Chapter 21
twenty-one
“Where did you come from, Wildcat?”
His whisper in my ear.
That name that I had missed so much more than I was capable of imagining.
It’s Rune, it’s Rune, it’s Rune, went the thoughts in my head, and I no longer even felt my arms from how tightly I had wrapped them around his.
Then we were moving.
I had no idea where he was taking us, but my eyes were closed and I couldn’t have cared less. He could throw us into the ocean, and I wouldn’t mind—as long as he was in there with me.
The air suddenly shifted, and the darkness spread, and a door swung closed. My back was against a wall, and then Rune’s hands were everywhere on my back, my arms, my hair. He pressed himself against me while he made sure I was all in one piece, whispered under his breath things I didn’t understand.
Light exploded behind my closed lids, so close, and it urged me to open my eyes. When I did, my little bird was flying in the middle of whatever room we were in.
A weak cry escaped my lips when I loosened my grip around his neck and allowed him to pull me in front of him. I was smiling and I was crying and I was a fucking mess—but I was happy. I was soaring.
I was with Rune.
“Let me look at you,” he said, and his hands framed my face.
We were touching everywhere, and that was the only reason why I allowed myself to move back a little more.
My hands were on his face, too, and in his hair, and I pushed it back, looked at his eyes as my little bird flew over our heads to give us light.
My God, it hurt so beautifully to feel his breath blowing against my lips, the tips of our noses touching, our chests rising and falling in the same rhythm. Nothing else mattered except this. Nothing.
“You’re here,” he whispered, and he sounded surprised at his own words. “You’re here, Wildcat. You’re here.”
There were so many things I could think to say in that moment, but none of it really mattered. So, I crashed my lips to his and kissed him like he was my lifeline—because he was.
Rune didn’t stop me. He pressed me against the wall harder, and I felt all of him against all of me, and we were already one even though we still had our clothes on.
My nails dug into the skin of his shoulders and he moaned into my mouth, and every inch of me caught fire.
I was burning for him, my body moving against his uncontrollably as he kissed me with the same desperation, the same speed, like we might die in the next moment.
Rune pulled me away from the wall and spun us around, and the bird made of light followed.
Two steps and he leaned down and lowered me onto a hard surface—definitely a table—then let go of me to push something to the sides, get them out of his way—definitely chairs.
His chest was against mine, his tongue in my mouth, his hard cock pressing deliciously against my center.
Just like that, the whole world—the whole universe and every realm in it—disappeared.
His hands were around my waist, pulling up my shirt, slipping underneath until he gripped my skin, and I burned anew. His name was on my lips when his teeth sank into the soft flesh of my neck, and his hips thrust against me.
“By the stars, Wildcat.” His face loomed over mine, and I saw his eyes, so alive and so blue, the maps in them silver and perfectly clear. “I was fucking dying .”
“No, no, don’t die,” I said with barely any voice, shaking my head, as if I really thought he might collapse to the floor right now.
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere.” A deep thrust of his hips as he watched my lips part and a louder moan slip out of me. “And neither are you.”
It was a fucking promise.
His arm was wrapped around my waist when he straightened up and took me with. I sat on the edge of the table, legs apart, and he was between them like he belonged there, like he always had.
“Mine,” he breathed against my throat, the word a brand and a prayer all at once.
And I thought, yes, yes, a thousand times yes, but all I could do with my mouth was moan as he bit my skin.
His hands worked the buttons of my shirt while mine ran up and down his torso, his arms, and I couldn’t fucking get enough of the curves of him.
He claimed my mouth again as he pushed off my shirt, and this kiss wasn’t sweet—it was raw and desperate, perfectly capturing everything I’d felt every second I was without him.
The shirt ended up discarded somewhere two seconds later, and my bra followed.
His tongue was in my mouth and his hands cupped my breasts and the table creaked in warning as we pushed against each other, but the sound was swallowed by our moans.
Fuck, I was so wet I was going to come just rubbing against him like that, and I didn’t want to.
I wanted to feel him, all of him on all of me.
My shaking hands moved down his abs, trailed every line and every inch of his skin down to that delicious V that pointed toward everything that made me ignite.
I undid the button of his pants while he kissed me, his calloused hands rough and perfect against every inch of me he touched, and then his hard cock was in my hands, and I felt more complete already.
Rune broke the kiss as he moaned, forehead pressed to mine, eyes squeezed tightly shut like he was in pain while I touched him, gently at first, then rougher and faster.
He grabbed my face and he held me there, my mouth right in front of his as I jerked him off, moving my hips against the table, too, the friction enough to send me soaring if I only let it.
But Rune must have been close, too, because suddenly he gripped my wrists and stopped me, pulled my hands off his cock. I cried out in complaint—couldn’t he see that I needed to be touching him? To be feeling him in every part of me, between my legs, and between my lips, too?
God, I was dying for a taste of him already, for the feel of him sliding against my tongue.
But before I could argue, Rune ordered, “Stand up.”
He pulled me off the table, and then he was on his knees in front of me, his mouth right over my belly button, kissing every inch of my skin he could reach while his hands undid the zipper of my pants and slowly pulled them down my legs.
