Page 117 of Fallen Stars
“My beautiful, beautiful Moon.” For some reason the word sounded lovely on Enzo’s tongue. Elara felt the power inside her shiver. “I wish you could see yourself the way that I do. How can you deny your beauty? Look at the skies, look at how much more magickal the night looks with you in its presence. I wish you could fall in love with your power and learn that there’s nothing to fear.”
She heard him sigh.
“Now I want you to gaze at the moon as I make you understand just how perfect every inch of you is.”
She heard a scuffle against wood as Enzo knelt, and jumped as she felt his hands on her knees.
The gangplank shifted, and she cursed.
“Enzo,” she said, voice high with worry now. “If I move, I’m going to fall.”
Enzo’s laugh was as soft and deadly as the waves below them.
“Then I suggest you stay very, very still as I worship you.”
Her heart hammered as those strong hands pushed her legs apart. Her knuckles remained wrapped around either side of the plank. The lilac waves beckoned, the moon’s glow above steady and constant.
The brush of a knuckle traced along her inner thigh, and she jolted again. The wood buoyed dramatically, and she let out a small yelp.
“Still, my love.” Enzo’s voice drifted to her on the breeze, filled with amusement.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” she gritted out.
“I doubt that’s what you’ll want to do to me when I’m finished with you,” he crooned. She heard him settle, his breath closer to her skin than it was before.
“Trust me, Enzo, this game is the least fun game we’ve ever played.”
“I think you’re a liar. Because your pretty cunt is telling me you’re very aroused right now. In fact, I can see it glistening for me.”
She hissed through her teeth at his filthy words.
“Don’t believe me?”
She felt two fingers part her softly, dipping into her and swirling her wetness around her. She hadn’t realised how soaked she was, her knees trembling.
“You were never good at telling the truth, were you, princess?”
“You never seemed to mind,” she retorted, even as her core throbbed for him. She hated that he was right. As terrified as she was to be hanging off the edge of the world, a deep and wrong thrill coursed through her. All thoughts of the gangplank and her powers were taken away as his fingers trailed over her again.
Then she felt two hands grip her thighs from underneath as he pushed her legs further open.
A stream of breath blew onto her, and she moaned, forcing herself not to writhe.
Weeks it had been without his touch, and she was ready to scream.
Then she felt his head rest on a thigh, turned to the side. She heard him inhale deeply, his nose nuzzling against her.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Taking every fucking second I can to savour this,” he replied, his breath fanning over her again. “I want to bottle up the smell of you and bathe in it.”
A thumb stroked over her, and she shivered. “Sounds a little psychotic.”
“I haven’t been able to smell my soulmate in over a month. Like I said, I’m a hopeless addict in need of his fix.”
He breathed in again. She felt his hands wrapped around her tremble, one knuckle trailing up to her navel.
“Look,” he murmured. “The light’s making love to you again.”