grateful for my magic instead of resenting it.”

His expression quaked with tenderness—then turned rakish. “Careful when you say things like that,” he said, catching an errant tear with his finger. “You’ll inflate my ego.”

I pushed him back against the mattress once more, my hand fitted loosely over his Oath tattoo. “Have you already forgotten the last time I sat astride you?” I asked, thinking of how I’d woken him on the first day of our mission. “I can still best you.”

“How could I forget?” He turned his head and slid his tongue along my wrist; I squealed, and—while I was distracted—he jerked his hips up.

I landed back against the pillows, laughter dying in my throat as I stared up at the man now on top of me. His eyes were dark, his face serious. He began to move again, thrusting into me, slow and punishing and divine. I hooked a leg over his hip, my arms circling his neck as he picked up his pace.

A second wave of pleasure rose, my magic playing a symphony in my veins, and I was surprised Faren hadn’t come yet, himself.

Then I remembered his bragging remark downstairs. “Are you dulling your senses?”

The smirk returned. “I told you my magic helps me last longer.”

How was it that the uniqueness of his power and the uniqueness of mine would make such a perfect match? A sudden melancholy pinched in my heart. It didn’t matter how well-suited we were or how much I wished for this to last longer than a single night; by our Orders or the forces of Fate, I was guaranteed to lose him. It was quite possible thatthismight be the only time I’d get to have him.

I tugged on his neck, bringing his mouth to mine, and said against his lips, “Let go.”

He was still driving into me, but his rhythm faltered. “What?”