Mara
He kisses me deep, in no rush at all now that he’s got me where he wants me, one hand spread wide at the back of my head while the other moves down my body.
I’m flat on our bed with his weight pressing me into the mattress, and I’ve already stopped trying to remember why I was angry.
I get a fist in his shirt and pull, greedy for more of him, and he gives it to me, his tongue stroking deep, a low sound rolling out of him and into me.
“Aaron,” I breathe against his mouth, not even sure what I’m asking for.
He pulls back just far enough to look at me, and I gasp.
His eyes are black. Solid, depthless black, edge to edge. And the way he’s looking down at me, slow and hungry and certain, has the breath catching in my throat all over again.
“Ummm.” My voice comes out small. “Aaron.”
“Yes, baby.” Even his voice has dropped, gone rougher, darker.
“Your eyes.” I lift a hand toward his face and don’t quite have the nerve to touch. They’re jet black, no light left in them, and there’s something behind them that isn’t all the way him. “Aaron—“
He shakes his head, slow, and one corner of his mouth lifts. “I need you, Mara.”
Then his mouth is back on mine. No more talking.
He kisses me deep and claiming, his hand dragging down my body to take inventory as it goes.
He palms my breast through my dress. I push up into his hand, greedy for it.
He drags his thumb over my nipple, then catches it between two fingers and pinches.
The pleasure shoots through me so sharp my back bows clean off the bed.
We never stop kissing. It’s all tongue and hunger.
I’m already wrecked. He hasn’t even gotten me out of my dress.
His mouth leaves mine and drags down my throat, the slope of my breast, then lower, and I catch where he’s headed too late.
“Aaron.”
He lifts his head from the dip of my hip. “Huh?” He says it against my skin, then goes right back to it, dragging open-mouthed kisses up the inside of my thigh.
He flicks his wrist. Magic spills off his fingers, blue-gold light pouring over my hips, and it brushes across my panties light as breath. Then they’re gone. Just gone. The air hits me bare and exposed, and my whole body jolts, already aching.
My tail whips up off the bed and coils around his neck, the tassel pulling tight. I’m not sure if it’s a threat or a plea. He grins up the length of me like he likes it, like he wants me to squeeze.
His hand comes up and closes over my tail.
Magic hits it, warm and humming, and my tail goes loose all at once, unwinding from his neck and falling limp to the mattress.
Something inside me goes quiet with it. My lion, restless and prowling since the moment his eyes went black, curls down somewhere deep in me and goes under.
I shove up onto my elbows, then sit up the rest of the way, a hiss tearing out of me. “What did you do to my lion?”
He presses one last kiss to my thigh and looks up at me, calm as anything. “Don’t worry, baby. She’s just taking a nap.”
He sets his big hands on the inside of my knees and pushes them wide.
“Aaron!”
He drags his tongue across his bottom lip, those black eyes pinning me to the bed. “I’m about to eat this pussy,” he growls, low and certain, “and you’re gonna sit back like a good girl and let me.”
I open my mouth to argue. His tongue sweeps up the center of me before I get a word out, slow and flat and hot, and whatever I was going to say leaves me in a gasp as I fall back against the bed.
He lifts his head, his eyes closed, and hums, pleased with himself. My claws are already out, sunk deep into the mattress on either side of me, and a whimper slips out of me.
“You’re feral,” I manage.
He cracks one black eye open. “Ya think?” Then he chuckles, dark and delighted, and buries his face back between my thighs.
And he devours me, no patience in it at all.
His mouth seals over my pussy. His tongue drags up the center of me, slow and flat, then flicks over my clit, and a sound rips out of me I’ve never made before.
He fucks me with his tongue, deep, then drags back up to suck my clit between his lips.
The rough scrape of his beard against my inner thighs only makes it filthier.
I’m a mess. “Aaron, ah, ummm.” My hips grind up into his mouth.
My legs fall open wider. He pins me to the bed with a forearm across my belly and keeps going.
The pleasure coils tighter with every pass of his tongue until there’s nowhere left for it to go.
It snaps. My first orgasm tears through me and I bite down on my own tongue, “ah, shit,” my thighs shaking around his head, my whole body wrung out and lit up at once. He licks me through every bit of it, gentle now, until I go loose under him.
