21. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
B ayne
Being trapped in canine form for so long muddled my thoughts. It’s a wonder I didn’t become feral. One good thing came of it, though, memories of my homeworld got lost in the fog. I’ve been bombarded with them since my return to two legs, and none of them were good. Now, though, sitting with my female, I’d like to page through them. If my thoughts get drawn to the bad times, Willa will pull me back.
“You might call it primitive, but it felt right to me. We were a warrior people, but it was out of necessity. There were many tribes, all vying for land and resources. We rarely killed each other, though. We vanquished by stealing livestock or driving them out of the fertile valley where we wanted to make our camp.”
“Sounds kind of like the Native Americans on Earth. They used to count coup, which meant riding up to an enemy and touching them with a short stick and riding away unscathed. I think it was a show of courage for prestige more than aggression.”
“So you understand.” He smiles at that and nods. “My father died right after my Spirit Quest ceremony. It’s when a boy becomes a male. I had to live on my own in the wilderness for ten days. A boy is sent out naked, with no food, clothes, or weapons, and is left on his own. When I returned, I felt like a full-grown male.
“Not only did I have no one to rely on but myself during those ten days, but I became closer to my canine form. We are born in our humanoid form but are able to shift by the time we reach five or six lunars . We worked together on my Spirit Quest more closely than we ever had. It was harsh and difficult and the best time of my life.”
In my mind, WarDog is lying with his head on his paws, his ears perked forward, tail wagging slowly, he sighs with contentment as I reminisce.
Yes, the best, he agrees.
Willa nods approvingly and says nothing. It’s one of the things I like best about her, she can tolerate the silences. I feel closest when we sit in the quiet together.
“And you, Willa? What of your life before you met me?”
“I guess females don’t need to go on Spirit Quests to declare we’re adults. We know when we’re women—nature makes a big red announcement.” She shrugs. “So mom died right around then and it was just me and dad and grandad.
“I liked digging in our huge backyard garden as a child. When mom died I loved growing all sorts of vegetables to go with the meat we hunted and those we had on the farm. I loved climbing trees, hunting, and camping. I was a tomboy. Did that translate?”
I shake my head.
“A girl who likes to do what boys do. I was never into frilly dresses or dances.”
Her eyes fly to mine. I guess we’re both thinking of the dance the other night.
“You seemed to enjoy the dance on the Fool . And I have to say I enjoyed your dress even if you didn’t,” my voice is deep and rough as my gaze makes a slow slide all the way from her pink lips to her toes.
“Well, yeah. I guess I’ve grown to like those things, too.”
Mate. This conversation caught WarDog’s attention. Mount her, make her ours. He wants to mate her. He’s wanted this since that first day in the cell when her fingers slipped under his ruff and stroked all the best spots as if someone had drawn her a map. She gave him a name like they were best friends. How could either of us not grow to love her?
Love. Is that what this is? I wish my mother was alive. She’d explain my complicated emotions. In our tribe sex was freely shared between mature males and females in humanoid and canine forms. I have never felt like this with any female I’ve lain with. Sharing with only one partner was reserved for mated couples.
Although actually there’s nothing complicated about how I’m feeling. I like this female, I have affection for her. I want to mount her, but it’s so much deeper than that. Most of all, I want to protect her.
I push WarDog back. He resists but then gives up and lies down with his head on his front paws.
“I wish you’d go back to the Fool ,” I blurt before I know the words have flown from my mouth. Glancing down, I have the good sense to act contrite, knowing she doesn't like me telling her what to do.
“I know.”
“You say you want to protect me and keep me in humanoid form, but I protected you today. My belly clenches in fear just thinking what that animal might have done to you.”
When the picture of that thing spearing her with one of its deadly pincers darts into my brain, I wonder if I could go on without her. The thought slams into me that I already think of Willa as my mate. I’ll need to tell her.
Soon , WarDog agrees.
“Can I convince you to return to the ship?” I ask, knowing the answer.
She shakes her head, but does it with a smile. Not just any smile, but the slight tip of her lips that is an invitation for kissing . . . and more.
“I’m a canine. I have a strong need to assert dominance,” I warn as I rise to my feet. In my mind, WarDog leaps to his feet, too, his whole body at attention.
Sniffing deeply he urges, She wants us. Take her, hold her, bite her, make her ours.
