18. Ecco

18

ECCO

G raeme's mouth on mine is hard and unyielding. Angry. Demanding.

I gasp in response, fireworks exploding behind my eyes. He takes advantage of my lips opening, sliding his tongue into my mouth.

A needy, uncontrolled moan works its way out of my throat. His skin is ice cold to the touch, and I shiver in response, though I'm not sure if it's his cold skin or the way he's touching me. I've never felt anything like this before, and the need is so powerful, so all-consuming I'm almost afraid of giving in to it.

Half of my mind is frustrated and furious with him, like he clearly is with me. He's suspicious of everything, always seeing the bad in the world. Humorless and unfriendly. A big grouch.

And so freaking bossy. I really don't like people telling me what to do.

But the other half of my mind turned into an aroused puddle of goo in town hall the moment he pulled my body against his, and has been that way ever since.

I should've been scared senseless by the stalker, but all I could focus on was the way Graeme snapped into protector mode.

The strength in his arms as he pulled me tight. The feel of his rock hard body pressed against mine, the way he angled himself in front of me to protect me from threats. The whisper of his wings as they unfurled around me protectively.

I've never had someone who wanted to defend me like that before.

I didn't know until now how it felt to be… safe.

Wholly, entirely safe.

Gods, I've wanted to kiss Graeme from the minute I laid eyes on him, but I didn't think he'd ever give into this, too.

Now, I run my fingers through his hair, then grasp it, pulling it. He leans into it, his face angling back from mine. I run my tongue up the cold, gray column of his long neck, breathing in his earthy scent as desire twists and releases in my belly.

Then I kiss him again and bite his lower lip, hard. Challenging him. We lock eyes, a spark lighting inside of me, and Graeme growls.

He presses me against the wall, the unyielding stone of his body grinding deliciously against my softness. His hands roam over my curves, gripping my hips, my ass, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"You drive me insane, woman," he rasps against my ear, his breath hot on my skin. "Arguing with me, defying me at every turn. Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

I arch into him, a moan escaping my lips as his hardness presses against my core.

"Why don't you show me, gargoyle?" I challenge, my voice husky with need.

Something snaps in his pale blue eyes, and I swear I can see the last vestiges of his iron control shattering. In one fluid motion, he rips my dress and my bra down the center, baring my body.

The fabric tears like tissue paper under his powerful hands, the sound echoing through the suite. Cool air hits my overheated skin and I gasp, my head falling back against the wall.

Graeme's eyes rake over my exposed flesh, his gaze scorching me to my very core.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he breathes, something like reverence in his voice.

His large, rough hands skim up my sides to cup my breasts. The calluses on his cool palms rasp deliciously against my sensitive nipples. I moan, arching into his touch, all but begging for more.

He answers with a squeeze, his fingers sinking into my soft flesh. Pleasure races through me, liquid heat pooling between my thighs. I rock my hips against him, seeking friction, the hard ridge of his arousal teasing me, delicious but nowhere near enough.

I'm done waiting for what I want. Ready to demand it.

"I think you want to taste me, Graeme. But I don't know if you're up for the challenge."

Graeme's eyes blaze with renewed intensity at my words. His hands slide down to grip my ass again, squeezing the soft flesh as he grinds his hardness against me.

"You have no idea how much I want you, Ecco," he growls. "How much I've ached to touch you, to lick you."

I tremble at the dark promise in his tone, my belly clenching with anticipation. "Then touch me, Graeme," I breathe. "Lick me. Don't stop."

A low, feral sound rumbles from his chest and then his mouth is on me, his lips and tongue blazing a trail of fire down my neck to my breasts. He takes one aching peak into the wet heat of his mouth, sucking hard, his teeth grazing my sensitive flesh and sending jolts of exquisite pleasure straight to my center.

Graeme's hands slide lower, hooking into the waistband of my panties. With a quick tug, the delicate lace rips away, baring me completely to his heated gaze.

"Lie down," he commands, his voice rough with need. "I want to see all of you."

I comply eagerly, sinking back into the plush carpet in front of the fireplace. The enchanted fire casts a soft warmth onto my flushed skin as I spread my legs for him, revealing myself fully to his gaze.

Graeme groans at the sight.

"Gods, you're dripping for me already," he rasps, settling between my thighs. "Your arousal smells sweet and ripe. Like a forbidden fruit, just begging to be devoured."

His words send a fresh surge of desire flooding through me. I moan, rolling my hips up toward his mouth as he lowers his head, his hot breath ghosting over my aching flesh.

"I'm going to eat every inch of you," he promises darkly. "I'm devour you until you're sobbing my name."

With that declaration, he presses an open-mouthed kiss to my clit. I cry out at the first electric touch of his tongue, my hips bucking off the floor. He pins me down with one large hand, the other spreading me wider as he licks a long, slow stripe up my slit.

"Gods, your taste," he groans against my flesh, the vibrations making me whimper. "Ambrosia. The nectar of the gods themselves."

