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“Now who’s having a hard time controlling themself?”

My eyes roll up, my back arching and toes curling. I’m panting, twitching in time with the snap of his hips.

His hands slide over me, his breathless voice giving away how much he’s enjoying himself. “Say my name, magician. Beg for it.”

“Valen!” I cry out, hips bucking but not getting the reprieve I need to slow my building pleasure.

He’s growing harder, thicker, and I shiver when the last of my tension slips away. He strikes deep, and my resulting cry of pleasure echoes.

He moans, sucking my neck as he grinds into me like he’s savoring every inch of being buried inside. I spasm, and his hips rock, teasing that spot he’s found until my body clenches around him rhythmically.

His fingers trail up my straining erection, pleasure flooding my system with my body willing and open for his use. Then they leave and realization hits me. “You’re not going to stroke me?”

He laughs, his eyes so bright they reflect in the white porcelain. “Beg for it.”

Then his hips snap as he picks up the same hard pace as before, but he’s deeper, my body even more sensitive, and my cries fill the space. But no matter what I say, he doesn’t stroke me, and my cock strains from neglect. I can’t stop trembling, goosebumps that have nothing to do with the coolness of his magic tingling down my legs as he pins me in place to take all of him. My orgasm is coming too soon, but I can’t tip over. Not without a hand pumping me. But he refuses, moaning and sucking my neck.

I can’t stand it. I need to be touched and if he won’t do it, then I’ll break his magical hold on me and do it myself.

My rings flicker with a twinge, and Valen’s gaze snaps to my hand on his shoulder. The anger that tightens his features has me gasping, throbbing on him. With a low growl, he slides a hand around my throat. “Don’t you dare.”

My eyes widen, and I convulse. Valen slows his hips, his eyes meeting mine before searching my face. He wets his lips and loosens his hold in question, his magic on my arms releasing.

I let go of his shoulder and snatch his wrist. I keep him there, staring deep into his eyes as I shift his hold higher on my neck. “Do it.”

His eyes dart to the bruises from Alasdair choking me and back. “Are you sure?”

My heart hammers and I nod. “Make me forget.”

Thank all the gods in existence that Valen understands. His expression shifts, his irises nearly white, as he tightens his hold. “I won’t go too hard. You need to heal.”

“I won’t break.” I use my grip on his wrist to encourage him to push, but he resists.

“I am aware, but I have no desire to see where that line lies.” His thumb and fingers squeeze against the sides, and my hips jerk with the jolt of resulting pleasure. “Trust me. I’ll give you what you need without damaging you.”

He pants. “Drop the mirror if you need me to stop.”

Valen’s hand tightens, and I jerk in his hold. Oh fuck, he’s good. He’s so damn good. I’m going to come first without him stroking me, and I barely care. I tremble, my body pulsing. Valen moans, lengthening his thrusts so he can slam back in harder and harder, “Lucas, oh, fuck.”

I convulse, the mirror in my hand rattling.

“Do you like that? Do you like being my favorite human to fuck and play with?”

I choke, hips jerking with the needy, aching throbs. I do. I really do, my pride be damned. I need him to come. I want to feel him.

“Oh fucking hell, Lucas. Take it. Fucking take all of me.”

Then his hand releases my throat, and I suck in air like I’m resurfacing from the depths of the ocean. Pleasure slams into me, wiping out my mind, darkening my vision, as Valen cries out, the sound echoing all around. He’s coming, trembling and gasping. I clutch him desperately, practically sobbing as my own orgasm slams into me, Valen stroking that pleasurable spot over and over as we both become lost in the moment.

The mirror slips from my hand and crashes into the porcelain, shards going everywhere. Valen stops, jerking back to search my face, but I drag him back.

“Don’t stop,” I beg, pleasure throbbing so powerfully it brings on a surge of emotions. “Please. Please, don’t stop.”

He kisses me and I moan, his hand sliding between us to grip and pump my throbbing cock, wringing out every last drop of pleasure from our sweat-soaked bodies.

Finally, he releases me, and we kiss slowly, lips lazily stroking each other. The spray from the bath’s nozzle and our breaths are the only sounds.

He trails his lips down to my neck. “Are you alright? Any pain?”