Chapter 9 #2
I cried out, my hips bucking against his mouth.
He licked along my cleft, then his fingers slid into me.
They weren’t nearly as big as his cock had been last night, but when they curled forward and hit that rough patch behind my clit?
I swear I saw stars. The ridges on his tongue added a texture that was indescribable, each flick sending me closer to the edge.
My moans filled the room, mingling with his low growls. I was so close, so incredibly close. He curled his fingers inside me, stroking me, and then his tongue caressed my clitoris one last time, and I shattered.
I came hard, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over me. Sylvik held me through it, his mouth and fingers drawing out every last ounce of my orgasm until I was a panting, trembling mess.
When I finally came down from my high, I looked into his glowing gaze and saw pure male satisfaction. And something else—something that looked a lot like love.
I was too dazed, too sated, to do anything other than reach for him. My pussy clenched as his fingers withdrew, already hungry for more. I licked my lips as I held my arms open, needing to bring him the same pleasure he’d brought me.
“Please, Sylvik,” I whispered, trying what I hoped was a come-hither smile. “I need you to fill me up.”
His expression was serious, intent, as he crawled up my body and settled between my legs. “You’re sure, dkaar?”
I wrapped my legs around his hips, lifting myself so my wet, throbbing core could rub along his ridged length. I remembered what happened last night, and I wanted that. “What does dkaar mean, Sylvik?”
His hands settled on my hips, holding me in place. “Beloved,” he finally admitted, his tone as neutral as his expression. “Dkaar means beloved.”
Ah.
I nodded once, my fingers tightening on his forearms. “Then come to me, dkaar.”
In a blink, his expression shifted to pure, fierce joy…and he slammed his cock into me.
The intrusion was sudden, swift, and before I had time to adjust to his thickness, my second climax hit me. I arched my back.
“Sylvik!” I screamed as I gyrated. He held himself absolutely still, allowing me to milk my pleasure from him. “Oh my God, I love your cock!”
His chuckle was low and wicked, making me want even more. But for now, I could barely breathe from the way all my muscles had tightened—around him, around us. My mouth had gone dry, and my pussy had gone very, very wet.
What was it I’d said last night? Good biology.
And then he began to move.
Before my orgasm had even faded, Sylvik began to move.
Each ridge of his cock teased me as he slid in and out, just as it had last night.
It was like every nerve ending in my body was being stimulated at once, every fiber of my being focused on that delicious sensation.
But last night, we’d been interrupted before we could go further, and tonight I wasn’t going to let him go.
I was afraid I’d never let him go.
Sylvik shifted onto his knees, pulling my hips up and changing the angle. The new position allowed him to go even deeper, and I gasped as he hit that spot inside me that made my toes curl. “God, Sylvik, that feels incredible,” I managed to pant.
From this position, his hands were able to roam over my body, rough and possessive, claiming every inch of me as his own.
His thrusts were steady, relentless, each one sending another wave of pleasure crashing over me. “You take my cock so well, dkaar,” he growled, one palm closed around my breast while the other held my hip tightly enough to dimple the skin with his claws. “You were made for this. Made for me.”
Was I? All I knew was in that moment, I agreed.
I remembered what my sister and cousin had said at dinner, about a knowing…and knew it was the truth. Sylvik was mine…and I was his.
I could barely breathe, my body was so tight with pleasure.
Each ridge of his cock dragged against my inner walls, sparking another jolt of sensation.
I could feel my orgasm building, my body coiling tighter and tighter.
“I'm close,” I gasped, my fingers digging into his legs, as if I could hold myself to him.
He growled, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. “Come for me, Brooke,” he commanded, his voice a low rumble. “Let me feel you come all over my cock like a good Mate does.”
Mate?
Oh God, Mate.
His words sent me over the edge. I screamed wordlessly as I came, my body convulsing around him. Pleasure exploded through me, so intense it was almost painful. He kept thrusting, drawing out my orgasm until I was a panting, trembling mess.
And the whole time I held onto him, refusing to leave him, refusing to give him up.
I knew then that my dream had changed. The thought of returning to L.A., returning to Ethan, was ridiculous.
I was right where I belonged.
As my heart slowed, I forced myself to breathe evenly, and realized that his thrusts had slowed.
Sylvik was watching me with that intense, focused glowing gaze, eyeing me hungrily as if he’d never be satisfied.
And I realized—he hadn’t been satisfied.
I’d come three times—twice last night as well—and he’d never found pleasure once.
“Sylvik?” I murmured as I forced my fingers to unclench, to stroke his knees and thighs. “Do you…”
“Fucking magnificent, love.” He shifted, his cock sliding deeper, making me gasp. “Gods below, Brooke, that was…”
When he shook his head, I managed a smile. “I want you to come.”
“Love, I’m about to lose control.”
My smile grew with satisfaction. “That’s a compliment, Sylvik.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Even his voice sounded strained. “If I claim you…”
Claim me? Was that what was happening? All I knew was that, here and now, I knew beyond a doubt that I wanted this. I wanted him, and I wanted to belong to him. So I squeezed him.
With my inner muscles.
I saw the moment his eyes widened, so I did it again.
With a muttered curse, he reached between us and yanked his cock from my pussy, leaving me bereft. But before I could object, Sylvik pressed his length along my wet cleft, sliding over my clit, stroking himself… Once, twice, his ridges making my core flutter into awareness again.
And then, with a roar, Sylvik came.
He came hard, spilling wave after shuddering wave of pale green cum across my curls, my stomach, all the way to my tits—the second spurt even hit my throat! A sharp, spicy scent filled the air as his intense green gaze locked on me.
I grinned as I gyrated beneath him, sliding my wet core along the underside of his cock, trying to drag out his orgasm.
But finally, he finished, slumping forward, bracing one hand against the mattress as my legs slowly unclenched from around his hips. His eyes had closed, his breathing ragged as he fisted his cock against me.
Curiously, I dragged one finger through the thick stickiness on my chest, and raised it to my lips. My tongue darted out—
“Cinnamon?” I blurted. His eyes flashed open, pinning me. But I was trying to contain my laughter. “Your cum tastes like cinnamon? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Sylvik slowly shook himself, as if trying to remember what was going on. “Tell you what?”
By now, I was laughing outright. “Tell me that, thanks to my pushiness, your Christmas tree now smells like orc cum!”
Slowly, his lips curled, his tusks sliding free as he began to laugh as well. He fell to the side, gathering me close, until we were both covered in his cum, as we laughed.
“Because, dkaar, I’d willingly live in a house that smells like my cum if it makes you happy,” he managed, brushing a kiss over my temple. “I love you, Brooke.”