He pulls back, and his eyes are still that endless black, his mouth and chin slick and shining with me.
He doesn’t look away from my face as he reaches back, fists his shirt, and drags it over his head.
Then he’s on his feet, shoving his pants and boxers down and off.
He’s bare in front of me now, all of him, already hard, thick and flushed, and my mouth goes dry at the sight of him.
He catches the front of my dress and pulls me upright into him, and I go, my mouth crashing into his.
I taste myself on him and it only winds me higher.
He kisses me deep and hungry, then breaks it to haul the dress up over my head and toss it somewhere behind him.
My bra he doesn’t bother with. He hooks two fingers under the band and tears it clean off me. Then he flips me over onto my belly.
I look back at him over my shoulder with a soft hiss, more want than warning. He drags me up onto my knees by my hips, and I let him arrange me however he likes.
“Aaron.”
He wraps a hand around his dick and strokes himself slow, watching me, his other hand smoothing over the bare curve of my ass like he’s deciding where to begin. I swallow hard. He stays fixed on me, and the waiting is its own kind of unbearable.
Then he lines himself up and slides into me in one long push, and the breath punches out of me.
He closes his eyes, his head tipping back, a grin breaking across his face like sinking into me is the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
I feel every inch of him filling me, stretching me, and I gasp into the pillow.
He pulls almost all the way out and pushes back in, slow, dragging it out, and a moan spills out of me.
My body’s still humming from the first time, oversensitive and greedy, and every slow stroke lands somewhere deeper for it.
My own want takes over. I drop my head, grab the pillow off the headboard, and bite down on it.
I start backing onto him, working myself on his dick, chasing it.
He lets me for about three strokes. Then he plants his hands on my hips and takes over, matching me thrust for thrust, giving me back everything I give him.
It’s a fight. It’s skin on skin and both of us pushing, and it feels so good it’s almost cruel, a punishing kind of pleasure that whites out the edges of everything.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck, Aaron.”
He’s grunting behind me, low and filthy. “Yes. Fuck, yes.” His fingers dig into my hips. “Make me pass out, Mara.”
I throw myself back into him harder, and he gives it right back, harder still, until it’s just the slap of skin on skin and both of us fighting for control of it.
He’s winning.
And it feels so fucking good I don’t even care.
I’m coming again before I’m ready for it, the orgasm rolling up out of nowhere, crossing my eyes.
I sob into the pillow, bite down until my jaw aches.
He doesn’t slow. He fucks me through it and into the next one, and the one after that, and somewhere in there I stop being a person with thoughts in her head.
Sit down? I’ll sit down. Behave? I’ll behave.
Whatever he wants, as long as he doesn’t stop, as long as he keeps wringing me out like this until I can’t remember my own name.
I come one more time and it takes everything I’ve got left. My arms give and I collapse forward into the mattress, boneless, my mouth open around his name with no sound behind it.
He follows me down, dragging his tongue slow up my sweat-damp back, and settles his weight over me with his mouth at my ear.
“I’m not done with you, baby.”
He flips me over onto my back.
“Aaron.” My voice is shot. “Let me rest. Please.”
He doesn’t answer. He spreads my legs and braces over me, and when he finally speaks his voice has gone soft in a way it hasn’t been this whole time.
“Make love to me, Mara. Baby.”
And then his eyes change. The black bleeds slowly out of them, brown washing back in, until it’s just Aaron looking down at me, warm and steady and mine.
He slides into me again and I gasp, but it’s different now. He moves slow and deep, rolling into me, taking his time, kissing me through all of it. He whispers into my mouth between strokes, how much he loves me, how there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for me, for me and our cubs.
“Aaron.” It’s all I can say. “Aaron.”
He keeps moving, slow and sure, kissing my cheek, the corner of my eye where the tears have slipped loose without my say-so. He catches them with his mouth, one after another.
“I love you, baby,” he murmurs against my wet cheek.
The tears come faster, and I can’t get a word out past his name.
When I come this time it’s quiet, a long shudder that rolls through me and pulls a sob up with it.
He kisses me through that too. A few strokes later he follows me over, his groan breaking against my neck, his hips stuttering, and I feel him pulse deep inside me.
Then he comes down heavy on top of me, spent, and I wrap my arms around him and hold on.