It was heaven. I looked down at him as I touched his hair, grabbed it in my fists, pushed it back so I could better see his face, his eyes half closed, his lips worshiping my skin.
He looked possessed as he kissed me and touched me, over my panties first, his hands on my ass, squeezing so hard I was surely going to bruise.
And when he touched me over my throbbing center, my head fell back and my body arched, thighs spreading instinctively to give him better access.
Fuck, the way he felt. It was unlike anything I ever thought possible. I was melting under his hands, under those lips that were kissing me over my panties still, like he couldn’t see how I was shaking with need. How I needed his tongue on me, hot and bare.
But Rune liked to take his time with me, murmuring praise under his breath as he went, teasing me with his tongue on my clit over the thin fabric of my panties until it was soaking wet from both my juices and his saliva.
His hand was between my legs, rubbing me at my entrance, driving me insane until my throat hurt from how hard I was screaming.
Could anybody even hear us?
Rune would tell me if there were risks, and since he hadn’t stopped worshipping me like I was his fucking goddess, I figured we were perfectly safe.
Finally, his fingers hooked on the sides of my panties, and he slowly pulled them down my legs.
Rune kneeling in front of me, kissing me and licking me and touching me while I fisted his hair and watched was really something.
But Rune standing in front of me, picking me up like I weighed nothing and sitting me on the table again as he settled between my legs, his hard cock smooth and pressed against my center, his swollen lips on mine?
Yeah, that was a whole other level, and if I died after this moment was over, I would go a happy woman.
My hand was around his cock. I brought him closer, touched myself with the tip of him, and the fire that burned underneath my skin turned brighter. Rune watched me playing and growled, his eyes bloodshot, his chest rising and falling as fast as mine—but not for long.
“Lay down, wildling,” he whispered, and my body was at his command because I did as I was told right away. I lay down on the rough surface of the table, eyes on him, his godlike physique, his perfect face. This man was really made for me, and I couldn’t care less if we were born worlds apart.
His eyes spilled blue fire as he looked at me, standing there between my legs, bringing a hand to my neck, squeezing only lightly before he traveled down to my chest, my breasts, rubbing my nipples between his fingers.
He watched every inch of me his hands touched like he would never see a more important thing, gave it all his attention, studied me like I was a piece of art instead of a person.
I let him, and I’d lie if I said I didn’t feel like I had the entire universe at my disposal. I had Rune, and he was as mad for me as I was for him no matter how he’d looked at me when Lyall had been there.
I truly had everything.
When his hand stopped on my lower stomach, he pressed me down and reached out his thumb to my clit. He studied my reaction to the way he rubbed me, slowly, with just the right amount of pressure, while keeping me in place with that big hand, with the same dedication. Same focus. Same fire.
“Rune, please,” I begged because this was torture. I needed him inside me so badly I could scream it at the top of my lungs for all the worlds to hear.
“Say it again,” he said, his voice thick and hoarse, as sexy as the image of him, and then he leaned over me, brought his lips in front of mine, and pressed his fingers to my entrance at the same time.
Fucking hell, I almost exploded, but I held myself back.
“Please, Rune, please,” I panted, and I’d say it as many times as he needed me to.
His tongue in my mouth cut off my moan, and the kiss was violent, a fucking storm to behold, a taste of what was to come. He was going to fuck me until my body turned numb, I just knew it, and I couldn’t wait to feel every delicious second.
Rune let go of my lips and went lower, took my nipple between his teeth and bit, and thrust his fingers inside me all at once. I touched the stars with these bare hands.
My hips shot up, desperate to take him deeper, but Rune didn’t let me. He trailed kisses down my stomach, then went on his knees in front of the table, in front of me. He put my thighs over his shoulders and licked me once, lightning fast.
“Fuck, so sweet…” he whispered, and his breath teased my wet folds like a dream.
“Rune!” I cried out in complaint because I needed him up here first.
But I should have guessed that he would know better even before he said, “Let me have my feast first, Wildcat,” and dove in.
His mouth closed over my clit and he did whatever it was that he did with his tongue, and my soul about left my body.
Each one of my muscles locked down, and for a moment there, while the ripples of pleasure went through me, I couldn’t even scream.
Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t blink, just stared at the white ceiling of whatever room we were in.
Then Rune got to work.
His fingers were inside me, curved up so that every little movement felt like a mini-orgasm building up toward the final one. His tongue teased my clit, slowly, way too slowly, and with his other hand he held my hips down, pressed on my pelvis with exactly the right pressure.
I was begging again, and I didn’t even realize it until he whispered, “That’s it, wilding. Beg for me like you were made for it.”
And I was. The way his name rolled off my tongue and my body moved in perfect rhythm to match his—I was made for him, too. Otherwise, how in the world would this feel this good?
I begged and I pleaded, I screamed and whispered his name, and finally Rune showed me mercy. Finally, he pressed his tongue on my clit and thrust another finger inside me, moved faster until I was shaking on his table, and he didn’t stop even when the orgasm hit.
He kept going and it made the feeling last a long, long time, until I had no more voice to scream with, and no more energy left in me to even move my hips.