He couldn’t wait another second to fuck her.
Ronan thrust hard and deep, a shout erupting from his throat as her tight heat accepted him. He lay over her, panting through the intense pleasure. Naya arched her shapely back and rocked against him. He pulled out, grabbing his cock in his hand as he slid the crown against the tight bud of Naya’s clit. The sensation was intense for both of them and Naya’s limbs trembled as he repeated the action. He guided his cock back to her entrance and thrust home, eliciting a cry of passion from his mate as he pulled out again, teasing them both with the contact, only to sheath himself in her welcoming warmth once again.
Naya fisted the cushion of the chair, grinding against him as little desperate mewls of sound burst from her lips. Ronan’s pace increased, his own breath sawing in and out of his chest as he fucked her with all the desperation of a male about to get his final glimpse of life. His want for her would never slacken. He would never not be starved for her. She was his air, his sustenance, the very thing that kept him alive. His fingertips dug into Naya’s soft hips as he fucked her, each punishing thrust a claim on her body. She reached back and clutched his thigh, her nails biting into the flesh, marking him as hers. Nothing—no one—would ever come between them.
A low moan built in Naya’s throat as her sex clenched around Ronan’s shaft. A tremor rippled through her body and she called out as she came, a string of words in that strange esoteric language that brought magic to life in her palm. Rose gold dust painted Naya’s body as her pussy constricted around him, milking him and drawing him deep. Pressure built in his sac, working its way up the thick length of his cock, and Ronan bent over her. He buried his fangs in the juncture of her throat and shoulder and the skin gave way with a pop as his orgasm burst upon him, sending seismic waves of sensation through his body.
Another orgasm claimed Naya at the same time. “Ronan!” His name burst from her lips with all of the sanctity of a prayer as she came. For long moments they cleaved to each other and Ronan continued to move over her with slow, shallow thrusts that left them both shaking and panting for breath.
“This chair is officially christened,” he teased low in her ear. He withdrew from her body as he closed the punctures at her throat.
Naya melted over the arm of the chair, her tiny form shuddering with each breath. “One piece of furniture down,” she panted as she brought her head up to look around, “ten or twelve more pieces to go.”
Ronan let out a soft chuckle as he rolled onto the chair and gathered Naya up in his lap. “I promise you, love, by sundown the entire place will be properly used. I don’t plan to let you put a stitch of clothing on until it’s absolutely necessary.”
“Oh, really?” Her voice was a sensual purr that Ronan felt on every inch of his skin. “Even while we’re cooking? Eating?”
Ronan nuzzled her throat as his hand came around to cup her full breast. Naya’s breath left in a soft sigh that stirred his cock. “Who says we’re going to stop for food? I have all of the sustenance I need right here.”
He tugged at her nipple and Naya let out a sensual moan. His opposite hand searched for the juncture of her thighs, sliding over the slick flesh of her still-swollen pussy. “Funny,” she said as she flung a leg over the arm of the chair, opening her legs for him, “I was thinking the exact same thing.”
Ah, gods. This was bound to be the best day of Ronan’s existence.
CHAPTER
37
“I don’t want you here. Let Jenner take you home.”
Home. After a blissful twelve hours of daylight shut up with her mate, Ronan’s penthouse had definitely begun to feel like home. Though he could have lived in a cave or a ramshackle old shed on the outskirts of town and it would have been home. Because wherever Ronan happened to be was Naya’s home. And nothing would ever change that.
The building they stood before looked like it would be better off demolished. It seemed a strange place to meet the dhampir female whose reputation was far grander than the building she chose to live in. “I’m not going anywhere,” Naya replied. She caressed the hilt of her dagger and shifted her weight to the balls of her feet. “We’re a package deal now. Where you go, I go. Your fights are mine.”
“Together, then,” Ronan said.
He led the way into the building and up several flights of stairs. The place was certainly creepy. Their footsteps were amplified in the quiet, and every shadow that formed in the dusky gray of twilight caused Naya’s senses to go on high alert. They’d ventured into enemy territory and Naya was about to publicly challenge a claim that another female made on her mate. Of course, she’d agreed to let Ronan take the lead and negotiate his freedom first. But if that didn’t work, Naya was more than ready to kick a little ass.