Four-Letter Words by Evans, Gabrielle (top 10 books of all time .txt) 📗

skim along his crease, parting his ass cheeks with two slippery fingers. With unerring accuracy, Thane located his clenching hole and ringed the tight muscles, encouraging them to relax before pushing into Zasha’s channel with both fingers. “How about now?”

Zasha could only moan in response as he arched his spine, rocking back into his lover’s hand to impale himself on the thick digits. His dick hardened, throbbing between his thighs while drops of pre-cum smeared his skin.

The breath against his neck came in short, choppy pants as Thane undulated behind him, grinding against Zasha’s backside while he twisted his wrist and pumped his fingers in a desperate rhythm. “Want you, lieveling.”

The hunger in Thane’s gravelly tone sent a shiver up Zasha’s spine, and his pulse picked up in rhythm, each beat of his heart thundering loudly in his ears. Rolling to face his mate, he fisted both hands in Thane’s short hair, jerking him into a hard, searching kiss. The surge of adrenaline caused his fangs to descend, punching violently through his gums to pierce Thane’s bottom lip.

“Oops.” He laughed breathlessly as he flicked his tongue over the swollen flesh, lapping the droplets of blood away.

The sweet crimson didn’t drive him mad as it had done before. The taste and scent was no longer a source of panic. Now that he was free of his insecurities, unconcerned with keeping a part of himself locked away and protected, Thane’s blood was a powerful aphrodisiac and nothing more.

“I love the way you laugh.” Thane skimmed his nose up the curve of Zasha’s throat and along the slope of his jaw. “Love the way you smell.” His tongue traced the seam of Zasha’s lips. “Love the way you taste.” He slipped his hand between their dampened bodies, fisting Zasha’s cock and stroking him from root to tip, pulling a ragged moan from deep in his chest. “Oh, yeah,” Thane chuckled. “Definitely love that.”

“Thane?”

“Yes?”

Zasha pushed at his lover’s shoulders, flipping Thane to his back and straddling him. “You talk too much.”

There was a lot of groaning, grunting, growling, and keening after that, but not much in the way of actual words. Reversing their positions and pressing Zasha facedown on the mattress, Thane covered his back as he licked and sucked at the skin on Zasha’s nape. Long fingers bit into the flesh around his hips, holding him in a possessive grip and jerking his ass into the air.

“You are mine,” Thane growled at the same moment the flared crown of his cock penetrated Zasha’s opening.

“And you are mine,” Zasha countered, bracing his hands on the bed and rocking back into his lover until Thane was seated to the hilt. The burn was minimal, the pleasure overwhelming, and his desire increased tenfold when Thane gripped the back of his neck, securely holding him in place as he began a slow, torturous tempo.

As the rhythm and intensity increased, the hand around his neck crept into his hair, fisting the short locks and jerking Zasha’s head back on his shoulders. The demanding tug forced him to bow his back, and the new position changed the angle, ensuring each bone-jarring thrust pegged against his prostate.

Sounds somewhere between a growl and a whimper escaped his dry, swollen lips, and Zasha tangled his fingers in the sheets in an attempt to ground himself as he was barrel-rolled beneath a tidal wave of pleasure. When he was sure he had reached his limit and couldn’t take any more, Thane’s free hand slid up his chest to pinch and tug at each of his nipples in turn. Thane twisted and pulled at the hard nubs, creating a deep burn that radiated throughout Zasha’s entire body.

“Oh, someone likes that,” Thane teased him. The brazen lust in his voice, however, said he was just as aroused from giving that hint of pain as Zasha was from receiving it.

Falling forward to cover his back, Thane drove in deep, burying his pulsing cock in Zasha’s depths as he bit down hard on the side of his neck. “Come for me.” The words were slightly muffled but still filled with an authority Zasha couldn’t fight.

His muscles tensed, his spine stiffened, and his entire body went rigid as he growled through his orgasm, painting the sheets beneath him with a flood of sticky cream. The tightening of his inner walls around Thane’s length must have done good things for his lover, because the man went completely wild. Groaning and bucking, he thrust through his own release in shaky, uncoordinated movements, filling Zasha’s channel with hot, wet, semen.

“Well, that’s one way to wake up,” Zasha commented several minutes later.

“It’s the only way to wake up,” Thane amended. He nuzzled against Zasha’s neck and kissed his cheek. “I have to meet my brothers in about an hour.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No.” The answer was short and clipped, but after a moment, Thane sighed and pulled Zasha into his arms, holding him close to his chest. “We’re going to interrogate some of the witches. I doubt it’s going to be pleasant, and I don’t want you there for that.”

“Thane, I’ve seen ugly. I’m not so fragile.”

“It’s not about that.” Thane shook his head and wrinkled his brow. “You’re my peace, lieveling. You give me balance. If I can shelter you from the wicked things in the world, I will, because you are my safe haven, my home. Does that make sense?”

“I get it.” He stroked his lover’s chest and grinned. Thane needed one thing in his life to remain untouched by the curse that plagued him and his brothers. As protectors of the Book of The Banished, they were constantly at war, forever fighting against those who were thirsty for power. “I make everything right in your world. I’m the light at the end of your dark tunnel.”

“Exactly. You are the beacon that calls me home. You are the only thing that makes sense.”

Thane was his strength, and in return, he was his mate’s peace. There was a