Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Kesha
Korrad’s mouth crashed into mine like a storm breaking, all heat and hunger and no hesitation, and my heart sang.
The feel of his mouth on mine was—was…a new set of red pens, the feel of a hockey stick in my hands, the sound of laughter, the taste of peach pie…everything. Better than everything.
This was Korrad!
His hands were everywhere—rough palms sliding up my ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts beneath the silk, his claws pricking just enough to make me gasp into his kiss.
The contrast of his calloused skin and the smooth fabric sent a shiver down my spine, my nipples tightening painfully.
I arched into him, my fingers digging into the thick muscle of his shoulders, my nails scraping his bare skin.
He growled against my lips, the vibration humming through my chest, and his hands didn’t stop moving. One slid up to cup my breast, his thumb circling my nipple, the other gripping my hip as if he was afraid I’d leave him.
I whimpered, my body already slick with need, my pussy throbbing in time with the pulse of his touch.
Then his mouth left mine, trailing hot, wet kisses down my throat, his beard scraping deliciously against my skin.
I tilted my head back, my breath coming in sharp little gasps as he nipped at my collarbone, his tusks brushing my jaw.
His hands were still moving, one sliding up to tangle in my bonnet, the other tugging at the hem of my silk top.
“Off,” he growled, his voice rough and desperate.
I didn’t argue. I let him strip the top over my head, the cool air hitting my bare skin, my nipples pebbling even harder. His breath hitched, his hands stilling on my waist as he stared.
“Magnificent,” he murmured, his thumbs and forefingers closing around my nipples.
I gasped, my back arching at the sharp, electric jolt of pleasure that shot straight to my core. I’d always thought my nipples were too big, too thick, but the way he was looking at them—like they were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen—made my throat tighten.
He tugged, just enough to make me whimper, the sensation pulling deep inside me, my pussy clenching with empty, aching need.
“Korrad—” My voice broke, my hands reaching for him, but he was already bending down, his mouth closing over one nipple, his tongue swirling before he sucked hard.
“Fuck,” I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
His other hand kneaded my breast, his thumb rolling my other nipple, and I was drowning in sensation, my hips rocking helplessly against nothing.
His beard tickled my skin; the wet heat of his mouth sent waves of pleasure crashing through me.
His hands smoothed down my hips, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my silk shorts, tugging them down. I stepped out of them, my skin prickling with anticipation, and then his hand was between my legs, his fingers sliding through my wetness.
“So fucking wet for me,” he groaned against my breast, his fingers parting my folds, circling my clit.
I cried out, my knees nearly buckling as pleasure spiked through me.
His touch was rough, possessive, his fingers slick with my arousal as he stroked me, his thumb pressing down on my clit just right.
“Korrad, please—” I was begging, my voice raw, my body trembling with need.
He didn’t make me wait. He lifted me as if I weighed nothing, laying me down on the bed, his huge body following me down. I reached for him, but he caught my wrists, pinning them to the mattress beside my head.
“You remember what I said about making you come?” His voice was a dark promise, his eyes burning into mine. “I’ve been waiting too fucking long for this—this is about you.”
Before I could respond, he was kneeling between my legs, his broad shoulders pushing my thighs apart. The first swipe of his tongue was broad and flat, the ridges dragging through my folds, and I cried out, my back arching off the bed.
“Lord—!” My voice broke as his tongue swirled around my clit, the ridges of it sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.
His fingers dug into my thighs, holding me open, his mouth sealing over me like he was starving.
He licked and sucked, his tongue flicking against my clit before diving lower, stroking inside me.
“Kor—oh god—” My hips jerked, my body tightening, my orgasm already building, fast and relentless. His fingers pressed into my inner thighs, his thumbs spreading me wider, his tongue working me over as if he wanted to memorize every inch of me.
“You taste like heaven,” he growled against my pussy, the vibration making me whimper as his tusks scraped my sensitive skin on my inner thigh. “So sweet, so perfect—”
His tongue circled my clit again, and I came with a broken cry, my body shuddering, my fingers twisting in the sheets. He didn’t stop. He kept licking, his tongue dragging through my folds, his fingers sliding inside me, curling just right to hit that spot that made my vision white out.
“Too much—” I gasped, my body oversensitive, my hips trying to twist away, but he held me still, his mouth never leaving me.
