Epilogue #3
She gasped, hand on her cheek. “Only just! Had I but known, I would’ve kept myself warm with dreams of you.”
Soren stood firm, stoically meeting her flirtations.
When Maeve saw he was unmoved, she sighed and rolled to the other side of the bed. “I see I’ll have to seduce you once again, Mister Soren. You really do play hard to get.”
“I really don’t,” he protested, fists clenched as he watched her prowl her way closer.
“No? Then why aren’t I being ravished as we speak?” Coming to stand before him, she teased him with her smile and gentle fingertips slipping between his shirt and belt.
“Maeve…”
“If you really would rather just cuddle tonight, we can,” she said, although it was with her most pitiful pout.
“They’ll know…”
“How happy you make me?” His shirt slid free of his belt, which she began to unbuckle. “How good you make me feel?” She kissed his chest, right above where his fur disappeared beneath the vee of his shirt’s neckline. “How a manticore treats his kigara?”
She makes an excellent point, purred the turuk.
You just want to fuck her.
And you don’t?
Well…ibás, he was outnumbered and outmatched.
Taking hold of her hips, Soren drew her flush against him, letting her feel the hot burn of his cock against her belly. Maeve gasped and cooed, biting her lip in pleasure.
“You will have to do as I ask,” he rumbled.
“I always do,” she whispered back.
That was…half true.
Relenting, Soren pulled off his shirt and finished unbuckling his belt. He stepped out of his kilt under her appreciative, lusty gaze. Before her eyes, his cock bobbed enthusiastically, his blood pumping hotter to know he was so close to seeing all those ribbons again.
Maeve reached for him, but he caught her wrist. Still holding her, he sank to a knee to catch the hem of her gown.
Biting her lip again, she balanced with her hands on his shoulders as he rucked up her skirts.
All that fabric slid up her body, and Soren worked it carefully over her shoulders and head.
Finally, finally he saw what she’d hidden from him all day.
The wicked underthings were even better than he remembered. He traced a finger over the garter at her waist, warmed from laying against her body.
Using the hand he held, he spun her slowly, taking his fill of the sight of her.
Ibás, the thin fabric that didn’t at all cover her cunt slipped around the back to clearly bisect the cheeks of her plush backside.
He loved the line her stockings made across her supple thighs and how the ribbons up to the garter followed the contours of her.
Her long hair spilled like spun gold down her back, emphasizing her winging shoulder blades and the gentle slope of her shoulders. As he watched, she reached back to draw her hair over a shoulder and peek at him over the other.
“You like it, then?” she asked, as though she didn’t know the answer.
Throat tight with a possessive purr, Soren caught her hips in his greedy paws, sliding them down to cup her backside. His fingers sank into the giving flesh, making him shudder.
“Very much,” he rumbled.
“Good, because I have much, much more.”
Soren’s purr stuttered, and he dropped his mouth to the curve of her bare shoulder. Licking up the back of her neck, he thanked the goddess and all his ancestors for the gift of his sweet, playful mate. He was truly the luckiest bastard alive.
His cock throbbed against the delicious curve of her backside, and Soren had to grit his teeth and claw back some of his control. He’d prided himself on building his strength and stamina for bedroom play; there was no other choice when it came to having a kigara as lustful and flirtatious as his.
She tested that new strength and stamina now. It would be nothing to pick up her leg behind the knee, opening her enough for him to sink inside.
Ibás, he wanted that badly.
But no, no, he could be a patient mate, a good mate. That’s what today had been about—showing everyone all that he could be to her.
“On your back, on the bed,” he purred in her ear.
Maeve shuddered, her breaths coming a little faster. Soren watched avidly as she turned to face him, trailing her hand along his chest as she moved to do as he said. She laid back languidly, stretching her arms above her head and rocking her hips side to side.
“Like this?”
“Legs open for me.”
A mischievous smile teased her lips. She parted her legs about a foot.
“Is this good?”
“A little more.”
“This much?”
“Almost.”
“You’re such a demanding man,” she teased, opening her legs a little wider.
