Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
LILY
The heat woke me like a wave crashing over my head—sudden and overwhelming, dragging me from sleep into a burning, desperate need. I gasped, my body arching off the furs, a keen tearing from my throat before I could stop it.
"Easy." The voice was a low growl, rough with sleep and something darker. Not Kaelan's steady rumble—this was sharper, fiercer. Riven. "I've got you."
His scarred hands found my hips, pulling me back against his chest. Through the bond, I felt his desire surge to meet mine—not the controlled burn of Kaelan, but a wildfire, barely contained, threatening to consume us both.
"The heat," I gasped, pressing back against him, feeling the hard length of him already pressing against my tail. "It's—"
"I know." His teeth grazed my shoulder, right over Kaelan's mark, and I shuddered at the sensation. "I've been feeling it build through the bond. Watching you sleep, smelling your need, waiting for you to wake." His voice dropped even lower. "It's been torture."
Through the bond, I could feel exactly what he meant—hours of lying beside me, hard and aching, his instincts screaming at him to take me while I slept. But he'd waited. He'd held himself back, letting me rest, even as every alpha instinct in his ancient body demanded he claim his omega.
The knowledge made something twist in my chest—something warm and tender beneath the desperate heat.
"You waited," I whispered, reaching back to touch his scarred face.
"I'll always wait for you." His lips brushed my palm, surprisingly gentle. Then his grip on my hips tightened, and his voice hardened. "But now you're awake. And I'm done waiting."
He lifted me in his arms, and I clung to him as he carried me not toward the pool, but toward a tunnel I hadn't explored before—a narrow passage that led away from the main cavern.
"Where—" I started, but he cut me off with a growl.
"My cave." His dark eyes burned into mine. "I want you surrounded by my scent when I take you. Want you to remember who you belong to." The possessiveness in his voice should have frightened me. Instead, it made the heat flare hotter, made my vent ache with desperate need.
The tunnel opened into a smaller cavern, and I gasped at what I saw.
Weapons lined the walls—ancient blades, spears tipped with bone and obsidian, nets woven from what looked like silver thread.
But in one corner, there was a nest—smaller than the one I'd built, rougher, but lined with soft furs and scattered with items that smelled of me.
A ribbon from my hair. A scrap of fabric from my old dress.
Things he'd collected, hoarded, treasured.
"You made a nest," I breathed, something squeezing in my chest. "For me."
"I've been preparing for you since the first night I scented you.
" He laid me down on the furs, his body covering mine, his scarred face hovering inches above me.
Through the bond, I felt a flash of vulnerability beneath his fierce exterior—the fear that I might find this too dark, too possessive, too much.
"I knew you were mine. I just had to wait for you to know it too. "
I pulled him down into a kiss, pouring everything I felt through the bond—acceptance, desire, love.
He groaned against my mouth, his control slipping, his kiss turning fierce and claiming.
His hands were rougher than Kaelan's, callused and scarred, but they moved over my body with devastating purpose.
He knew exactly where to touch—the sensitive scales along my tail, the curve where my hip would have been, the tender flesh of my inner arms. Every touch sent sparks shooting through me, building the heat higher and higher.
"I can feel your need," he growled against my throat, his teeth scraping over my pulse point.
"Through the bond. It's driving me wild.
" His hand slid down my stomach, toward my vent.
"Let me feel how wet you are for me." His fingers found my vent already open, already dripping with slick.
When he pressed two fingers inside without preamble, I cried out, my back arching off the furs.
"So ready," he rumbled, satisfaction thick in his voice. His fingers curled inside me, finding that spot that made stars explode behind my eyes. "So desperate to be filled. Have you been thinking about this? About my cock stretching you open?"
I couldn't answer—could only moan as his fingers pumped in and out, his thumb finding the spot in my vent and pressing hard. The pleasure built with brutal speed, climbing toward release.
"Come," he commanded, his voice a growl that vibrated through my bones. "Come on my fingers. Show me how much you need me."
I shattered, my inner walls clenching around his fingers, pleasure crashing through me in waves. But he didn't stop, didn't even slow. His fingers kept moving, kept stroking that spot inside me, driving me higher even as I was still coming down.