NO , I snarl, our truce forgotten as jealousy overtakes me, she wants me not you. Back off. His head drops, his tail slips between his legs and he slinks out of sight.
Oblivious to my inner struggle with my beast, Willa responds, “I’m a female,” she says with a toss of her long brown hair, “I have a strong desire to feel dominated.” Her smile isn’t slight anymore, it’s welcoming. “Some of the time,” she adds with a shrug of one shoulder.
I practically leap to bridge the distance between us. Pulling her to her feet, I grab her shoulders and slant my lips across hers in a claiming kiss. I’m addicted to her taste. It reminds me of the warm sunshine back home.
“I know we don’t want younglings, but as soon as it’s safe, I want to take you,” I growl into her ear, then assault her mouth as if it’s an enemy encampment. I would be taking her by force, except she puts up no resistance as I slide into the warm recesses of her mouth, tasting and tempting in return.
Her fingers lodge in my ruff. She must love the feel. Her fingers always rest there when I’m nearby whether I’m in humanoid or canine form.
“Make love with me, Bayne.”
“Yes. When it’s safe.”
“It is safe. The doc said as of today it’s working, and it’s completely reversible if we want to change things in the future.”
I pull back to look at her by the light of the laser lantern. As I inspect her face, I see no deception, just sincerity and urgent need.
My cock, already hard and wanting, twitches in my pants at the idea of taking her fully tonight. I can’t mate her, I know. We haven’t discussed it. She’d need to understand what she would be getting into and agree to it. But just the thought of sliding into her wet heat makes me more excited than I’ve ever been.
I loosen the latigo cords holding the top of her tunic together, then gather the hem between my fingers and pull it over her head.
“I want you so much, my Willa,” I whisper in her ear. “Tell me you’re ready for this.”
“I want you too, Bayne.”
To add truth to her words, her cool palms slide over my hot flesh to my waist, then rise to burrow into the pelt at my shoulders. I nip down the side of her neck, loving her sharp intake of breath when my fangs graze her skin.
She nips me back. If she was canine, her gentle nip might break my skin. As it is, though, her flat blunt teeth just tell me how much she wants me.
She eagerly pulls my loincloth below my knees, leaving it to me to step out of it because her hands are busy roaming across my ass.
“You’re the sexiest male I’ve ever known,” she says as her palms skim my flesh as if she wants to be certain to touch every spot on my body.
I’m planning what I want to do to her with as much care and precision as my tribe would prepare for an enemy invasion. I debate whether to conquer her slow and tender or hard and fast. Should I build her to the peak of pleasure with my mouth first, or let us come together quickly in the way we’ve been avoiding for days?
“Make love with me, Bayne. I need you,” she says, as her hand slides around my hip and grips my hard cock at the root. “We’ve waited long enough.”
WarDog is close, urging me on, flooding me with baser needs I usually keep at bay. I don’t shift, but it feels like my fangs elongate, making it easier for me to slide their tips along her tender flesh.
Again, I feel a surge of resentment. He had her to himself for three lunars. What we’re about to do is for me, not him. I force him back, Stay there or I will leash you, I threaten. He cowers, whimpers, and obeys. I get a sudden twinge of guilt for treating him like this after he has had to endure ten annums of enslavement, but I quickly tamp it down, force my attention from my interfering canine, and focus on the delectable female before me.
Careful not to prick her skin, I glide my fangs down the column of her neck and across her collar bone. This causes her to lift on her toes with a little shiver.
“Do that again,” her whisper is deep and breathy.
I oblige, shaking my head back and forth across the skin-covered bone. The scent of her arousal blooms on the air. I mimic my actions on her other collarbone and hear her suck in air as if the sheer pleasure surprises her.
I trace my fangs lower, over the gentle rise of her breast, then across the pink crest. This pulls an appreciative hum from the back of her throat.
My hands are nestled just below her waist in the valley just before the swell of her shapely ass. Moving them lower, I cup her ass cheeks and yank her against me, grinding my cock along her seam, my knees bent so they’re the right height to provide her pleasure.
She mirrors my actions, her hands on my cheeks, ensuring we stay pressed together as she rides me, coating me with the slick evidence of her desire.
