The Barbarian's Owned(36)

“Arousing your mate on a cliff is dangerous,” he said, the gentle pump of his hips teasing her folds. He’d get her off if he kept it up much longer.

Instead, he eased off the gyrations and slid powerful hands down to her hips, her thighs, massaging her weak legs and teasing his fingers near her sex, but not yet touching her. “You’re still angry at me?”

“Yes.” She groaned, the sleek motion of his shaft sorely missed. She was trying to figure out how to get it back.

“You’re angry because your body knows what your heart hasn’t learned yet,” he taunted.

She tried to reach for his erection, knowing if she got hold of him, she could settle atop him—maybe even push him into her. “And what is it my body knows?”

His powerful arm gripped her wrist, not letting her take hold of him. “That you’re going to stay.” With his other hand, he stroked between her thighs, using one long and electrifying touch to brush her clitoris.

She sucked in a breath, rigid and squeezing her eyes shut. “Smug, arrogant bastard.”

But he was stroking her now, making those brisk, circular motions she’d witnessed through his whisking the night before—a relentless attack on the center of her pleasure that had her hips jerking up into his fingers. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, but couldn’t speak.

She opened her mouth to tell him off, but instead felt his experienced hands bring her aroused body off, and the tirade transformed in her throat into moans.

They echoed off the cliff walls. She came in his arms, shuddering while his fingers changed pace into long, languid strokes that extended her orgasm until she trembled atop him.

“Still mad?”

“Furious,” she panted, body flush and nipples hard, scraping on that confining bra with every up-and-down of her ribcage.

“Admit you want me, and I’ll touch you again.”

She should have been satisfied, but she wasn’t. She didn’t want just his fingers. She wanted to lick, kiss, and tongue with him—to feel his teeth scrape her, to mount him and ride him into a state of bliss, and to feel his riotous pulse through their joined bodies. But two can play this game.

“How about I’ll just touch you for a change.” She dragged a fingernail up the markings on his wrist, along his forearm, and to the dark circle at the inner crook of his elbow.

“Taliyar,” he moaned. He was still rock-hard and in a state of total arousal. Her touch had drawn out a raw ache so deep that his need was more than physical—when he’d spoken that word, it had been a spiritual call.

“You want me to be yours?” she asked softly. “You want me to present to you, to give you myself totally?”

“Yes,” he pleaded.

In her present state, the idea sounded almost delicious. She’d never done that sexual position before, but with Garr, she wanted it; and the fact that giving it to him would bind them forever only added to the eroticism.

Yet she knew it wouldn’t happen unless he also surrendered on one critical thing: “Then admit you belong to me, too,” she whispered, stroking the circle at his inner elbow once more, shifting to peer up at his reaction.

His eyes flew wide. “What?” The shock hadn’t diminished his panting arousal, nor his erection. “I’m your prime, I—”

She dared to close her thighs around his erection, socketing it against her slit, so that when she moved her hips, it stroked his full length. The pleasure cut him off, choked away his voice, and she remembered how the dark ley lines of his body also include markings on his cock.

Waiting for his eyes to open, she met his gaze from over her shoulder. “You may be prime, but if you want to own my body, I want to own yours too. That’s how it works with humans.”

Was she really offering herself to him? Agreeing to stay if he’d only love her like a human?

His chest rose and fell, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Rae reached down between her thighs and circled the dark ring around the head of his erection with her light touch. “Belonging to one another isn’t so bad if you just—”

He seized her wrist, aghast.

Had she done something wrong? Glancing at his hand, which dragged hers from touching him, she assessed his arousal. He was still hard, still hungry. But he hadn’t been prepared for that simple touch. “What’s wrong?”

“You—you cannot just touch a male like that.”

She guffawed. “Why not? You’re touching me like that.” She wanted to respect his wishes, of course, but it seemed absurd.

“It’s… females don’t do this. It’s forbidden.”