"Again," he demanded, adding a third finger, stretching me wider. "I want you dripping. Want you so sensitive that you feel every ridge when I finally push inside you."
"Riven—" I gasped, my body shaking with overstimulation. "Please—I need—"
"I know what you need." He withdrew his fingers abruptly, making me sob at the emptiness.
I heard his vent open, felt his length pressing against my tail—hot and hard and impossibly large.
Through the bond, I felt his anticipation—the barely leashed violence of his desire.
"You need to be claimed. Properly this time. Just us."
He flipped me onto my stomach, pulling my hips up, positioning me on my hands and tail in the furs. I felt exposed, vulnerable, my vent open and dripping, aching to be filled. His hands stroked down my back, over my scales, spreading me open to his gaze.
"So beautiful," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "Pink and swollen and desperate for me. I could look at you like this forever."
"Please," I keened, pushing back against him, feeling the tapered tip of his cock brush against my entrance. "Riven, please—I need you inside me—"
He positioned himself at my entrance, and I felt the difference immediately.
He was bigger than Kaelan—thicker, longer, his ridges sharper and more pronounced.
Through the dim light, I could see his length—pure black, almost absorbing the light, the ridges standing out in stark relief.
They spiraled around his shaft in a pattern that was more aggressive than Kaelan's, designed not for gentle pleasure but for fierce claiming.
The tapered tip pressed against my opening, beginning to part my folds, and I moaned at the first sensation of pressure. Even just his tip felt larger than I'd expected, stretching me as it began to ease inside.
"Remember this," he growled, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. "Remember who fills you so completely. Remember who makes you scream."
He thrust forward.
I screamed. He didn't enter me slowly—he drove home in one powerful stroke, burying himself to the hilt.
Every ridge scraped against my inner walls at once, the sensation so overwhelming I nearly came just from that first thrust. The stretch was immense, burning at the edges, his sharper ridges catching on every sensitive spot, dragging against nerve endings that were already oversensitive from his fingers.
"Take it," he snarled, holding himself still, buried so deep I could feel him pressing against places that had never been touched.
Through the bond, I felt his pleasure—the devastating tightness of my body around him, the way my walls clenched and fluttered around his ridges, the heat of my passage welcoming his invasion.
"Take all of me. You were made for this. "
I could feel every ridge pressing against my inner walls, creating more friction, more sensation.
I tried to count them as they pressed into me—one, two, three, four—but lost track as each one shifted inside me, creating new points of pressure, new sparks of pleasure.
The largest ridges near his base stretched me impossibly wide, pressing against that spot deep inside me with unrelenting pressure.
My inner walls clenched around him involuntarily, and I felt every ridge shift in response—felt the sharp edges drag against my sensitive flesh, felt the ridges at his base press even harder against that spot that made stars burst behind my eyes.
The sensation was overwhelming—too much and not enough all at once.
"Move," I begged, my hands fisting in the furs beneath me. "Riven—please—"
He pulled back slowly, letting me feel every ridge drag against my sensitive walls.
The sensation was almost too much—each sharp edge catching, tugging, creating friction that made my vision blur.
I felt them pulling at my inner walls, felt the way my body tried to grip each ridge as it withdrew, desperate to keep him inside me.
When only his tip remained inside, he paused, letting me feel the emptiness, the aching need to be filled again.
Then he slammed back in. I gave a high keen, pleasure exploding through me, my inner walls clamping down on his ridged length.
Every ridge slid back inside me at once, hitting new spots.
I felt the sharp edges catch on my sensitive flesh, felt the ridges at his base stretch me wide as they plunged deep.
The sensation was overwhelming—too much and not enough, pleasure and pain blurring together into something that made my entire body shake.
He set a punishing pace—hard, fast thrusts that drove the breath from my lungs with each stroke.
There was nothing gentle about it, nothing patient.
Each thrust pushed me forward in the furs, drove so deep I could feel him pressing against my very core.
His ridges scraped against my inner walls with every stroke, the sharp edges creating friction that built the pleasure to unbearable heights.