It feels like I’ve waited an eternity for this, even though it’s been a mere handful of days since we acknowledged our feelings for each other. We’re both ready, though. WarDog’s urges amplify my own desires. If I don’t keep control of him I might act rougher than Willa wants.
She pulls away enough that I feel cool night air against my skin where her warm skin had been. Grabbing my hand, she attempts a smile, but she’s too deep in the well of passion to pull it off. It’s too serious, too needy to look happy. It’s sexier than that and intensifies my desire.
Dragging me toward the bed, her brown eyes gaze deeply into mine. Her expression speaks of want and need and desperation, and so much more. I respond, my eyes blazing with my own story of affection for her.
She sits on the edge of the bed and pats the spot next to her. I don’t want to join her there, not yet. I want to taste her again. I’ve wondered if her taste is addictive, but decided it’s not the taste, but the feeling of being the one responsible for providing her bliss. I love the sensation of giving her pleasure, the sounds of her moans and heavy breathing.
The canine inside me, a moment ago fully submissive, jumps up and barks, his hackles rising along his spine.
Trouble, he snarls, capturing my attention. I follow the direction of his thoughts and look out through the clear tent. My blood runs cold as I freeze, my mind flying through every strategy I can use to keep us alive.
“Grab your bow and arrows! Now!” I tell her.
Somewhere in the dim recesses of my mind, I’m proud of our connection. Willa doesn’t pause a modicum , she follows my orders immediately without question.
“Shit!” she sounds panicked.
As soon as she was alerted to the urgency of the situation by the tone of my voice, she became more aware of our surroundings. It isn't hard to miss the dozen creatures that have surrounded the clear globe we thought ensured our comfort. They’re the same as the animal I killed this afternoon. Willa called them tarantu-scorps.
The tent provides protection from the elements, but I could easily slice through it with my fang. Certainly, these creatures, with their deadly pincers could slash it with little effort. I’ve bent and retrieved my bow and hung my quiver on my back. I don’t know why they haven't attacked already. I’m sure it’s imminent.
I tear my eyes from the scene outside the globe to glance at Willa. She’s standing, bow drawn, her quiver over her shoulder.
“Stand back to back with me, Love. I’m better with a bow than you, but you’ll have to help. We’re vastly outnumbered. You only have twelve arrows, make them count.”
We only have twenty-four arrows between us, and who knows how many creatures are out there. My guess is a dozen, but there could be an army of them hiding farther away in the shadows.
The calm continues for only a moment more, then all of them step forward at once. Do they have a hive mind? That will make them even more deadly adversaries. Several of them use their front pincers to horizontally slash the tent material. The now detached top of the structure blows away in the light breeze getting caught in a nearby tree. In that one moment, we’re completely exposed and unprotected.
I feel Willa’s warm back against mine and take a moment to pray she can live through this assault. The best thing I can do to help her is to kill the enemy.
No thoughts fly through my head, my hands take charge—they move faster than I can think. They proceed on their own accord, reaching behind me to grab an arrow, nocking it, and letting fly. It penetrates directly where I was aiming—the beady black eye. An otherworldly shriek pierces the air, and the animal staggers, then falls.
“Aim for the eyes if you can, Love,” I remind her. Because of the way the creatures are built, it’s hard to aim for the heart.
“Right,” her voice is tight. She’s fully concentrating on her task. Good.
I don’t know if the animals have some sense of what their pack is thinking, but a few attack as the rest wait and watch, coming at us in waves. I don’t take my eyes off my foe for a heartbeat, but worry about Willa. I pull my thoughts to the task at hand. I’m not protecting my female if I remain unfocused.
I’ve felled six of them with eight arrows, their hairy corpses litter the bed and floor of the structure. Their comrades keep on coming, stepping over their felled packmates and forging ahead.
Willa and I are well attuned to each other. When I turn, her body naturally follows my motion. When the enemy in front of me has stopped aggressing, I turn us so I can help on her side of the melee.
I’m proud when I see three felled beasts on her side of the clearing. Launching three arrows in swift succession, I kill three more.
“How many left?” I ask when I’ve turned us in our original directions.
“Four arrows, one beast,” she answers, evidently not knowing whether I was asking about arrows or animals.
“Two left on my side,” I tell her.
“Shit!” she says after launching an arrow, then, “Gotcha, bastard!”
