CHAPTER 52 CORY
M ax and Port have forced me to train with them, a pathetic attempt at salvaging my sanity. I’ve been wracked with jealousy, as humiliating as that is to admit, after exiling the White Warlock, Kar.
Though I loathe myself for it, I’ve also been furious with Milica. It’s a burden I know my packmates can sense –they glance at me with worried eyes, pat my shoulder as they pass by, and speak in whispered tones to each other in the night. Mili, for her part, has tried to speak to me. I haven’t been able to bear it.
As such, I find myself here again: fighting to numb my firestorm of emotions. I’ve been a fair opponent insofar as I can control my furious energy, but I know Port and Max are already a bit overwhelmed by my particularly high levels of spite in our current spar.
I’m working with my favorite weapon, my prized bludgeon. It’s a bit of an eyesore to most, as it’s a particularly violent weapon. Most of these sorts of clubs are for use with one hand, but mine I wield with two.
The wood is heavy and solid, and an arc of metal curves around the tool’s body. The head is covered in spikes, great for intimidation and damage, both. It’s a fearsome beast, and Max and Port prefer to battle me without it. It’s not the most graceful of weapons, nor the most noble.
Still, it’s mine.
I can’t spar with it alongside the shifters, since I don’t want to murder them at this time, but I have been running drills with their help. A few patches of ground have been beat to sorrowful, muddy patches as a result of my swings.
I realize I’m panting, eyes wild with open frustration as I sling the bludgeon straight into a tree. That, of course, was not supposed to happen.
“Oh, that’s a fix!” Max cries out.
Port walks over to me, wincing, and gently nudges my shoulder. “Perhaps a break?” he suggests.
I scoff, but stash my bludgeon back in my satchel and stomp off. Where I’m going, I’m not exactly sure. I just need to walk.
I find myself at the river a few moments later, my pounding heart slowly calming. The water is steady, thankfully back to usual after the trouble with the dam. I watch it and sigh.
Then a voice rings out behind me, “Cory?”
Mili . I force my anger down and turn to her with a small frown. I don’t have to be friendly with her, but I can at least be civil. “What is it?”
She’s beautiful as ever, her long black hair flowing down her back and over her shoulders. She’s wearing one of the dresses I gave her, that matches her eyes. The sight of her warm hazel eyes sloped with concern brings a pang of agony to my heart.
“I want to talk,” she whispers.
I can hardly hear her over the wind and the water, but even if her words didn’t reach me, I would know what she wants. She’s been trying to speak with me about the encounter with Kar for nearly a week, to no avail. I told her when she first went to confront him that I’d always forgive her –but it’s hard to ignore the feeling of her slipping through my fingers. It’s entirely possible she doesn’t feel as deeply about me as I’m realizing I feel about her. It’s terrifying.
Perhaps it’s all in my mind. Perhaps not.
“Where?” I reply, misplaced exasperation coloring my words.
She purses her lips, but doesn’t bite back. Instead, she simply says, “Let’s go home.”
The two of us walk together in silence back to the cottage. We pass Max and Port on the way, and they both nod nervously at us. I suppose Mili’s already told them she planned to trap me into a conversation. The thought of her pulling strings with my pack frustrates me, but I try to push it down.
Once we’re inside, Mili heads straight for the loveseat and motions for me to join her. I sigh with annoyance at the order, but oblige.
We sit in silence for a moment, since I refuse to be the one to break first. I steal frustrated glances at Milica, but she just stares ahead sadly. The sight of her in pain hurts me, physically, but I can’t let myself be weak now.
Finally, she says, “I don’t know why you’re so angry.”
“I don’t know either,” I blurt out thoughtlessly. I groan and try to pull myself together as I continue, “I don’t –I knew you’d been with Kar. Seeing how evil he can be to you, though, and knowing that you’ve given yourself to him? Shared a moment of ecstasy with him? It infuriates me.”
Mili’s gaze hardens as I speak, and I have the distinct sensation of digging myself further and further into a grave. After I’m finished with my small tirade, I huff angrily and cross my arms. Then I uncross them, since it makes me feel like a sulking toddler.
“He was completely overbearing and controlling. That experience taught me what I like and what I don’t. I was looking for reciprocity, a real partner, I know that now. I wasn’t looking to be controlled.”
Her words hit me hard, a sudden worry tightening in my chest. Does she see me that way, too? “Wasn’t I controlling the other night?”
She shakes her head, meeting my gaze without hesitation. “No, because I agreed to it. You asked for my consent, you cared for what I want, and as a result, you gave me more satisfaction and pleasure than I could have ever imagined.” She pauses for a moment and I feel totally blown away as she continues. “Cory, it was just an experience. I didn’t give myself to him. I’ve only ever given myself to you.”
Her words stop my heart in my chest. Obviously this is the case, but I didn’t really realize it until she said it. She has only given herself to me. She let me restrain her, keep her pleasure captive, train my packmates on her and let them do my bidding.
