He lowered his head to her shoulder, his whiskers rasping against her skin. She shivered, the desire to play one game fading as the desire to begin another filled her. “That’s just evil.”
“Your point being?”
Every thought left her head as he licked one of her exposed nipples, tasted it, savored it until it was a diamond point against his tongue. When she took his head in her hands and guided him to her other breast he took the hint, loving on both nipples equally. She whined, ready to beg him for anything he was willing to give if only he’d quench the fire he’d caused to rage inside her.
Morgan delved beneath the edge of her panties, stroking her clit with sure, even strokes that sent her over the edge with a startled cry.
He didn’t let up, not for a second, his fingers and tongue just…just…
“Oh, god, Morgan. Right there.”
He was too much, and it wasn’t enough, and soon she was keening in pleasure again as the orgasm ripped through her.
He lifted his hand from her body, licking his fingers clean as she watched, enraptured by his every move. The heat in his gaze threatened to burn her as he took her mouth. The faint taste of her pleasure lingered on his tongue.
They were both sheened with sweat, her panties and bra taken off her and tossed to the floor as he tasted her pussy, the want and need growing with each stroke of his fingers, each flick of his tongue.
“So sweet. I knew you’d be sweet.” He feasted on her, his expression at once tender and hungry.
She sucked in a breath at his voice, the need and desire inside him overwhelming her. “More.”
“And more, and more.” He smiled down at her as his cock nudged her opening. She gripped the edge of the table, bracing herself for what was coming. “Anything for you.” He kissed her, his mouth hard and hot on hers. “You look like a debauched angel.”
“Come inside me, Morgan.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, reveling in the way he shuddered at her touch. “Make me yours.”
“No one else gets you but me from now on.”
“Never again, Morgan.” He’d ruined her for other men, and he hadn’t even entered her fully yet.
He slid into her, the hard, hot length of him joining them together. “Stay with me.”
She tightened around him, enjoying the way his big warrior’s body shook. “What about you? Does anyone else get you?”
“Hell no.” He leaned down and took her mouth. “You’re it for me.”
She looked up into his eyes and read the truth there. He loved her. He probably always had, and that knowledge settled everything for her. She would stay, would be with her lover, her warrior.
It was her fate, and she embraced it gladly.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and gave in to the one thing she’d wanted all her life. “Love me, Morgan.”
He shuddered. “Yes. Yes, Skye.”
He started moving, dragging that hot cock of his in and out of her body, shutting her mind down to everything but the sensations he gifted her with. His fingers plucked at her nipples, the twinge of pain and pleasure zooming straight down to her clit. She held on to his arms for dear life, the sharp edge of orgasm closer and closer to cutting her open, exposing forever the heart he’d always owned, if only he’d known it.
His eyes scrunched closed, his movements becoming more and more uncoordinated. “Come for me, Skye. C’mon, baby. Come for me.”
His thumb stroked her clit once, twice, three times and she screamed. Her nails dug into his arms as the orgasm shook her whole body. She shuddered beneath him, her legs pulling him into her as she convulsed around him.
His body locked, his limbs quivered and a groan escaped his mouth. He came, filling her with his warmth, his expression a grimace of pleasure. He leaned down until his forehead touched the tabletop, his panting breaths hot against her neck.
“Morgan, we need… Aw, man.”
Her eyes flew open in horror as Magnus’s voice washed over her, the amused disgust not helping her embarrassment one little bit. That Morgan had frozen, bent over, his softening cock still half inside her, told her that he wasn’t handling his brother’s sudden intrusion any better than she was.
When Magnus spoke again, it took everything in her not to buck Morgan off her with her laughter. “Shit, dude. I mean, c’mon. I eat there.”
Morgan flicked his brother the finger, but not once did he lift himself off her body. “What do you want, asshole?”
“Asshole? I’m the asshole? You’ve traumatized my Cheerios!”
Morgan lifted his head just far enough that he could share a look with Skye, the laughter almost breaking free as they gazed at one another. “Why did you come back?”
“Logan and Kir want to powwow at their place, but I’d suggest you both put on pants before strolling over.” As Magnus made to leave the condo, out of the corner of her eye she caught him shaking his head. “What is it with this family and fucking in kitchens?” He shook his finger at them as he strode out the door. “This right here is why I eat out!”
The door slammed shut behind him, and they burst into laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.
Chapter Eight
“Damn it, it doesn’t work!”
Skye flinched as Magnus punched the wall, rattling the entire condo in his rage. How he didn’t put a hole in the drywall was beyond her. Perhaps Logan had done more than just ward the brothers’ condo. Outside, lighting flashed from cloud to cloud as the son of Thor lost his temper. They’d had the pendant for a week, and nothing, absolutely nothing had happened.
“Magnus, calm down.” Morgan’s gaze wasn’t on his twin, but on her. “You’re scaring Skye.”
Magnus snarled and held up the silver pendant. “Are you fucking kidding me? Who cares about Skye?” He ignored Morgan’s answering growl and shook the pendant. “Mjolnir is fucking broken.”
“It is not.” Morgan moved until he stood between her and his brother. She didn’t doubt for one single second that Magnus Grimm—no, Tate now—would cut off his own arm rather than hurt her or his brother, but Morgan didn’t appear to be taking any chances. “We just haven’t figured out how to activate it yet.”
Skye had an idea or two, if only the stubborn brothers would stop yelling at each other and start listening. “Um, could I—”
“It’s ours now. It should be working fine. But no, we’re stuck with a piece of fucking campy jewelry. When Odin comes for us we can bat our lashes and flash our bling. Who knows, maybe we’ll blind him!” Magnus tossed the pendant toward the fireplace, ignoring the crash as the silvery, opalescent glass tiles shattered. Damn. It was one of the nicest fireplaces she’d seen in a while too.
Who’d have thought that Morgan and Magnus Gri—Tate would have modern tastes? The clean lines of the tan sectional sofa were offset by the focus wall of polished wood. Orange curtains and pillows were the only pops of color. Even the end tables were boxy, gleaming wood that matched the wood wall the sofa was against.
The fireplace jutted out slightly into the room, and the brothers had painted it the same orange tone as the curtains and pillows, while the mantelpiece and surround matched the wood tones of the accent wall. The rest of the walls were pale beige. The wooden floors were a lighter color than the focal wall and the end tables, contrasting them and picking up the orange tones scattered throughout the room. It was sleek and modern, yet warm at the same time.
She was certain it was far more Magnus’s taste than Morgan’s. She wondered how hard he’d argued with his brother for the orange colors that permeated the condo.