Both the creatures in front of me attack at once. The ungainly beasts move swiftly when they want to. I shoot my arrows quickly, but after felling one of the two, my next shot misses its mark.
As I pull another arrow from my quiver, I hear the squealing whine of the last beast in the throes of death—Willa killed him with her last arrow.
I hear her panting, feel her torso heaving since our backs are still pressed together. We rotate in a complete circle, both of us wanting to ensure no more of the ugly beasts are creeping up on us in the darkness.
We continue to circle. In the relative calm, we both realize we forgot to call for backup.
She says, “The comms!” as I call into my comm, “Beam us up.”
“Wait!” she says a moment later as she pulls a tunic over her head. “Okay,” she tells them.
I don’t know why I didn’t call for help a moment ago. The heat of battle put the idea of rescue by beaming my particles through the air completely out of my mind.
Soon Willa and I are standing on the Fool’s Errand , panting, bows in hand, backs pressed together.
Willa
My heart is pounding in my chest, my hands, rock steady until a moment ago, are fluttering.
I handled the height of battle like a champ. Now, though, I’m having a complete breakdown. What was I thinking? I forced myself onto that mission. Just because I’m a strong Texas girl and know how to kill a deer with a rifle does not mean I had any business going to a foreign planet with a bow and fucking arrows. Against monsters!
Bayne spun on his heel and is facing me now. He squeezes me in a bear hug, then pulls away to look into my face.
“You’re not okay?” he asks, concern written all over his beautiful face.
“You saved my life. I’m an idiot.”
He presses my face to his chest and strokes my hair. “Not an idiot,” he says. I feel his chest rumble as I hear the warm words. “Stubborn.”
I’m trembling and crying. I try to convince myself it’s the aftermath of the fight, the adrenaline. I don’t want to admit it’s from sheer terror, albeit delayed.
Captain Zar crashes through the transporter room doorway.
“Are you both alright?” his growly voice is deeper than usual.
“Unharmed,” Bayne informs him, then bends to peer into my face. “You are unharmed, right?”
“Yes.” I nod. “Just about to come unglued, that’s all.”
“I want a full report. I know you want some time to gather yourselves, but I need to know what happened.”
I understand. He has no idea if we were attacked by mutant creatures straight out of a 1950s B movie or Daneur Khour himself.
He leads the way to the bridge and we follow. Most of our little family not-so-subtly line the halls to see what’s going on. Several of the women call, “I hope everything’s all right, Willa.” A few offer for me to come see them if I need anything. There’s nothing wrong with me that a long shower and a moment in Bayne’s arms won’t cure.
Once on the bridge, we give report, and by ‘we’ I mean Bayne. He’s sitting in the first mate’s seat, with me on his lap, his arms warmly tucking me against him.
“Take a few hoaras to decompress,” Zar instructs. “We’ll meet in the ludus after dinner to plan our next strategy. I’m proud of you,” he says warmly, “both of you.”
While we were talking, Callista on comms pulled up satellite footage of the carnage at our campsite. It’s barely visible through the thick canopy of trees and fading light. She displays it on every other window on the bullet-shaped bridge. The windows double as screens. I just let my eyelids flicker closed, not wanting to see the taratu-scorps for one more moment, but when I get up to leave, I can’t help but see the tableau on Fairea.
The creatures are even more gross and scary now. Seeing their disgusting dead bodies, legs akimbo, the area littered with blood, makes me shiver in revulsion.
“As I said,” Zar repeats, “you did well. I apologize. I would have never let you go so unprepared had I known, but there was no description of these creatures in the planet’s database. Perhaps Khour has brought them from another planet to dissuade people from entering the forest that surrounds his compound. Or perhaps he gets perverted pleasure in hunting them himself. I should have never let you go. In the future, no one goes back to that planet without lasers.”
Zar bows his head and thumps his chest at Bayne. It’s an honor one gladiator gives another—a sign of the utmost respect. It makes me feel good for Bayne. For so long he was in canine form, fighting in the arena. Now he’s getting recognition for what he did. He deserves it.
Zar turns to me and performs the same actions in my direction, his gaze never leaving mine. Did he just give me the gladiator salute? Me? I’m practically dissolving into a puddle of fear.
“You did well, Willa. You killed many of the creatures. You have the spirit of a warrior.”
