Page 108 of Consort's Glory
She arched under him, a sound of surprise and pleasure bursting from her lips as he bit her again and again. It wasn’t gentle, but it was what instinct told him she needed — that threat of danger, that understanding that it would never, ever be fulfilled. His halfling wanted him to be rough with her, needed the intensity that called to their basest instincts.
Her hips pressed backward, seeking. “I’m yours,” she gasped.
Theodore drew himself up abruptly. His chest heaved as he scrambled to unlock the clasps on his shoulders, his eyes glued to the wanton creature beneath him. Margot turned her head to watch him. With her cheek pillowed against the comforter and her hips arched in the air, waiting for him, she embodied something wild, primal, too erotic to name.
“I love to watch you undress,” she admitted, voice husky and eyes gone heavy-lidded.
A keening sound built in his throat. His fingers flew, discarding the cape thoughtlessly, then the suit jacket, then the damned collar and pressed shirt. All the while, Margot’s greedy gaze traced every inch of skin he revealed, her lust a tangible pressure on his overheated flesh.
By the time he got to the buckle of his belt, he was fumbling, his aching cock too hard and too demanding to ignore. Instinct howled for her and the luscious heat waiting for him.
Unable to stop touching her, Theodore tore at his belt at the same time that he ran his left hand down her spine, tracing the bumps and valleys with the tips of his claws until he reached the swell of her backside. He gave it a firm, appreciative squeeze. The sight of his black gloves and wicked silver claws against her delicate skin was almost obscene.
She looked so delicate in comparison to his huge, dangerous claws. So breakable. Through gritted teeth, he said, “I need to take off the gloves. I don’t want to—”
Margot made a soft sound of protest. When he was able to tear his eyes away from the gorgeous sight of her slick and ready for him, Theodore saw her staring back at him with eyes half-mast, pupils blown wide, her lashes casting shadows against her soft cheeks. A lock of red hair lay like a streak of copper against her jaw when she said, “No, keep them on. Just this once. I like the way they feel.”
Breathe, Teddy. He had to stop for a moment and grasp his erection hard, trying to stem the build-up of furious pressure there before it was too late. Breathe.
Swallowing hard, he slowly lifted his lashes to find her hips swaying, urging him on. He gripped her hips automatically, instinct snapping to the fore at the hint that she might be trying to get away, to challenge him.
I’m not letting you go, he told her, raw and implacable.
Then I need you inside me,she tartly replied. Now.
Pulling her hips back hard against his sagging belt and half-undone slacks, Theodore leaned down to nip at her shoulder blades. His fangs left trails of red welts on her perfect healer's skin — never enough to draw more than a pinprick of blood, but enough to leave a mark. Her back arched. Her small, blunt claws dug into the comforter as he soothed the scratches with his tongue. “Theodore!”
My consort, in my bed, in my territory, calling my name. Satisfaction roared through him in a searing wave.
Dropping his hands to her thighs, Theodore spread her legs wider, accommodating his considerably larger size, and massaged the sensitive, well-loved skin there with his gloved hands.
A shudder rippled down her spine as he trailed his claws upward. Carefully using the smooth backs of his claw-caps, he brushed her soft red curls, her warm, wet skin, and the bud of her clitoris with the utmost care.
Margot’s hips jerked. He watched, fascinated, as her shoulder blades drew together, the muscles bracketing her spine flexing as desire rippled through their bond. His name was a broken murmur into the comforter.
Breathe.
Theodore leaned back just enough to push his slacks and stupid, restrictive underwear down around his thighs. It wasn’t dignified and he would have preferred to at least not be wearing shoes when he made love to his consort for the first time, but he was not about to waste even a second bothering with them when she lay before him, hips up, thighs spread, breathing soft pleas for him to give her more.
Trying to marshal even a shred of composure, Theodore gave himself a hard squeeze and breathed deeply three times. It’ll be fast, but you can still make it good, Teddy. Come on.
“Tell me to stop if I’m hurting you,” he rasped, gripping one of her thighs to spread her wider still. “You’ve got to tell me, darling. I can’t do this if I think I might be hurting you and not know it.”
Margot nodded quickly against the comforter. “I’ll tell you. Promise.”
Relief was immediately followed by hot, brutal anticipation. Slowly easing forward, Theodore lined himself up with her and pushed.
“Fuck!” The clasp was so tight, so hot, he had to stop almost immediately to tilt his head back and breathe, his chest expanding to its full capacity with each deep breath.
Beneath him, Margot trembled. Her fingers clawed at the comforter. She held perfectly still, the muscles of her inner thighs and shoulders rigid. Theodore blinked hard to rid himself of the stars exploding behind his eyes.
“Godsdamn it, darling.” Theodore smoothed his hands over her thighs, up her backside, to clasp her around the waist. “You’re so tight, it’s—” He cut himself off with a groan as her muscles fluttered around him, their tense, choking grip easing ever-so-slightly to allow him a little deeper.
Theodore moved slowly, terrified of causing her more pain than strictly necessary. Sweat slicked a path down his back. “Are you okay?”
Margot peeked at him from over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed red, her eyes glazed. “Yes,” she whispered hoarsely. “It hurts, but it’s a good hurt.” Biting her lip, she leaned back into him, taking more. “Please, Theodore. I want all of you.”
He groaned. Dropping onto his elbows, he pressed his chest against her sweat-slicked back and kissed her hard, desperate, with everything he had. When she parted her lips for him, Theodore thrust hard.