Kar stole from her. I gave.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve pulled her into my firm arms, wrapped her completely in my embrace. I breathe shakily as she melts seamlessly into my touch, and I choke back a growl of mingled guilt and relief as a single tear of hers lands on my chest.
“Prove it to me,” I groan in response.
Without a word, Mili pulls back, eyes shining with emotion, and kneels before me. She looks reverent, like a woman at an altar, and I feel deeply, deeply real. I feel worthy, cherished.
She’ll give herself to me, always , I realize. She already has.
Her scent buzzing with frantic care, as if she’s desperate to prove herself, Mili pulls my trousers down to my ankles. She spreads her hands on my thighs, and I bury one of my hands in her long hair.
“Take it,” I murmur, my voice already husky with desire, with passion.
She whines and buries my cock in her mouth, bobbing so I hit the back of her throat. She grunts with repressed gags as she goes, and I twist my hand harder in her hair.
“Hands to the side,” I command, my voice echoing through the small cottage.
Mili shivers but does as I order, and I start to move her head with my hand. She whimpers as I thrust her head firmly back and forth, but she takes me all regardless.
It doesn’t take long for my length to become dangerously ready to crash over the edge, so I pull her head back and meet her lips with a ferocious kiss. She whines against me and tries to reach up her hands to my head, but I let loose a roar and she flings them back to the loveseat.
“Good girl,” I murmur.
She groans loudly and pushes her tongue further into my mouth, but I pull back and spin her around. I hold her hands together, low rumbles escaping me as I move, and grab the belt from my pants at my ankles.
“Tell me to stop and I stop,” I whisper in her ear. I watch goosebumps spring up on her neck where my breath touches, and I growl as I whisper again, “Tap three times and I stop. Understood?”
“Yes, I–”
“No speaking,” I roar. She nods, already rubbing her thighs together to gain some friction. I kick her kneeling knees apart with my feet; she shudders and whines in response.
I thrust her up by the shoulders once I’ve bound her hands, spinning her to face the small sofa in one quick twirl. She gasps as I bend her at the hips until her face is pressed against the back of the loveseat, and I kick her feet even further apart so she’s spread completely before me.
“Further,” I bark out.
Immediately, she arches her back, shoving her face even further into the upholstery and opening her sex even more to me. One hand holds both of hers in the air, forcing her shoulder blades nearly-painfully together, and the other I use to press two fingers directly into her.
She’s already soaked, and I hum low with approval as I pound my fingers into the most sensitive spot inside her. Mili cries out, voice shattering as I thrust a third finger inside.
“Gods, Cory!” she screams.
“No speaking,” I order. She gasps a desperate, pleading gasp, but swallows her pleas and simply nods.
I move into a faster rhythm, my fingers in their exact same spot, and relish the sound of her cries as I begin to flick my thumb over her clit. She tries to pull her legs together, helplessly seeking relief from the intense stimulation I’m bringing her, but my legs kick them apart again.
Choking sobs of intense pleasure wrack her body, and I thrust, thrust, thrust my fingers inside her until I feel her reach fever pitch, spiraling into the most frantic orgasm I’ve ever brought her.
Mili groans with complete abandon as I continue my fingers pulsing inside her, begging without words for me to stop the relentless command I have over her body. Still, I don’t stop, flicking my thumb sharply from side to side on her clit.
Her groans turn to gasping cries as I push her into another orgasm, with none of the grace of the first, and her legs shake so hard that I nearly have to hold her entire body up by her sex.
Once she’s come hard enough for my satisfaction, I pull her hands back to me and plunge my solid cock into her. I don’t give her a moment to breathe, and I know it’s what she wants more than anything.
“You’re your own person, Milica, and I adore you for it,” I start, voice rumbling with control as I thrust hard and fast. Mili gasps and whines as I continue, “But here –here, you’re only mine.”
Mili chokes out a sob as I pump my cock brutally in and out of her, and I use her arms as leverage to keep her hips pressed firmly to my groin. Taking my whole length can’t be the easiest thing in the world, but I know Mili wants it – the ache, the raw need, the desperate taking.
Before long, Mili comes again, deeper than before. The surface orgasm I can drag out of her with my fingers is frenzied, heated, grasping – this is different. She moans, low and throaty, as her walls pulse around my cock.
I slow my thrusting for her, coasting her through the orgasm, then finish myself as I’m moving slowly through her. It’s soft and warm, like butter or honey – like Mili. Then I slow and, finally, I stop.
She sighs with relief as I let her hands drop to her back, and I immediately begin to rub slow lines down her back. She shivers as I do, so I quickly bend to kiss up and down her spine. Once our breaths have both slowed, I gently unbuckle the belt binding her and sit the both of us down on the floor.
“Blanket?” Mili whispers.
I smile wearily and walk quickly to grab her quilt from the bedroom. Once I’ve grabbed it, I let Milica sit on my lap and wrap it over both of us.
She sighs as I brush against her neck with small kisses, then she holds her hands out for me. I take them gladly.