“Th-thanks.” It may not be true, but just hearing that I have the spirit of a warrior makes me feel like one.
Perhaps Zar read my thoughts, because he adds, “Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s the ability to do what needs to be done despite your fears.”
Wow! No wonder Zar was voted captain, he has wisdom and compassion.
Bayne places his warm palm on the small of my back and escorts me out of the room and back to my cabin. The moment the door closes behind us, he turns me in his arms and hugs me tight.
“I failed you, Willa. I shouldn’t have let you come with me.”
“Please, Bayne. Stop blaming yourself. You tried everything you could short of forbidding me to go, which would have hurt our relationship more than what happened on Fairea just now. Let it go. I feel like I have tarantu-scorp blood all over me and all I want is a shower.”
“You do.”
“What?”
“You do have blood on you. It’s black, so I know it isn’t yours.”
“Ack! Out of my way!” Although I’m ready to barge right through him to get to the bathroom, he sidesteps just in time. If circumstances were different, I’d love for him to join me. We’ve shared a shower several times. It’s great foreplay. Now I just want the black bug blood off me. Immediately!
I turn on the water and step in before it’s warm. Keeping my eyes closed, I let the water pour over me until I assume all the blood has washed down the drain, then I open my eyes and wash. And scrub. And wash some more. At times the pictures of what just happened flash into my mind. Other times I hear the bugs’ high screams of pain as if they were in the shower with me.
Eventually, I wrap what happened into a little box inside my mind and stow it away in the back attic where I keep the really painful memories of my mom during the last part of her illness, and the regret that I’ll never see my dad again. Bye-bye tarantu-scorps. I relegate that to the back of my mind too.
Taking a deep breath, I allow my thoughts to move to more pleasant things. Bayne’s outside this door. He had some blood on him, too.
“Water’s at a premium on a ship, babe,” I call to him. “I think we should conserve and wash together, don’t you?”
He opens the door immediately, he was obviously waiting for my invitation. “Close brushes with death tend to do strange things to people,” he says. “I saw it all the time on Skylose.”
He joins me in the shower, his eyes blazing in passion.
“What type of strange things?” I ask, a sexy smile slashed across my face.
“It’s so hard to explain.”
I watch as the warm water pours down on him and his eyes brighten as he looks at me.
“Let me show you instead.”
His head dips toward me, those plump sexy lips unerringly finding mine. “I worried about you,” he husks into my ear to be heard over the running water.
“It was scary,” I admit.
“I have you now. You’re here in my arms. This is how it should be.”
His golden gaze seems to delve into my soul. I know he was worried about me during the fight, but it’s only now I realize how worried I was about him. If one of those hideous things had killed him today, I don’t know what I would do.
I need to tell him! It feels urgent that he know my feelings for him right this minute.
I step next to him so closely it’s a miracle any water can slide between us. Looking up into his beautiful face, I grab his cheeks and force his gaze to mine. “I love you Bayne. I love you and don’t want to lose you.”
He smiles. It’s not a big, beaming, dramatic smile, but the sweetest show of upturned lips that screams how happy my words made him. Then his smile widens, giving me a front-row seat to those sexy fangs.
“I love you too, my Willa. Let me show you how much.”
His lips slant to mine, sheltering me from the pelting water as his mouth takes mine. I love the warmth of him, his spicy taste, the firm softness of his lips. My body and mind have changed their focus from the adrenaline rush of a life-and-death struggle to the raging hormones of desire.
My pricked nipples graze his chest as I pull him to me, my hands roaming his back. I love foreplay, and goodness knows, he’s so very good at it. But I need none now.
Reaching between us, I capture his hard cock and stroke. Over the past few days, I’ve explored his cock, but it still fascinates me. It has three distinct parts, like three bulges stacked on top of each other. I never got my mouth past the second part, but it strikes me now that all three of those are going to be inside me in a matter of minutes. I’m not certain he'll fit. But one thing I do know, we’ll work it out.
I slip to my knees, my hands following slowly, sliding down the hills and valleys of his ripped chest, along masculine hips, and now grasping his muscular thighs.
I love his spicy, almost cinnamon taste, but barely snatch a taste because the water is streaming down on us. My tongue circles his head. In bed, I like to do this lazily, but there’s nothing lazy about what’s happening now. My tongue is swift and on a mission.
