His head reared back inches, shock and hope and gratitude mixed together in his expression. His hand cupped her face, tilting her head back as his mouth reached for hers. His lips were warm with the right pressure, demanding she open to him without bullying her on it.
This was connection, soul-deep and scary in how right it was. His wings came around her, wrapping her tightly in an embrace more all-consuming than any that only consisted of arms. Those wings brought them together, sinking skin into skin and even that wasn’t nearly close enough.
“Your lips are so soft,” he said, pulling back the tiniest bit, as if parting hurt him. “All of you is so soft.”
He didn’t take her mouth again, but pressed his lips against the underside of her chin. With exquisite slowness he made his way down the side of her throat, only moving further down after every inch had been explored.
She groaned. “Terak, what are you doing to me?”
He loved her breathy voice. He loved everything about her, but he especially loved she was now in his arms. “Do not humans enjoy this?” He licked her pulse point, the texture of the skin under his tongue a wonderful sensation. “Or this? Shall I tell you what gargoyles enjoy, little human? What a male will do when he has a female in his arms that he has dreamed about since the first moment he saw her?”
Her breathless “Show me” almost dropped him to his knees. Instead, he stepped back and pulled her shirt from her pants, ripping the front and causing buttons to scatter everywhere. “I hurt every time I left you. You had me wanting, and it felt that I would never be at ease again.”
Her smile had an edge. She liked the torment she had put him through. “I guess I need to make that up to you.”
His clawed fingers traced the edge of lace on her bra. It was blue, the same blue of her eyes, and it offered her up to his mouth those plump, mouthwatering mounds. “Wearing this, Meyja, is apology enough.”
He leaned down, his tongue tracing the edge of the lace. Her head fell backwards, offering him complete access to what he desired. “I love your tongue. I love how warm you are.” She shook her head, as though trying to clear it. “What does Meyja mean?”
Coward he might be, but he wasn’t ready to tell her yet. He could not chance her feelings not being the same as his, or worse, that they were, but she could not go against her family to accept him. “I will tell you when after we defeat our enemy. This way you will have something pleasant to obsess over in the coming days.”
Her frown told him what she thought of that, but there were ways to distract her. He stroked his claws over her stomach to her waistband and pulled the pants down her long legs.
She stood before him, bare except her undergarments. He needed to bury his face between her legs, let her taste dance on his tongue. She was warm and sweet and he needed her more than the air he breathed.
He picked her up, coming to his feet and carrying her to her bedroom. “Terak?” she asked, but stopped when he put her down on the bed.
“Shh, Meyja. Let me do this. I need you.”
He nuzzled her through her blue panties, her little coils of hair crushing beneath his nose as breathed deep her intoxicating fragrance.
His tongue came out and pushed against her through her panties. She groaned, wrapping her hands in his hair and holding on as if it was her only source of stability. “Oh gods yes, I do love that tongue.”
He pulled the underwear to the side, and swiped his tongue over her bare sex.
Her cries dimly registered in his ears. She was pink and perfect, sweet with an undercurrent of tang.
Very much how she was in all other ways.
He wanted to take his time, bring her satisfaction over and over. His tongue moved on her and brought a long, keening cry to her lips. “Terak! Please.”
“Please what?”
“I want to come. I want to come when it isn’t my own hand bringing me satisfaction.”
The thought of her touching herself flashed through his mind and he growled. She would do that for him one day soon.
But not now. Now she would come because of his tongue.
The little nub at the top of her sex was glistening, beckoning him. He surrounded it with his mouth, giving gentle pulls that had her gasping.
“Yes, Terak. Like that.”
He pulled a little harder.
“I was wrong before. Just like that.”
He smiled, and then went to work. She had the most decadent taste he had ever experienced, water after having survived crossing the desert.
The muscles in her thighs jumped under his hand, giving proof to her excitement. Her groans grew in volume, begging him to finish it, to bring her satisfaction.
Finally she keened, her back arching as the tremors against his tongue spoke of her climax.