17. Soren
SOREN
Asour thread runs under all that strawberry sweetness, and it clears my head of everything else. My mate is spread beneath my wings in our new bed, afraid. I would sooner crumble than give her one reason to stay that way.
“I have waited for you,” I tell her, low. “There has been no other woman before you.”
She pushes up onto her elbows, legs still parted around me, and stares. “Wait, what? You’re a six-hundred-year-old virgin?”
My wings settle behind me, at peace with what I am. “It is the way of the gargoyle. We do not mate with anyone but our fated mates.”
Her knees start drawing together. I set a claw against one and stop them, gentle. “What are you doing?”
“I didn’t wait for you.” Her chin comes up while her fingers twist in the sheets. “I’m not a virgin.”
“You did not know I existed.” I hold her eyes so she can measure the truth in mine. “I didn’t expect you to wait for me to find you.”
“I think??—”
“I am ravenous for you, Treasure.” I let the growl into the words. She deserves to hear how much I mean them. “I can smell your arousal. Please. Allow me to pleasure you.”
“But?—”
It is the closest a gargoyle comes to begging. “You said you could love a monster.”
She swallows. Her knees ease back open under my claw, and she nods.
That small nod moves me more than any oath I’ve ever sworn. “I will worship you for as long as I walk this earth.”
She falls back against the mattress. “Okay, but your dick??—”
I curl my claw around her hip and hold it steady. “I promise you, you will fit me. You were made for me, my queen.”
Her fingers let go of the sheets. “I’m nervous. But I want this.”
That’s all I need.
My tongue slides out and draws a long line up the inside of her bare leg, from her ankle to the crease of her thigh, and her whole body jumps against the sheets.
Her panties are soaked through, sweet and heavy with her, and the scent alone nearly puts me on my knees.
I hook one claw into the fabric at her hip and tear it away in a single pull, tossing the scrap behind me.
“Soren?—”
I lower my head between her thighs and take my first taste of my mate.
She cries out and her hands grab my head, and I lose whatever plan I had. She tastes the way she smells, strawberries gone dark and ripe, and centuries of discipline crack straight down the middle. I drag my tongue through her, learning her, and her hips buck up into my mouth.
“Oh my— Soren??—”
My claws bracket her hips and pin her still.
My tongue reaches where no man’s ever could, curling deep into her pussy while my growl rolls up into her from underneath.
She’s tight, too tight for what I’ll ask of her tonight, so I stretch her open gently, deeper with each pass, and she writhes against my claws and gets nowhere.
“Wait— I can’t— oh my god??—”
I lift my head just enough to ask. “Shall I stop?”
“Don’t you dare.” She grabs my ear with one hand and shoves me right back down where I belong.
I feast on my mate. My tongue works all of her at once, buried deep in her pussy while the flat of it drags up over her clit on every pass. Her slick runs down my chin, and I let nothing go to waste.
She reaches over her head for something to grab and finds only mattress. I take her hips and lift, folding her thighs over my shoulders until her heels dig into the joints of my wings, and I hold her up off the bed entirely, all her weight resting in my hands, nothing under her but my mouth.
“Soren— your tongue— it’s too much, I can’t??—”
She can take it. I curl my tongue deeper and keep working her. Her thighs clamp against my head, her heels drum my wings, and she comes wailing at the ceiling of our cabin.
I don’t stop. I drink everything she gives me and curl into that swollen spot inside her while her hands beat the mattress. Her thighs shake around my ears, and her begging turns into noise.
“Soren— Soren, I— again, I’m??—”
She comes again with my name breaking apart in her mouth.
Another follows, and this one gushes over my tongue, her release soaking my mouth and running warm down my wrists while she tries to squirm out of my hands and can’t.
I lap her through it, and the sound she makes is better than any treasure I ever stood a post over.
When I finally lift my head and settle her back on the mattress, she lies limp, one arm flung over her face, her breathing the loudest thing in the room.
“Lord,” she breathes. “Have mercy.”
I slide my arms under her and sit her up against my chest, and she flops there and stays put.
I work her dress up over her head, careful with my claws.
She chose this dress for me, and it will not die in my hands.
The bra is another matter. My claws were built for boulders, not clasps, so I hook one through the band and tear it off her.
“Hey!” She swats my chest with no force at all. “You better be glad you gave me that treasure chest, because my underwear is not cheap.”
“I will buy you a hundred more,” I tell her.
“You don’t even know where the mall is.” She laughs at her own joke, tired and bright.
I lay her back down. Her brown skin shines warm in the low light, and I take one long look at what fate gave me. Then I bend and press my forehead to hers.
“You will never want for anything while I stand,” I vow against her skin. “I swear it on everything I have ever guarded.”
Her hands come up and hold my face, her thumbs stroking under my eyes. “Make love to me, Soren. It’s okay to be nervous. I’ve got you.”
My mate is bare on a bed under a monster, and she’s the one doing the steadying.
I straighten off the bed and unwrap the loincloth, and it drops somewhere near her panties.
When I take myself in my fist, even my own hand is almost too much.
My mate is watching me from the sheets, thighs still trembling, her scent thick in the air of our first home, and I have never in my long life been wound this tight.
I slide her down the mattress to the edge of the bed, where the frame stands tall enough to meet me, and I line myself against her heat.
“Slow,” she whispers.
I press the tip into her, and the room falls away, every watch I’ve ever stood collapsing down to the one place we touch.
Heat swallows the first inch of me, slick and tight. I want to tell her she’s doing beautifully. Nothing comes out. My hands shake against her hips.
