By the Orchid and the Owl by Mariah Montoya

Author:Mariah Montoya [Montoya, Mariah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Driftwyrd
Published: 2024-04-03T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

25

It was hungrier than last time, this kiss.

Coen wasn’t just filling me, but demanding me, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth before he withdrew just enough to whisper against my lips, “Has anyone touched you here before?”

I shuddered against the scrape of his fingers over my breasts—above my shirt, but hard enough to make them pebble against him.

“Yes,” I breathed.

Wilder had touched me through my clothes back in Alderwick, but it had never felt like this. Coen tutted and said, “Let’s get his name out of your head, shall we? I only want mine inside you right now.”

He moved his hands lower. For a thigh-clenching moment, I thought he was going to dip all the way down… but then his hands dug beneath my shirt and rose up again, stroking me skin-to-skin, finding my bra and sweeping around to unclip me from behind. And then his bare hands were cupping me, his thumbs making circles around my peaks.

“How about this?” he asked, his drawl fading away as something more urgent took its place.

I managed to shake my head. “Not… not exactly.”

My hips rose to meet his body as if against my will, and I felt it, then. His own desire, hard and large and unyielding. I tipped my head back at the pressure, at the need for more, closing my eyes against the brilliance of a million gemstones.

Coen heard me. He always heard me. His hands snaked down my ribcage and latched onto the apex of my thighs over my pants, but it wasn’t enough.

“So impatient,” he murmured against my neck.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be if you went a little faster.”

I didn’t even know what I was saying, just that I was letting whatever came to mind spill out of my mouth and into his.

At my words, his hands yanked down my pants and the scrap of lace beneath. The cave air bit into me, chilling me, but he pressed himself fully against me until his body heat had stifled any trace of the cold.

“What about here?” he said. “Has anyone ever touched you here?”

One of his hands cupped the back of my neck, holding me in place, while the other… the other spread each of my thighs apart, one by one, and slid down to where I ached and throbbed and needed him. His fingers found their mark.

No. No one had ever touched me there, but I could revel in it forever, the pressure and movement of his fingers pushing further and further into me until…

I couldn’t suck in a breath fast enough. Couldn’t get enough of this.

“Is this enough experimentation for you?” Coen asked, tilting his head as if it was such an innocent little question. As if his own hunger wasn’t sparking in his eyes.

“No,” I choked out. “Not… not nearly enough.” My fingers scrabbled at his back as his fingers moved inside me, exploring my body from the inside-out. He was staring at me, now, a look of utter fascination stealing over his whole face.

I stared back, realizing with a jolt that Coen Steeler was….

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