“I’m going to c*m,” the warlord confesses in a shaky growl, his damp sweaty temple pressing on his mate’s. His whole body is bunched up in complete tension and concentration, heartbeat pounding against her chest.
“What?” he feels her face turn, lips brushing over his ear and he shudders, suddenly hypersensitive to even the subtlest of her touches. “You’re not even in.”
Hadrius pauses then chuckles, a slight hue of frustration clouding his mountain cut cheekbones. He lifts his head briefly and peers down at their point of connection, only the tip is in her tight channel, and she grips him like a vice, radiating heat like that of a brick oven. Hadrius shuts his eyes, a drop of sweat collecting by the tip of his nose and falling with a soft tap onto the hollow of her throat.
“That good, hu
