Light My Fire
Page 64
Fuck that. Who was she kidding? Elina wanted a fight.
When it came to sex, Elina liked to know she was bedding an equal, not some weak-willed male who would take whatever she gave.
And she was more than pleased when she realized that Celyn the Charming was not that male.
When he tried to fuck her, suddenly the limp doll Elina had become turned back into the vicious little spitfire who had gotten naked in front of him and straddled him like a horse she wanted to break.
She pushed herself up, then swung back with one fist, trying to push him off while attempting to get to her feet.
Celyn caught that fist and held it. But he waited. To hear her say the one word that would stop everything. He waited to hear “no” and he only needed to hear it once. He would never force Elina or any female to do anything she didn’t want . . . unless Elina wanted him to.
But that “no” never came. She just tried to pull her arm away while still pushing her body up so that she had some leverage.
Celyn, however, wasn’t about to give her that leverage. He caught hold of her one free hand, then reached around and gripped the other. With a good pull, he had control and Elina, still on her knees, had control of nothing. The only thing that kept her face from hitting the ground was him.
She continued to struggle, but he pulled her arms back and then gripped both her slim wrists in one hand. With Elina securely held, Celyn again pressed his cock against her pussy, which, he was happy to note, was wetter and hotter than it had been before. And it had been so very wet and hot before.
He pressed his cock against her and, with a rather undignified grunt, he shoved home.
Elina let out a cry; then she began to curse him. At least, he was guessing she was cursing him since she now spoke the language of the tribes and he didn’t understand a bloody word she said.
Yet, there was still absolutely no sign of the one word he needed to hear if he was going to stop this. And he thanked the gods every second as he began to take her with long, powerful, and incredibly hard strokes.
Although Elina still struggled to get her arms free, her hips were slamming back against his as he took her with, even he had to admit, absolutely no charm whatsoever.
It was true. He’d always known it. When it came to sex, no matter how much Celyn might fight it, he was and always would be a Cadwaladr. Which meant one thing . . . he liked a bit of fight from his bed partners. He wanted them to go down swinging. He wanted to wake up in the mornings scratched, scarred, and sore.
And, much to his eternal surprise, Elina was one of those partners. She snarled, she screamed, she threatened, she said things in her own language that he was positive he never wanted to know the meaning of. She, in short, put up one hell of a fight . . . but she never said no. Or stop.
So he fucked her, hard, while she fought. And he kept his own orgasm at bay—as bloody hard as that was—until he ripped that climax from her.
Her screams didn’t scare off the birds, but he sensed they now had an audience of animals, watching the superior beings do what they mostly did during mating season.
Celyn continued to fuck her through that orgasm and when he could tell she was fighting off another one, her body too sensitive to go through it again, he pulled back his hand and slapped her ass. Her pussy clenched his cock like a vise and they both exploded, his head back, flames bursting from his throat, a few of the viewing birds singed before they managed to take to the air.
Wrung dry, the pair landed hard on the ground, Celyn now spooning Elina from behind.
Trying to catch their breath, they lay there for so long that Celyn lost track of time. That is, until Elina noted, “You are still hard inside me.”
Celyn nodded, then realized she couldn’t see that. “Aye,” he finally answered.
“How is that possible?”
“I am dragon,” he answered honestly. “Anything is possible. We’re that amazing.”
“Are you?” she asked, seconds before her elbow came back and rammed into his face.
“Ow! You mad cow!”
Suddenly Celyn was flat on his back and Elina was on top of him, his cock inside her again, her small hand trying to wrap itself around his throat.
“Then show me,” she ordered him. “Show me how amazing the dragon is.”
It was the way she rolled her tongue when she said “dragon” that had Celyn gripping Elina by her shoulders and throwing her to her back. He held her down by pinning her arms above her head and unceremoniously shoved his cock inside her.
“I can show you whatever you want,” he told her as he fucked her hard. “I’m just not sure you can take it all.”
“I am Daughter of Steppes,” she reminded him, seconds before she managed to pull one of her hands away and dragged her nails across his chest, leaving bloody claw marks. “I can take anything.”
Celyn really hoped that was true. Because they had hours before the suns would rise and he wasn’t the least bit tired . . .
Chapter Twenty-One
“Get up, lazy dragon. We must ride.”
“No,” Celyn told her flatly, turning onto his side. “Take a turn with your hand and leave me be.”
“I mean ride our horses . . . out of here.”
Celyn opened his eyes, then quickly closed them again when the rays of the two suns nearly blinded him.
Gods, he felt like he’d been drinking all night. But he hadn’t. Although he almost wished he’d been doing that instead. He’d feel less pain . . . and probably less used.
