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Book: Brutish Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 4) by Rachael Slate
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Authors: Rachael Slate
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protesting squeals, and marched from the dining hall, amidst the hollering of his brothers, straight to their chamber.
He twisted open the knob, strode inside, and kicked the door shut, locking it behind them. “You might regret not finishing your meal, nymph. I’ve a mind to lock you in here for several days.”
“Don’t you dare,” she rapped her fists against his back, “make me promises you don’t intend to keep.”
He chuckled and set her on her feet, seizing the back of her head and slanting his mouth across hers. Demanding, his tongue thrust against hers, savoring every inch of her luscious taste.
She hummed and tangled her fingers in his locks.
“Sweet nymph,” he growled into her mouth. She coaxed his arousal to unbearable limits.
Her hands grasped for his cock, but not yet. He slid down her body, lifting her skirts and ducking beneath them. Warm, slick flesh greeted his tongue as he flicked it across her bud, drawing sultry moans from her lips.
Crouching, he coaxed her onto the edge of the bed and then fell forward to his knees, her legs wrapping around his shoulders while he feasted on her. Lapping at her honey, he swirled his tongue and nipped at her silken skin. She collapsed backward onto the mattress, her legs parting wide for him and her hands falling to her sides. He slipped two fingers inside her, pumping in time to the flicks of his tongue. Her sheath clenched in tiny spasms around him.
Must be inside her.
The urge to spill his seed inside his mate pounded through him, fiercer than any lustful inclination he’d ever experienced. He wrenched his mouth off her, flipped her onto her stomach, and shoved down his breeches, freeing his hard length. She poised her glistening pink sex for him as he positioned himself at her entrance and drove deep.
A cry parted her lips, pleasure and shock mingled, and she whimpered, “Dear gods, don’t stop, Oreius.”
The instincts didn’t release their hold on him, so he propelled harder, deeper, faster. They were both still clothed, and all he viewed was her lush bottom, her creamy skin flushed from the tempered swats of his hand.
The impulsive, rough, demanding compulsion to claim every inch of a female had never struck him like this. A ripple of contractions clenched his erection and Nysa screamed. His ballocks tightened and burst, spurting forth his essence.
Tossing his head back, he roared, pumping everything he had into her.
My mate.
The last tremors dissipated from his muscles, and he pulled from her, staring down at his handiwork. Nysa rested limp on the bed before him, her skirts crumpled around her bared waist, and her lush thighs parted to reveal her silken flesh, glistening from their lovemaking.
Intense satiation flooded him. I did this. Brought my mate to shrieking pleasure, poured my seed into her.
She lay panting, smothered in his scent. Exactly as a mate should be. He smirked at her.
“Pleased with yourself, are you, centaur?” She arched a brow.
“Aye, mate, immensely.”
The smug smile curving Oreius’s lips just might be her undoing. He studied her disheveled state with the achievement of a male profoundly gratified.
Nysa wanted to purse her lips and scoff at his absurd satisfaction, but the male appeared so damned proud of himself. Of what he’d done to her.
Of how he’d made her scream.
Instead, she shuddered in delight and fluttered her lashes. Her male deserved to gloat over his victory.
He hadn’t even finished undressing before ravishing her. His thick, rigid length jutted above his breeches, and he still wore his vest.
She was equally clothed, bared only from the waist down.
Nysa rolled onto her back and curled her fingers, beckoning him forward. “Was that your worst?”
“Damn near close.” Raking his hands through his mussed locks, he cast her a roguish grin. He tore off the remainder of his clothes and crawled atop her. “My worst might destroy us both.”
She rolled her eyes at his cocksure
He twisted open the knob, strode inside, and kicked the door shut, locking it behind them. “You might regret not finishing your meal, nymph. I’ve a mind to lock you in here for several days.”
“Don’t you dare,” she rapped her fists against his back, “make me promises you don’t intend to keep.”
He chuckled and set her on her feet, seizing the back of her head and slanting his mouth across hers. Demanding, his tongue thrust against hers, savoring every inch of her luscious taste.
She hummed and tangled her fingers in his locks.
“Sweet nymph,” he growled into her mouth. She coaxed his arousal to unbearable limits.
Her hands grasped for his cock, but not yet. He slid down her body, lifting her skirts and ducking beneath them. Warm, slick flesh greeted his tongue as he flicked it across her bud, drawing sultry moans from her lips.
Crouching, he coaxed her onto the edge of the bed and then fell forward to his knees, her legs wrapping around his shoulders while he feasted on her. Lapping at her honey, he swirled his tongue and nipped at her silken skin. She collapsed backward onto the mattress, her legs parting wide for him and her hands falling to her sides. He slipped two fingers inside her, pumping in time to the flicks of his tongue. Her sheath clenched in tiny spasms around him.
Must be inside her.
The urge to spill his seed inside his mate pounded through him, fiercer than any lustful inclination he’d ever experienced. He wrenched his mouth off her, flipped her onto her stomach, and shoved down his breeches, freeing his hard length. She poised her glistening pink sex for him as he positioned himself at her entrance and drove deep.
A cry parted her lips, pleasure and shock mingled, and she whimpered, “Dear gods, don’t stop, Oreius.”
The instincts didn’t release their hold on him, so he propelled harder, deeper, faster. They were both still clothed, and all he viewed was her lush bottom, her creamy skin flushed from the tempered swats of his hand.
The impulsive, rough, demanding compulsion to claim every inch of a female had never struck him like this. A ripple of contractions clenched his erection and Nysa screamed. His ballocks tightened and burst, spurting forth his essence.
Tossing his head back, he roared, pumping everything he had into her.
My mate.
The last tremors dissipated from his muscles, and he pulled from her, staring down at his handiwork. Nysa rested limp on the bed before him, her skirts crumpled around her bared waist, and her lush thighs parted to reveal her silken flesh, glistening from their lovemaking.
Intense satiation flooded him. I did this. Brought my mate to shrieking pleasure, poured my seed into her.
She lay panting, smothered in his scent. Exactly as a mate should be. He smirked at her.
“Pleased with yourself, are you, centaur?” She arched a brow.
“Aye, mate, immensely.”
The smug smile curving Oreius’s lips just might be her undoing. He studied her disheveled state with the achievement of a male profoundly gratified.
Nysa wanted to purse her lips and scoff at his absurd satisfaction, but the male appeared so damned proud of himself. Of what he’d done to her.
Of how he’d made her scream.
Instead, she shuddered in delight and fluttered her lashes. Her male deserved to gloat over his victory.
He hadn’t even finished undressing before ravishing her. His thick, rigid length jutted above his breeches, and he still wore his vest.
She was equally clothed, bared only from the waist down.
Nysa rolled onto her back and curled her fingers, beckoning him forward. “Was that your worst?”
“Damn near close.” Raking his hands through his mussed locks, he cast her a roguish grin. He tore off the remainder of his clothes and crawled atop her. “My worst might destroy us both.”
She rolled her eyes at his cocksure
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