The Darkest Touch

He was magnificent.

She should have followed through and ended things, should not have pushed him to this point. And maybe she would regret it...tomorrow. With Torin stretched over her, his weight pinning her down, his heat and scent surrounding her, she was utterly consumed with pleasure. It saturated her bones, submerged her mind, tickled her every cell. She was alive with decadent sensation.

And Torin was...

Oh, yes! He was moving his fingers in and out of her, taking her to new heights, because he was the one doing the pleasuring. And oh, she had to make sure he received equal measure. No, greater measure. He was new to this, and should be—

His fingers brushed a spot inside her that had her screaming and pleading for more, her thoughts utterly consumed by him. Reached the point of no return.

Like the accomplished warrior he was, he settled in to take full advantage of this chink in her armor, rubbing and rubbing...so good!...and rubbing...

She reached between them, wanting her hand wrapped around his shaft. But he pinned her arms above her head with one hand and continued to torture her so exquisitely with the other, always moving in and out of her, in and out.

“Torin.”

“You’re so wet, princess.”

“Yes,” she panted. “I want you. Want everything. Give it to me. It’s been so long, and I’ve never yearned for anyone the way I yearn for you.”

* * *

TORIN WITHDREW HIS fingers from the hot clamp of Keeley’s delicious wetness to pinch her chin and force her gaze to rest on him. Her cry of disappointment was music to his ears. Her eyes were glazed but glowing brightly, her cheeks flushed to a deep rose. Never had she been lovelier.

Soon she would belong to him in truth.

“I won’t give you up,” he said. “That’s never going to change.”

Her lashes fluttered closed as she arched up to rub her breasts against his chest. Those hard, luscious nipples created a heady friction. “Please. Please. Torin, it hurts.”

“Don’t want you hurting.” A tremor swept through him, undoing him. Keeley would be his first lover...and his last. He would never want another the way he wanted her.

Other men might have panicked, thinking only one, but Torin rejoiced. He would never have to settle for a pale substitution, in memory or in deed.

“Ready for me, princess?” His steel-hard length stretched through his fly, and he made sure the latex remained in place. His blood burned hotter and his heart raced faster as he rasped, “Grab the headboard.”

When she obeyed, he ripped a hole in the center of her pants and settled in between the cradle her legs provided. He positioned himself for entry, just the tip breaching her inner walls, and oh, hell, he could feel her molten heat already, the tightness of her, and had to bite his tongue against the instant torrent of rapture.

He trembled, battling through the unending waves of ecstasy, as he pushed in slowly, an inch at a time, giving her time to adjust to his girth. Giving himself time to adjust to his first taste of unadulterated euphoria.

He’d wanted this for so long. Had waited for it. Dreamed of it. Spent centuries cursing his lack of it. And here it was, being given to him by a woman who overshadowed all others.

“Torin!” She planted her feet on the mattress and lifted her hips, driving him deeper...so damn deep...until he was in her all the way to the base of the condom.

The tremors intensified. It was...he was...there were no words.

No, not true. There was one. Forever.

Will have this forever.

Will have her forever.

She was tight around him, tighter than any fist. She was scorching hot, luscious and soft. He wasn’t sure how he’d lived without her, and knew he’d never be able to do so again.

“Move,” she gasped out. “You have to move in me.”

Yes. Oh, yes. As he drew back, felt the hot glide of friction, the sense of euphoria intensified and he couldn’t breathe from it; she wrapped her legs around his waist, applied pressure, trying to force him to slide back in. But he didn’t. He resisted, continuing to pull back...until he was almost all the way out of her. He hovered there for a moment, taunting the frayed edges of his control, knowing what awaited him when he surged back in, so hungry for it. Starving.

“Torin!” she cried.

Wanting her hunger to build, he waited just a little longer...just a second longer...before thrusting back in with all of his strength. The entire bed rocked, the headboard banging against the wall. A portrait fell, the glass shattering.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” She threw back her head, shouting, “Again.”

Nothing could stop him.

He pulled back and once again hovered at her entrance before surging inside her. After that, a dam broke. There was no more hovering, no stopping him. He thrust, faster and faster, harder and harder, the banging against the wall constant. She was so wet, the glide easy despite the tightness of her hot, inner clasp. He chased his pleasure—no longer a want, but a necessity. Going to shatter.

For the first time, he would come inside her. Inside his woman. He would experience with her what he’d never experienced with another. He would know her, all of her. Have her, all of her. Would give her all that he was.

She sank her teeth into his chest, and even through his shirt he felt the sting—loved it. His woman surrounded him. She was everywhere, all at once. Her taste lingered in his mouth. Her screams echoed in his ears. She was shouting his name, coming again, milking his length, arching against him, clawing at his back. And...and...his thoughts splintered.