Her thick scent hit him, and Soren’s purr deepened to something more frenetic, more feral. His cock throbbed painfully, needing inside the glistening pink cunt peeking at him from between the ribbons.
Hold strong, he told himself.
Palming her knees, Soren pushed her legs fully apart. She gasped in delight as she was exposed to him, her playful gaze glittering as she watched from the bed.
Enket at inan, the ribbons really didn’t cover anything, looping over the apexes of her thighs rather than her cunt. If anything, spread like this, the ribbons helped keep her open for his hungry attentions.
Planting a hand beside her waist on the bed, he leaned over her.
But rather than give her the kiss she expected, he traced his lips over the soft swells of her breasts, pushed up by the bodice of her stays.
He kissed the tops and licked between them before trailing down her middle.
Maeve rocked and squirmed beneath him, but he wouldn’t be hurried.
A curse fell from his lips as he descended on her, mouth fixing to the fragrant cunt he wanted to devour.
Maeve mewled and moaned his name, hand sinking into his mane as his tongue lavished her clitoris.
Something of an expert now on her pleasure, after a summer of being a devoted and studious pupil, Soren teased and suckled, working her up slowly.
When she dug her fingers into the hair behind his ear or rocked her hips, he backed off, instead petting her with gentle laps. When she gave in, laying still for him again, he resumed, cupping the underside of her clitoris on his tongue or spearing it inside her weeping entrance.
Her abdomen contracted and her lips opened wide on another moan.
Surging over her, Soren dug his paw under her and flipped her to her front. Maeve landed with a surprised oomph, her backside bouncing enticingly. Getting her elbows under her, she pouted at him over her shoulder.
“So-ren,” she whined.
“Patience, eremi,” he rumbled, leaning over her again.
He earned another gasp when the hot bar of his cock settled on her backside. She wiggled for him, nearly driving Soren mad.
He didn’t know how much longer he could tease the both of them, but since he’d undressed her, he’d needed to feel his cock sliding against her backside again.
Humming with approval, Maeve sank her chest into the bed, spread her knees, and lifted her hips in the air.
Ibás, it was a wicked, naughty thing to do.
Hooking a thin strip of fabric with a claw, he pulled it to the side, making room for his cock to slide between her cheeks.
Maeve shuddered, head falling forward, as Soren teased them both.
She cradled him so sweetly, the taut ribbon teasing his cockhead on every forward stroke.
His heart nearly beat out of his chest as he watched and felt her wiggle her hips more, her swollen pink cunt beckoning.
Her whines were muffled in the coverlet, but Soren understood.
Tracing a ribbon to her front, he fixed it over her clitoris.
“Wuh…?”
Holding himself by the root, Soren plunged inside. Maeve’s back arched, taking him deeper. Slick and needy, she welcomed him inside, coaxed him deeper. Soren slid halfway in without effort, and another thrust brought him to the knot.
Thumb tangled in that ribbon, he pulled it tighter. Maeve jolted as he thrust forward, pinching her clitoris between the ribbon and his cock. Her head lolled back and forth on the bed, her shoulders shaking.
Soren cursed and prayed—it should really be him on his knees, thanking any deity or entity that’d listen.
Instead, he worshiped before his own inaná, a grateful, devoted supplicant.
Enamored with the way her backside bounced against him with each stroke, Soren quickened his thrusts, their bodies slapping wetly together in a medley of moans and growls.
“Soren, Soren, Sorennnn…” she mewled, her cunt clenching down on him hard.
Falling across her back, he took her throat in his hand, holding her up for his ferocious kiss. Thrusting home, his knot popped inside her, sealing them together.
Maeve jerked beneath him, and he tasted her inhale. Her body contracted below and around him, pulling him in deeper.
“Love you,” she gasped, “I love you, Soren.”
He buried himself inside his mate, pouring everything, giving over everything he was and could be. He wanted to meld them together, and as he came inside her, forgetting where he ended and she began, he had his wish.
“I love you, inaná,” he growled, his love for her fiercer than a storming sea, hotter than a savannah wildfire, and greater than the spitting volcano that made the world.
“Always?”
“Always.”