Chapter 40
Hanna
Heat jolted through me so fiercely I almost gasped. Savla pressed me closer, his chest plastered against my breasts. His lips trailed from my neck to my shoulder, each kiss slower, deeper, more intense. I shivered, anticipation sharp as lightning beneath my skin.
“Savla…”
“You can stop me,” he whispered. “Tell me no.”
But every nerve in my body was already leaning into him. I didn’t want to stop him. I wanted the mark. I wanted him.
“I won’t,” I whispered back.
His breath caught. Just once. Then he broke.
His mouth closed over the curve of my shoulder—firm, hot, claiming—and his fangs pressed into my skin. Not enough to wound. Enough to burn. Enough to brand.
The magick hit instantly. This was what it had been waiting for. A rush of heat, light and power so strong my vision blurred. My knees weakened and his arm locked around my waist, holding me upright as the bond roared to life between us.
I felt everything he poured into that bite—want, fear, devotion, need and love. The mark pulsed once, sending a shockwave through my magick so strong I cried out, clutching his forearm, a pulse of pleasure shooting through me.
“Hanna—” His voice broke against my skin. “Gods, I didn’t mean—did I hurt you?”
“No,” I gasped, leaning back into him. “Don’t stop.”
He groaned—a raw, wrecked sound—and bit down harder, sealing the mark with a surge of green magick surrounding both of us.
My magick reached for him, instinctively, wrapping around him like it had finally found the place it belonged.
He trembled over me. So did I. When he finally lifted his mouth from my shoulder, I felt the heat of his breath against my marked skin, his lips ghosting over the sting with something unbearably gentle.
“Hanna,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “You’re mine now.”
I turned in his arms, breathless, shaking, heart pounding so hard it hurt.
“Only if you’re mine, too.”
His forehead pressed to mine. “I always was.”
Then his hips pushed forward, and my pussy took in another few inches of him.
Fuck, it’s so good.
The low chuckle against my new mark told me I’d said that out loud.
“T-that’s flattering,” he groaned.
His laughter was a choked huff of breath and his hand slipped to cup my head so he could lift me to his lips, pressing gentle, soft, delicate kisses against them even as his cock worked me into a frenzy. He almost pulled all the way out before pushing in again.
My moan met the air rushing out of him. He repeated the same motion, wild-eyed with lips curving in a dumbfounded, incredulous smile. I felt him rearranging my pussy, my soul, my entire fucking life as I lost control of my body.
My head fell back, my thighs trembled and his thrusts slowed. They were shallow, but earthshattering.
“It’s so good,” I slurred. I couldn’t define how good it truly was. Good wasn’t even the right term. But my brain was mush, and I couldn’t use my proper vocabulary even if I wanted to.
“So good,” he agreed, looking like he meant the exact same thing.
He gave me another stroke, then another slow one, like he wanted to make each last as long as possible. He was almost all the way inside me now. He luxuriated in my pussy, indulging in every second of friction between us.
“Zoga,” he breathed against my cheekbone. “I think this might be it for me.” His arms slid under my back before I could ask him what he meant. He gathered me up in a viselike embrace, dragging our skin together.
There were wet noises, and a terrible, all-consuming heat. His gaze never left mine. Everything was whirling together, and winded down to the place where he was fucking me.
“I’m going to come,” I gasped, and convulsed around him before I was even done announcing it. I pawed desperately at his shoulders.
He stayed still while I did, waiting it out, crammed inside of me, pressing against all of the spots that were my undoing. I screamed his name, writing against him, but he just pressed kisses to my mark, murmuring words of praise and encouragement against my skin.
I shook against him, my body lost to everything but the bond and magick between us. When my breathing evened out, he pressed a kiss to my mark and then my cheek, telling me how beautiful I was, and ordered, ruthless,
“Again.”
I wanted to laugh at him, but then he started thrusting again with long, slow rolls of his hips, and he watched every second of me falling part.
Oh dearest Goddess Mother, the male’s going to kill me with pleasure. This is how it ends. And what a way to go.
“Oh,” I gasped, not sure if I was going to lose my mind. There was no real way that anyone could stay sane with this many orgasms. I was certain of it.
“Again,” he groaned, and I shook my head against his throat, where he’d pressed me, his face buried in my hair, breathing in my scene.
“I can’t,” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper of sound, but I was so wrong. His pace was measured. A patient, unforgiving rhythm, and my release this time was so intense that I forgot to breathe.
“Fuck,” he said, and I just knew he was going to ask me for more.
It occurred to me how terrifying it must all be for him. For a male whose entire existence was predicated upon control. The unravelling that came with pleasure like he was giving me.
I wondered if he knew. If anyone had ever seen him as vulnerable as I was seeing him in his entire life. I reached up to cradle his face in my hands. I kissed his hot lips.
And whispered, “Savla,” against them. “Please come with me.”
It was impossible for this male to say no to me. I felt his brow furrow against mine as he stared into my eyes. We were so close. So together. I’d never felt anything like this. This intimacy.
The steady, controlled movements became frantic, pounding, and he grunted every time his thick cock filled me over and over. He murmured words of adoration, love and absolute filth to me, never blinking as we stared at each other.
Another orgasm crashed into me, almost taking me out. His cock swelled inside me, impossibly filling me even more. My breath caught in my throat.
“Savla?” I gasped, and he kissed me. Deep, sweet kisses that didn’t match the frantic grinding of our bodies.
“Take me,” he groaned, shoving his hips harder against me. “Be good and take my cum.”
And without warning, his cock started jerking, and he held me tighter, groaning against my mark about his ‘perfect mate’ and her ‘perfect, tight cunt’. Somehow the filthy words were almost poetry in my ears.
Our orgasm lasted so long I almost passed out again, my vision blurry and my body sweltering hot. It was perfect. I combed a hand through his hair and wrapped my arms around him, feeling his heavy breaths reverberating through me.
The sounds of his pleasure surrounded us, and an incessant wail that was... oh, that was me. I stayed there, spasming, holding tight, for a long time. So long, I startled when he asked,
“Am I crushing you?” He was gasping for breath over me, my breasts flattened against his ribs, and he was still inside, still as hard as when we started. In fact, I squirmed for a minute, but there was a drip and then a splatter of cum that leaked down my thighs when I shimmied my hips.
“No,” I whisper, pressing kisses to his skin while he groaned above me. “Savla?”
He was too out of breath to reply, but he pressed a kiss of acknowledgment against the crown of my hair.
He guided us onto the low couch—slightly crooked from Ribbon crushing us into it before—pulling me into his lap with a gentleness that made my heart quake.
I curled into him instinctively, my head resting on his shoulder, his arms wrapping around me like he’d been waiting all morning to do just that.
We stayed like that. Quiet and warm as our bodies came down from the aftershocks of what we’d just shared. We were breathing together with his hand stroking across my back slowly, rhythmically. My palm rested over his heart, feeling its steady beat under my fingertips.
The workshop went soft around us—muted light, faint scent of cedar and metal along with Ribbon’s soft snores from just outside the door. My eyelids drooped, lulled by the gentle sounds around us.
“Are you tired?” he whispered, brushing his thumb along my temple.
“A little,” I admitted, sinking deeper into his chest.
He pressed a kiss against the top of my head. It wasn’t heated anymore or urgent. It was tender. It undid anything that had still been tied up tight inside me.
“Sleep,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
The bond hummed a soft lullaby through my chest as his arms tightened around me. Ribbon’s snores increased in intensity and frequency.
And just like that—I drifted off in Savla’s arms, peaceful for the first time in days and I swore that right as I slipped under, I heard him whisper, “I love you.”