“No such thing,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. “You’re going to come again, sweetheart. You’re going to come on my face like a good girl.”
His fingers crooked inside me, his thumb pressing down on my clit, and I moaned, my body betraying me, the pleasure building again, faster this time, sharper.
His tongue was relentless—good god, the ridges!
—his fingers stroking that spot inside me that made my toes curl, my breath coming in ragged little gasps.
“Korrad—” His name was a prayer on my lips, my body coiling tight, my orgasm crashing over me again, harder this time, my back bowing off the bed as I slammed my palm against my mouth to hold in my scream.
He groaned against me, his tongue lapping at my pussy as I trembled, my body wrung out, my skin slick with sweat.
A second orgasm? Holy shit, when did that happen?
He didn’t stop until I was boneless, my breath slow and shaky, my body humming with aftershocks.
His head lifted, and I blinked up at him, my body still trembling from the aftershocks of my second orgasm.
His lips were wet with me, his beard glistening, and his dark eyes burned into mine—except there was something different about them.
A tiny, eerie glow, like green embers in the depths of his pupils, flickering and bright.
I frowned. What the hell…?
But then he was moving, crawling up the bed toward me, his massive body caging me in, his muscles rippling with every shift.
When had he lost his pants? That huge cock, the one I’d caressed in the kitchen, made my mouth water, made my pussy clench—and I would have thought I was all orgasm’d out. But I wanted more.
I wanted him.
The green in his eyes flared as he stalked closer, and I forgot to care about anything but the way he looked at me—like I was the only thing in the world worth wanting.
“You taste even better than I imagined,” he growled, his voice rough, his breath hot against my skin. “I could lick you all night, Kesha. I want you to come on my face again and again.”
My pulse spiked, my body already responding to the hunger in his voice, my pussy clenching with fresh arousal. But that wasn’t why I was here—he’d promised me his cock!
“I—I mean, it’s great, but—”
He didn’t let me finish. His mouth found my collarbone, his tongue dragging along the sensitive skin, his tusks brushing my shoulder. His hands slid up my thighs, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of my inner thighs, spreading me wider.
“What, sweetheart?” he murmured, his lips trailing up my neck, his beard scraping deliciously against my skin.
I swallowed, my thoughts scattering under the onslaught of sensation. No one had ever been this obsessed with my pleasure before. It was intoxicating. It was terrifying.
“I want your cock,” I blurted out, remembering what he’d said earlier—about how I’d come the second he was inside me.
The green in his eyes flared brighter before his pupils dilated enough to hide it. “Done, wife.” His voice was a dark promise, his hands stilling on my hips. “How do you want it?”
I blinked, heat flooding my cheeks. No one had ever asked me that before. No one had ever cared how I wanted it.
“I mean…” My throat went dry. “However you want it?”
His expression darkened, his grip tightening just enough to make me gasp. “No, love. This is about your pleasure.” His thumbs circled my hipbone, his claws pricking lightly. “What position brings you pleasure?”
I couldn’t say it. The words stuck in my throat, too embarrassing, too vulnerable. But when he rolled off me, giving me space, I understood. He wasn’t just asking—he was giving me control.
I pushed up onto my hands and knees, my heart pounding.
The cotton of the sheets was cool against my skin, the air brushing over my exposed pussy, my dripping arousal. I spread my knees wider, arching my back, letting my heavy breasts hang low, offering myself to him.
Behind me, Korrad made a sound—half groan, half growl. His hands skimmed over my ass, his palms rough and hot, his fingers digging into my flesh as he pulled me back against him. His cock—thick, ridged, huge—pressed against my ass, the heat of it searing my skin.
I didn’t care. All I could think about was the way his hands gripped my hips, the way his thumbs traced the curve of my spine, the way his breath hitched when I pressed back against him, desperate.
“Korrad,” I whimpered. “I want your cock.”
His chuckle was dark, possessive. “What was it that Brak said? Happy wife, happy life?”
His brother had said happy Mate, happy fate, because he and Joss were Mated. Korrad and I weren’t Mated, couldn’t be Mated; this was just fucking. Two people who happened to be married and who’d wanted each other for weeks. That’s all this was.
Still, I swallowed, my fingers curling into the sheets. “Something like that.”