Perhaps what happened on Fairea is still playing in my head, because I feel a frenzied need to stay focused on this moment—here with Bayne.
I glance up to see him watching me and find my inner exhibitionist as I exaggerate every lick and swirl of my tongue. I add background music to my little show by moaning. His hands lodge in my hair as he shutters his eyes and tips his head back.
I love him in this pose—the powerful gladiator reduced to weakness by a woman on her knees. His Adam’s Apple is prominent, his rounded chin pointing upward, and his hips making little thrusting movements.
Seeing him like this fuels my excitement. Although water’s sluicing over me, I’m sure my core is wet enough with my own lubrication to accept him right here in the shower.
Cupping his balls, I plunge onto him in one swift motion, my lips getting as far as the valley between the second and third bulge. I’ve discovered a really sensitive spot here. It wasn’t hard to find, it always garners a throaty growl when I flick it with my tongue.
A few more pumps of my head, a few more flicks on his special spot, and Bayne jets into my mouth. His semen is hot and forceful. I love the intimacy of the act.
He slides his hands to my shoulders and pulls me to standing, then lifts me higher until I wrap my legs around his waist. Dipping my head, I lick along the seam of his lips, then press inside his mouth, loving the taste of him, the sexy communion of our wordless exchange.
“I’m going to make love to you, Willa. Come.”
He turns off the shower, escorts me out, and grabs a towel to rub me dry. Even though he just came, his cock is hard again, jutting at me, ready. His eyes rake down my body, the look on his face tells me he loves what he sees.
I grab a towel and get to work on him, not wanting to wait an extra second to get to bed. Refusing to wait for him to dry every spot, I grab his towel from him and toss it on the floor where it joins the one I discarded, then pull him into the bedroom.
When we’re inches from the bed, I suddenly feel shy. I turn in his arms and stretch on tiptoe to kiss him.
As frenzied as we were moments ago, everything has slowed down and become suddenly serious. He feels it too. His head cocks and his eyebrows lower in question. When he realizes he hasn’t spoken his query out loud, he says, “We can wait. We don’t have to—”
“We’ve waited long enough, Bayne. We deserve a medal for waiting. This is going to be amazing.”
“You’re already amazing,” he says. His words are sweet, but the look in his eyes, so warm, so full of love, is even sweeter.
He tenderly lifts me and sets me onto the middle of the bed, then prowls from the foot of the bed on his hands and knees. Splitting me open, his hands on my knees, he’s about to put his mouth on me when he stops.
My lids had already shuttered closed, but they pop open to see what stopped his forward motion. He’s sitting back on his heels, drinking me in with his gaze.
“You’re so beautiful, Willa. I’m a lucky male.”
With that, he dips his head, and the time for talking is over. He nips my inner thigh from knee to the seam of my leg. His teeth don’t hurt, but they’re not particularly gentle. The touch is incendiary. Then he adds accelerant to the fire when I feel the sharp drag of one fang as it traces a fiery path back to my knee and up again. He’s careful not to draw blood, but there’s something about the danger that he could be slicing me to ribbons that is the ultimate turn-on.
My hands lodge in his soft ruff, then move to the top of his head to clutch there, my thumbs on the velvet of his pointed ears.
I love this part of him. It’s his alien aspect, his differences, that remind me of both our distinctions and our similarities.
He bends his head and spears his tongue into me. It’s shocking in its intensity, especially because there was no preamble.
“So good, Bayne,” I whisper, even though I know so many more good things are in store for me.
He releases a throaty growl, telling me just how good this is for him, too. Then his tongue, so thick and blunt as it pierced my channel, becomes thin and flexible when he points it and swiftly flicks my clit with dedicated precision.
I move my hands to clench the sheets, not wanting to hurt him as my grip tightens with every increment my passion ratchets up.
My hips thrust as I raise my knees, my heels approaching my bottom as I strain to find release. When one finger slides into my wet channel, my orgasm hits, my internal muscles clenching around him.
My ass lifts off the bed and I ride the waves of ecstasy as his fluttering tongue and beckoning fingers milk every last drop of pleasure from my release.
Was it only a few hours ago that I experienced one of the most terrifying moments of my life? Because now I’m relaxed and safe and loved. This moment is made all the more perfect because of what happened on Fairea.