She winces, a small tight pull at the corner of her eye.
I stop.
I’ve held still under hammers. Holding still inside my mate is harder, and I do it anyway while her body works at the size of me. Her breath stutters, then evens. Her hands close over my wrists where I hold her hips, her face smooths out, and her hips tilt up for more.
I give her more, a little at a time, watching her face for every flicker. I retreat and return deeper, she stretches around me, and the sounds she makes go from careful to hungry. At last my hips meet her thighs, and I am seated fully inside my mate.
We both go quiet.
“Oh my god.” Her hands flex on my forearms. “It’s all in.”
“Treasure.” Her name is the only word I have left.
“I know, baby.” Her heels hook behind me. “Go.”
My control breaks all at once, and I go.
I pull back and drive into her, and her cry rings off the cabin walls. There’s no fear anywhere in her scent, only heat, only want, and mine mine mine beats through me in time with my hips. The new bed holds. Barely.
Her pussy grips me from root to tip, soaked with everything my tongue made her give, and every stroke comes back to me glazed with her.
The wet sound of us fills the cabin louder than the bedframe.
I look down and watch myself disappear into my mate, her body taking what she swore would end her, and the sight nearly finishes me on its own.
I fuck my mate with all that waiting behind every stroke, deep rolling drives that drag her up the mattress until my claws catch her hips and haul her back onto me, and she takes all of it, screaming my name while her pussy grips me in long milking pulls.
“Soren— oh my god— Lord, this dick??—”
Her back bows clean off the bed, and the rush of her release soaks us both.
I have to hold still inside her or spill before she’s done.
My tongue rolls out and drags up her body, through the sweat between her breasts.
I lick one, then the other, while she shudders and claws at my arms, and another climax rolls over the last.
It isn’t enough. I need her closer.
I slide my hands under her and lift her off the bed entirely, still buried inside her.
Her arms lock around my neck as I stand to my full height, and she hangs weightless in my grip.
One of my hands spans the whole of her back.
The other cups her from beneath, and I bounce her in the middle of our bedroom, letting her own weight seat her deeper than the bed ever allowed.
She wails at the new angle, and her breasts jolt against my chest, and her yelps break into sobs against my throat.
“You’re so deep— Soren— oh my god, you’re so??—”
I wipe the tears off her cheek with the pad of my thumb claw and never once break rhythm.
“I can’t— Soren, I can’t— don’t stop??—”
She comes on me again and again until she’s crying with it, and still she grinds down to meet me. I snap my wings open and wrap them forward, curtaining us in the dark, and I stop being gentle about anything.
I can’t hold back any longer. I press my face into the curve of her neck and roar as I spill into her, pulse after pulse, filling my mate until she whimpers at the warmth of it and sags in my arms.
For a long moment the only sounds in our cabin are her breathing and mine.
I ease myself out of her, and she makes one small complaining sound that I tuck away. I lay us both into the wrecked bed and pull her against my chest, her skin slick with sweat, her heart calming under my hand.
“I will be more careful next time,” I tell her. “I got carried away.”
“Mm,” she manages.
I search for the right words and settle on the plain ones. “It feels very good to be inside you.”
She tips her head up and gives me a drunk little smile. I search her scent for the sour thread and can’t find it anywhere.
“So,” she murmurs against my chest. “What’s next?”
I weigh whether tonight can hold any more. “I have another gift for you. But it can wait.”
“Huh?” Her head comes up off my chest.
“I need to claim you.” I stroke her back with the flat of my claw, careful along the soft line of her. “It is different for gargoyles. There is no urge driving me, no pull I can’t refuse. I only need your permission.”
“And what about me? Do I claim you back?”
“No.” I choose the next words with all the care I have left. “If you agree, you will stop aging for as long as I stand. Your time begins moving again only after I fall.”
“Ohhh.” The size of it settles over her.
I keep stroking her back. “We can wait. It is not important.”
She pushes herself up on one arm, worn out as she is, and frowns down at me. “It sounds important to you.”
I turn my face toward the dark window and keep my wanting off it. “You just gave me your body. I won’t keep taking from you.”
“Soren.” She flattens her hand right over the rumble she causes. “I can’t give you my heart if you won’t take it.”
She’s sweat-soaked and trembling, frowning at me while she offers me forever. “I do not understand what I did to deserve such a blessing.”
“I promise you, I’m the lucky one.”
I gather her up, and my clawed hand cradles the back of her neck, tilting her face to mine. “Are you sure, Treasure?”
“Yes.” Her hand comes up and covers mine. “I’m yours, Soren.”
I don’t make her wait for it. I strike fast, and my fangs sink into the curve of her neck.
She cries out and her nails dig into my back, ten small points of pressure that couldn’t mark my hide, and I hold her through it and drink.
Her blood runs hot over my tongue, sweeter than anything the earth ever grew, and somewhere in the middle of it the bond comes down over us both, a weight and a warmth that will never lift.
Her hands slide weakly down my back and fall away.
I unlatch and lick the wound closed until the bleeding stops.
The mark on her brown skin is mine, and it is permanent.
Her eyes have already drifted shut. I gather her close and hold her while her breathing deepens into sleep.
My eyes burn. Gargoyles do not cry, but if one did, there would be no witness tonight but the pines.
I have my mate. I am not going to spend this life alone.
I ease her out of my arms, and she doesn’t stir. Down the hall, the bathroom tap sputters and then runs hot, and I stop the drain and let the tub fill.
My mate will wake clean, dressed, and cared for, with my mark on her neck. She gave me her forever tonight. I plan to spend mine proving she chose right.