Chapter 36 Meryn #2
What? Doesn’t he like this? I pull my mouth off him, standing slowly, uncertain.
His face is flushed, eyes dark with promise.
“Turn around,” he says then, and my body remembers taking his instruction in the woods. My skin goes molten. I comply, shaking with need.
There’s the telltale whisper of a dagger leaving its sheath, and I don’t even have a moment to process my confusion. A millisecond later, the laces along my spine are all loosening at once.
His dagger clatters against the sandy stone at our feet.
He just cut me out of the dress, slicing through the ties in one smooth swipe. I swallow another moan at the image, aching to turn back around but waiting for his next command.
“I need to be inside you,” Stark says then, his breath ghosting against my neck. His calloused fingers slide inside my panties and yank them down to my feet. I fight to stay standing as my knees weaken at his words. “You’ve been taking the draught, right?”
“Yes, yes,” I say hurriedly. Our party made sure to bring enough of the contraceptive draught we all take when we departed for this journey. Just in case. “So you believe me, then? That I’m sure?”
He licks the back of my neck, and a moan tears out of me. “I’ll believe you when you show me how wet you are. Bend over, princess.”
His brusque order lights me on fire. I slowly comply, holding my own ankles and flushing as I imagine his view. My bare backside, presented for his pleasure. My center, aching for him.
“Show me that you’re ready for me.” His hands skim up the insides of my thighs and then stop just short of my aching need, torturous. Through my legs, I watch as he kneels behind me. Pleasure lashes through me as he presses his mouth to my slit and licks me front to back, lapping up my wetness.
I arch and cry out, already half senseless.
“You’re dripping,” he murmurs, and the movement of his lips and the low buzz of his voice send tremors through me. He presses his mouth to my clit, and I moan, then again when his tongue circles me, teasing me with intensity.
“Wa-wait,” I stutter out, and he stops beneath me, his breath still hot on my tender lips. “I need to hear you say that you believe you won’t ruin me. That you’re not going to walk away from this again.”
He presses a kiss deep against my slit, and I fight back a moan. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Then he stands, and I nearly weep at the loss of his heat at the center of my thighs. He grabs my upper arm, his hold deliciously tight on me, and yanks me up to standing, too.
Stark puts his mouth next to my ear, the warmth of his breath sending tingles from my head to my toes. His huge body is wrapped around my back, and his throbbing, insistent cock presses into my lower back.
“But I am absolutely going to fucking ruin you, princess, starting right now.” I go breathless, boneless. “Turn around.”
I comply faster than thought, spinning around to face him, bare skin against bare skin. He pivots me until my back is to the rock outcropping, and we step back together until my flushed skin hits cool stone.
“I’m not going to be able to hold myself back with you, Meryn,” Stark warns me. His eyes search mine in the gathering darkness. I reach a hand up and bring his mouth to mine in answer, crushing my lips to his. He pulls away, and I gasp.
His rough hand comes up to palm my breast, fingers tweaking around a nipple, making me writhe against him.
“Fuck. You unleash me, Meryn. You make me lose control.”
“Good,” I reply, my voice breathy with want. “I want to break your control. Show me what it looks like when you’re unleashed.”
The sound he makes then is primal, pure desire voiced. I arch into him just hearing it. I want him. Goddess, I want him. My hands come up to his bare shoulders, and I cling to him as he brings his mouth back down to mine.
We devour each other, and I mewl into his mouth as his hands move to cup my ass, pulling me up and into him. His cock brushes against my slick folds, and I cry out, the sound disappearing into his mouth.
He rubs himself through my folds again and again until I’m whimpering.
Then he maneuvers me until the thick head of his cock is teasing at my entrance. I shiver and clench, aching for him.
“Goddess, Stark, please,” I cry into his lips, nonsensical. “Please, please, I need you inside me.”
Something in him breaks as I beg. His large hands pull me down onto him, his cock sliding into me, fast, filling me, making me whole. His size makes my eyes water. I gasp and pull back to look at him, wrapping my legs around his back.
Stark’s gaze is glazed over, heated. He glances down between us, watching where we meet, and slides slowly in and out of me. “You’re so tight, but you take me so well,” he murmurs, mesmerized, continuing to slowly push in and pull out, fucking me lightly.
My chest heaves against his, my hard nipples scraping against his skin. “I was made for you.” The words come out whining, needy.
His eyes snap to mine. “No, princess. We were made for each other. Now hold on tight.”
I do as he says, and he gathers me up in his hands. Then he yanks me up and then back down again, sheathing himself deeper inside me with each thrust until he’s buried to the hilt.
I’m making noises now, sobs and groans and incoherent pleading. Stark’s cock is filling me in ways I didn’t know I needed, so deep that it’s everywhere.
He sets a punishing rhythm, erasing all thought from my mind until all I am is this, here, us.
I throw my head back and realize with a jolt that he’s put a hand behind my head to shield my skull from the rock behind us. The thoughtful care for me—even as he’s fucking me roughly and desperately—careens me closer to the edge.
Stark nuzzles my neck and then nips his way down to my collarbone, fucking me senseless all the while. The night sky wheels above me, stars making trails of light against the dark. I shut my eyes and give myself over to sensation.
Stark’s rhythm speeds up, and I press my face against his neck, gathering and tightening as the world narrows down to just us. The pull of him inside me, the push as he fills me deeper and deeper—
One more thrust and I’m lost, my orgasm exploding through me like a snowstorm.
He holds me as I shudder, keeping himself deep inside me as I clench around his cock again and again.
It’s only when I start to come down that Stark picks up that rhythm again, thrusting into me as he pulls me down to him. Impossibly, he grows even harder inside me. I’m moaning into his ear, repeating his name, insensible, as he speeds up toward his own climax.
Then he’s shouting as he spills inside me, filling me with pulsing wet heat.
We pant and cling to each other, sticky with sweat, the cool breezes of the desert around us only just finally starting to register.
“Stark,” I murmur, and he pulls back to look at my face. The depth of emotion I see there scares me and settles me all at once.
I close my eyes and let my cheek rest on his shoulder, humming with contentment. Stark holds me close to him as his breathing slows, then slowly pulls away, finding what remains of our clothing. I push his hands away as he offers me the fabric, and he understands what I need without me asking.
Stark lays the layers of clothing down on the smoothest part of the ground and then gathers me to him.
Soon enough, I’m cradled by him again, bare skin to bare skin. Warm. Safe. Sated. I breathe in, and it smells like him—deep and musky and amber. I breathe out, and he shivers from the caress of it. The steady stroke of his calluses over my hip sends me to a quiet sleep.
It doesn’t last long.
I can’t have been asleep for ten minutes when sensations tear through my mental bonds—panic, fear, and excruciating pain. None of it’s my own.
I lurch awake, crying out.
Stark’s hands are on me, pulling me close like he’s going to shelter me from it.
“Meryn, focus,” Stark reminds me.
I blink rapidly and squeeze my eyes shut. My consciousness races along the bonds, seeking out the source of the suffering.
“It’s… Noemi,” I choke out.
She’s hurt. Her pain and terror are shrieking over our connection so loudly it’s like I can hear her screams from here, bouncing off the craggy stones all around us.
I’m on my feet and reaching for my clothes as I call Anassa. She tries to soothe me, but I won’t have any peace until I know Noemi’s safe.
The direwolves make short work of the distance Stark and I traveled by foot. We’re already dressed, my dress held together haphazardly by what’s left of its ties, Stark snatching his dagger from the sand, as our wolves sprint into the clearing.
“Back to the castle,” I tell Anassa shakily.
She snarls, channeling my fear and anger. “Get on.”