When it came to sex, Elina liked to know she was bedding an equal, not some weak-willed male who would take whatever she gave.
And she was more than pleased when she realized that Celyn the Charming was not that male.
When he tried to fuck her, suddenly the limp doll Elina had become turned back into the vicious little spitfire who had gotten naked in front of him and straddled him like a horse she wanted to break.
She pushed herself up, then swung back with one fist, trying to push him off while attempting to get to her feet.
Celyn caught that fist and held it. But he waited. To hear her say the one word that would stop everything. He waited to hear “no” and he only needed to hear it once. He would never force Elina or any female to do anything she didn’t want . . . unless Elina wanted him to.
But that “no” never came. She just tried to pull her arm away while still pushing her body up so that she had some leverage.
Celyn, however, wasn’t about to give her that leverage. He caught hold of her one free hand, then reached around and gripped the other. With a good pull, he had control and Elina, still on her knees, had control of nothing. The only thing that kept her face from hitting the ground was him.
She continued to struggle, but he pulled her arms back and then gripped both her slim wrists in one hand. With Elina securely held, Celyn again pressed his cock against her pussy, which, he was happy to note, was wetter and hotter than it had been before. And it had been so very wet and hot before.
He pressed his cock against her and, with a rather undignified grunt, he shoved home.
Elina let out a cry; then she began to curse him. At least, he was guessing she was cursing him since she now spoke the language of the tribes and he didn’t understand a bloody word she said.
Yet, there was still absolutely no sign of the one word he needed to hear if he was going to stop this. And he thanked the gods every second as he began to take her with long, powerful, and incredibly hard strokes.
Although Elina still struggled to get her arms free, her hips were slamming back against his as he took her with, even he had to admit, absolutely no charm whatsoever.
It was true. He’d always known it. When it came to sex, no matter how much Celyn might fight it, he was and always would be a Cadwaladr. Which meant one thing . . . he liked a bit of fight from his bed partners. He wanted them to go down swinging. He wanted to wake up in the mornings scratched, scarred, and sore.
And, much to his eternal surprise, Elina was one of those partners. She snarled, she screamed, she threatened, she said things in her own language that he was positive he never wanted to know the meaning of. She, in short, put up one hell of a fight . . . but she never said no. Or stop.
So he fucked her, hard, while she fought. And he kept his own orgasm at bay—as bloody hard as that was—until he ripped that climax from her.
Her screams didn’t scare off the birds, but he sensed they now had an audience of animals, watching the superior beings do what they mostly did during mating season.
Celyn continued to fuck her through that orgasm and when he could tell she was fighting off another one, her body too sensitive to go through it again, he pulled back his hand and slapped her ass. Her pussy clenched his cock like a vise and they both exploded, his head back, flames bursting from his throat, a few of the viewing birds singed before they managed to take to the air.
Wrung dry, the pair landed hard on the ground, Celyn now spooning Elina from behind.
Trying to catch their breath, they lay there for so long that Celyn lost track of time. That is, until Elina noted, “You are still hard inside me.”
Celyn nodded, then realized she couldn’t see that. “Aye,” he finally answered.
“How is that possible?”
“I am dragon,” he answered honestly. “Anything is possible. We’re that amazing.”
“Are you?” she asked, seconds before her elbow came back and rammed into his face.
“Ow! You mad cow!”
Suddenly Celyn was flat on his back and Elina was on top of him, his cock inside her again, her small hand trying to wrap itself around his throat.
“Then show me,” she ordered him. “Show me how amazing the dragon is.”
It was the way she rolled her tongue when she said “dragon” that had Celyn gripping Elina by her shoulders and throwing her to her back. He held her down by pinning her arms above her head and unceremoniously shoved his cock inside her.
“I can show you whatever you want,” he told her as he fucked her hard. “I’m just not sure you can take it all.”
“I am Daughter of Steppes,” she reminded him, seconds before she managed to pull one of her hands away and dragged her nails across his chest, leaving bloody claw marks. “I can take anything.”
Celyn really hoped that was true. Because they had hours before the suns would rise and he wasn’t the least bit tired . . .
Chapter Twenty-One
“Get up, lazy dragon. We must ride.”
“No,” Celyn told her flatly, turning onto his side. “Take a turn with your hand and leave me be.”
“I mean ride our horses . . . out of here.”
Celyn opened his eyes, then quickly closed them again when the rays of the two suns nearly blinded him.
Gods, he felt like he’d been drinking all night. But he hadn’t. Although he almost wished he’d been doing that instead. He’d feel less pain . . . and probably less used.