He seals his lips around my throbbing clit and sucks hard, sinking two thick fingers knuckle-deep into my heat.

I thrash and moan in response to every thrust of his fingers, his hot mouth almost bringing me to the brink of release.

With a gasping breath, I ask him to stop.

"Why?" he asks, his head canting to the side. He looks almost… vulnerable.

"Because I don't want you to have all the fun," I say.

Graeme's lips twist into a grin. "You can have whatever you want. Here in this room tonight, anyway."

Of course he had to throw that in.

"I know you'd never give up control in any other circumstance," I say, letting each word drip like my desire for him.

I slowly remove his pants, my fingers trembling with anticipation as I catch sight of his tail rising up behind him, normally concealed by his clothes. Graeme pulls of his shirt at the same time, his large, dark wings unfurling behind him.

His tail is long and surprisingly thick, ending in an arrowhead point. Its sleek, leathery skin matches his wings and glistens in the dim light. A dark surge of desire courses through me at the thought of all the ways I could pleasure it—my mouth eagerly sucking on its length, riding it with wild abandon.

For now, I start by teasing him with feather-light touches along his thighs, then the skin just above his cock, which is absolutely up for it.

I savor his shudders and moans as I trace patterns across his sensitive skin. Finally, unable to resist any longer, I take his enormous cock into my mouth, and it throbs against my tongue. As I work my magic on him, I reach my hand behind him and gently skate my nails along the base of his tail.

His hips buck against me, the head of his cock slamming against the back of my mouth, and I pull my mouth off him with a slick sound, leaning back to look him in the eye as my hands continue to explore every inch of his pulsing tail.

"Naughty Graeme," I purr. He moans, louder and more urgently and I'm sure I'm sopping at the power I'm exercising over him. "Does that feel good?"

"You have no idea, woman," he says. "That's a very sensitive part of my body."

Graeme's hands grip the plush rug beneath us as I slide my mouth back over his cock with more pressure, edging him getting closer to climax.

Before he can come, he pulls at my hair, pulling me off of him.

"I want you to come too," he growls. He moves to one side, pivoting himself until his breath is on my aching center, and then brings his cock back up to my mouth.

His tongue and lips expertly work my clit while my right hand strokes his throbbing length, using my left to tease and tug at his tail. I lick and suck, moving my hands and mouth as one.

Our bodies move in sync, the sound of our moans blending with the crackling fire beside us. One of Graeme's wings curls around us and I look at the hard protrusions at the tip of each pinion and groan. I could do something with those, too.

The mounting pleasure builds to a fever pitch as Graeme's talented mouth and fingers drive me to the brink. My body writhes beneath his ministrations, my hands and mouth tightening around his cock and tail as I near my peak.

Graeme's tail twitches and thrashes in my grip and then we come together, our cries of ecstasy mingling and echoing off the enchanted suite's walls.

Wave after wave of intense, toe-curling pleasure crashes over me as Graeme's skilled tongue coaxes me through my climax. His own release pulses hot and thick into my mouth and I swallow eagerly, savoring the musky, masculine taste of him.

Afterward, Graeme's gentle touch lingers on my skin as he caresses my hair. "You are amazing. Infuriating. Indecent," he whispers.

We lie close to the crackling fire, letting our pulses slow to normal. When we finally pull on pajamas and crawl into bed, Graeme's strong arms wrap around me and his heart thumps against my back.

He falls asleep instantly, but I lay there, torn between wanting this to be a onetime thing, a letting off of all the steam that has been building between us, and craving it again immediately because it was so mind-blowing.

My mind whirls as I lay enveloped in Graeme's protective embrace. The chill of his body, usually so cool and unyielding, is mellowed by our activity, and every place we connect is a balm on my overheated skin.

My eyes trace the shadowed planes of his face, the chiseled angles softened in sleep. In repose, the hard lines of his mouth ease, the perpetual furrow between his brows smoothing out.

He looks younger, more vulnerable, a far cry from the gruff, stoic gargoyle I've come to know.

Even in sleep, Graeme's body curls around mine, shielding me, his powerful wings cocooning us in a world that belongs only to us. His tail drapes heavily across my hips, the smooth skin warming from the heat of my body, the tip twitching lazily. Its comforting weight anchors me, tethering me to this moment, to the security I feel wrapped in his embrace.

Through the gauzy curtains, moonlight spills across the floor, painting everything in a silvery glow. It catches on the iridescent shimmer of Graeme's wings, turning the leathery membrane to mother-of-pearl. I watch, mesmerized, as the delicate play of light shifts with each steady rise and fall of his chest.

Outside, wind swirls the endless snowflakes through the tree branches, and I hear the soft hooting of an owl, the distant tinkle of wind chimes. The inn is quiet, the other guests long since retired to their beds, leaving only the peaceful stillness of the witching hour.

I fall asleep thinking about Graeme flying, the stalker banished—if only temporarily—from my mind.