10. Berne #2
He'd steeled himself, prepared for the inevitability she wouldn't want him, that she wouldn't reciprocate the soul-crushing need he felt for her. Resigned himself to fast releases in the woods behind his house until she welcomed him into what he now thought of as her bed.
He should've known when he'd run into her in the forest. Her scent on the breeze, her excited gasp, and her gleeful dance had made him smile stupidly, his large tongue hanging out of his mouth.
He marveled at how only yesterday he'd thought he was still torn about what to do with her when he'd already been careening toward her.
He should have known she would have his heart, and his cock, in her hands for the taking.
Berne's breath punched out of him at her words, and he swallowed before speaking. With his luck, his voice would crack like a cub's if he didn't.
''I'm here, for your exploring if you'd like.
'' Sitting with his arms wide, he indicated he was hers to command.
He hoped she didn't look too closely at his hands, which trembled like the last stubborn leaves of autumn.
Berne wasn't exactly inexperienced either, but it had been quite some time, and he didn't think he'd ever wanted anyone near as much.
Did he even properly remember what to do?
He would come the second she touched him if he wasn't careful.
She pursed her lips for a moment, immediately causing him to imagine them wrapped around his shaft, and he groaned despite himself. He could imagine how fucking delicious she would look, how slick, how hot she'd feel wrapped around him. How he was in so much fucking trouble.
Goddess damn you for an idiot, Berne. Could you not have taken five fucking minutes before falling asleep to wank off so you don't go off like a volcano.
Sirin braced herself on his leg, stood with the smallest smirk, and moved to stand between his legs. Which put her round, little breasts at his eye level, torturing him with their closeness. She smiled deviously, Sirin knew exactly what she was doing to him, as she sat her lush bottom on his knee.
Seated on his lap, her hips and wonderfully thick thighs—so close to his cock which was already stone hard—were temptation personified. The image of himself rutting between them raged through him. She raised her arms, winding her hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, making him growl.
He was going to blow in his pants like a schoolboy if he wasn't careful.
Sirin looked him in the eye, her lips an inch away from his own. The smallest movement would have them kissing.
''All mine to explore? Wherever shall I start?
'' She bit her luscious lip and seemed to consider, leaning into his neck to whisper, ''The neck is always a good place but''—she tilted her head and grazed his ear with her lips—''I am always interested in an ear nibble.
'' She took his earlobe in her mouth and gave it the slightest nip.
His heart beat faster, and he closed his eyes with a sigh, allowing himself to just feel her.
''Though, I have to admit,'' she whispered, grabbing his chin to turn his face to hers, ''a kiss can tell you so much about what to expect from a lover.''
Sirin's mouth hovered over his, their breath mingling between them.
She licked her lips, their eyes meeting, before gently brushing her lips over his.
The touch was like a spark, kindling his desire and spurring him to action.
He needed to touch her everywhere. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing the outside of her thigh.
Berne caught her lips with his and wasted no time with small, sipping kisses.
He would, he marveled, have years of leisurely caressing kisses.
Right now, he needed to plunder her mouth with deep stroking slides of tongue and teeth, to suck her plump lower lip and drink down her moans.
Her taste reminded him of everything he loved about the forest, wild brightness dancing along his tongue tempered by a deep, smooth richness that grounded him in the present.
She kissed fiercely as if her very life depended on it, and in a way, he supposed, it had.
When he broke his mouth from hers, she let out a sound of disappointment, chasing his lips before he ducked to graze his mouth over her neck and shoulder.
The sigh she released, full of yearning and desire, as he fastened his lips to her skin was more than he could've hoped for during his uncomfortable walk.
She clung to his hair, guiding him where she wanted him most. He licked the shell of her ear, chuckling at her gasp when he sucked her earlobe into his mouth.
He laved her with his lips and tongue, reminding them of how he'd like to treat her pussy.
She writhed in his lap, her hands blindly scrabbling at his clothes, searching for skin.
She'd already thrown her vest to the floor next to them, and had, at some point, unbuttoned half of her blouse.
Berne raised a hand to grasp her forearm, seeking their mating bite.
He needed to touch her there. It bound her to him, made him lucky enough to have such a juicy morsel wiggling on his thighs.
While he'd never had an interest in an arm before, it had suddenly become ridiculously alluring.
He transferred his mouth to her arm, and when he sucked on the spot until Sirin's eyes went glassy.
She threw her head back, pants falling heavily from her parted lips.
He'd heard mate bites were extremely sensitive, but this was beyond what he'd expected.
Her scent had taken on the deeper, muskier scent of her arousal and he gulped it down; he was parched, and she was the only thing that could quench his thirst. Sirin rubbed her legs together and gave a needy whimper.
''I need—I need you. Take me to bed, now,'' she ordered in a tortured whisper.
Berne swept her up and deposited her onto their bed.
He smiled to himself, already thinking of it as theirs when moments ago, he'd thought of it as hers alone.
There was something so intensely gratifying about their bed.
Thinking about the smell of her sex mingling with his own on the sheets made him bite his lip as he palmed his cock through his pants.