I love this male. I love his quiet strength and his protective impulses and his tenderness.
“Make love with me Bayne.”
Even with my blatant invitation, he pauses to kiss me, then nips the column of my neck and moves lower to my shoulder. His blunt front teeth scrape the tip of one nipple as his fingers pluck the other. WarDog’s close. I can feel it. It’s almost as if I can feel him lurking behind Bayne’s eyes.
I’m so amped up from what we’ve already done and what we’re about to do that I feel my heart pounding in my clit. My channel is clenching, waiting to be filled.
Bayne switches breasts, his mouth on the other one, stubbornly refusing to take us where we both so desperately want to go. I want to pound on his back in frustration, but I just smile, knowing he delays our gratification in order to make it better.
Finally, I take things into my own hands—literally—by reaching between us and notching him at my channel. He would have to be made of steel to say no to this.
Instead of plunging into me, though, he makes sure our gazes are locked, then drops one perfect kiss on my lips. He slides into me in a slow plunge.
I’m so ready for him, so wet, so primed, but it is still an invasion. I’ve never been with a male nearly as well-endowed as Bayne. When he gets to his second bulge, he pulses in and out in order to get past the barrier.
It is so deliciously sensual, so arousing, I feel my internal muscles spasming around him. My eyes shock open in surprise. I didn’t feel this orgasm coming. It’s a delightful mini-climax that is not only pleasurable for me, but milked Bayne’s cock to the point he grunts, trying to control his own release.
When my muscles quit spasming, Bayne continues to press into me. His third bulge is bigger than the other two. I never thought he’d fit into me, but we’re both determined, and he finally slides all the way in, up to the hilt.
It’s tight and rides the razor’s edge between pleasure and pain. When he begins rocking his hips against me, my awareness of pain vanishes, and all I feel is pleasure.
I’m swimming in a pool of pleasure—no, bliss. I’m in ecstasy when I feel him pull all the way out and then drive all the way in again. Each bulge provides endless stimulation to the inside of my channel.
He grunts with enjoyment every time he hits bottom. I’m surprised to hear my own moans of contentment, now so loud I imagine they can be heard all the way to the solarium.
He quickens his pace, which puts me over the edge again, my orgasm made even more intense by having his huge cock pressing against my inner walls. He doesn’t stop, he just keeps thrusting until I’m having one long orgasm with highs and lows and pauses. It’s like a rollercoaster ride with ups and downs but it never lets up.
Everything seems to be building to one final explosion. When it hits, it’s so potent, so overwhelming, that a scream rips from my throat. I nuzzle my head to him, somehow finding his shoulder and biting down as my eyes roll into the back of my head in ecstasy.
He growls as his thrusts quicken for that last sprint toward pleasure, then he comes. His jets spurt into me, bathing my internal walls with his hot release. He’s a big male—every part of him—but for some reason, he feels even bigger now.
“Um, Bayne?” I don’t know how to phrase my question.
“We’re knotted. From listening to the other males, it appears it’s not common in all races. It will go down soon.”
I don’t know what evolutionary purpose it serves, but it ensures I’ll get my cuddle fix every single time we make love. I like it.
He relaxes on top of me, careful to put his weight on his forearms as he rests his head next to me, his lips on my neck, too tired to pucker. After a moment of this, he kisses me, then flips us so he’s on the bottom with me on top. We’re still connected.
He wipes stray hair off my face, then rewards me with a grunt.
“High praise,” I say.
“Yes. Highest praises.”
Oh, the look in his eyes. I think that warm, melty, lovey look in his eyes just might be better than the best-ever-sex-in-the-world that we just had.
“I love you too,” I say.
For some reason, I get the feeling that WarDog is close. I don’t know how I know, we’ve never discussed how it actually works inside his head. I know they share the space in there, and I know WarDog is sentient to some extent.
I assume he didn’t just pop out now. I imagine he was present for the last hour. This doesn’t feel odd, though. It’s like a bonus.
“I love you too, WarDog,” I say without a hint of awkwardness.
I’m rewarded with a little chuff that sounds so WarDog, yet flies from Bayne’s mouth.
“Lucky me,” I say with a sigh as I settle into the covers for a well-deserved nap. “When I fell for you I got a twofer.”