Chapter 28 Ditch
Ditch
“I’m spent. Never again!” she gasped, voice worn thin from screaming. The Lykae had wrung climax after climax from her until she lost count.
When she finally slipped free of his grasp, her legs barely obeyed.
She hadn’t meant to lose control like some nymph in heat. Usually, she paced herself better. But under this wolf’s skillful kiss, her mind had gone white with one reckless mantra: Surrender. Just for tonight.
“Get back here, witch. I hunger still.” His tone was a rasping growl. “The interlude ends when I do. You spoke these words.”
“I can’t come anymore,” she protested, breathless. “You’ve broken me.”
His bulging muscles sheened with sweat in the moonlight. His cock bobbed, painting swaths of precum over his torso.
“Great Hecate,” she muttered, “I could get pregnant just looking at that.”
He swept his burning gaze from her horns to her toes. Sounding delirious, he said, “Back your arse to the bars, and lift that tail o’ yours. I’ll breed you so well you’ll touch the moon itself.”
She glared. “I’m insulted that you haven’t spontaneously come. I’m irresistible in the worst of circumstances. And I’m your mate. You should be helpless in the face of my glory!”
“You assume I’m no’? Gods, witch, can you no’ tell how kissing you affects me? And I did lose my seed spontaneously when I opened your scented letter.”
“Then why not now?”
“Willpower.” He looked dangerous. “I’ll have more from you than one stolen night. You swore to stay with me till the interlude ended. Now it will continue indefinitely.”
“So that’s your plan. You sound so rational. Have I not tempted you beyond reason?”
“Your taste alone makes me fear for my sanity! But my need for you to come back to my castle with me—where I can keep you safe—overwhelms every other desire.”
“You think you can pleasure me again and again without coming?”
“Aye. And then at moonset, you’ll accompany me to Craigdúr. To my bed.”
“For how long?”
“Till you canna imagine life without my cock inside you.”
“Tricksy wolf.” Admiration laced her tone, despite her frustration with him. He should be a lock for her demonic sexuality, and he’d been touched by fate to prefer her above all others!
“No’ tricksy. Determined.”
“How determined?” she challenged. “Do you think you can resist my mouth?”
His throat worked on a thick swallow, and his brows drew together. “Must.”
“Your turn then,” she purred. “Let’s test that Lykae willpower.” She sank to her knees at the edge of the cage. The instant her face hovered before his meaty shaft, she realized she wasn’t nearly as spent as she’d claimed.
His glistening tip lit her up like a wick meeting a cauldron flame. The head was so engorged the slit had widened.
“You’re not the only one with ungodsly hungers, wolf king. I’ll consume you.” She licked her lips, and his gaze snapped to her pointed demon tongue.
A growl escaped him, primal and ready.
As if bespelled, he stepped closer, threading that massive length between the bars toward her mouth.
“It wants inside me,” she said almost with awe. “Any way it can.”
He nodded gravely.
She cupped his heavy balls, heat pulsing through her palm. They were big and damp with sweat. She tickled behind them with her black claws, murmuring, “So trusting. Though we both know I could geld you with a flick of my wrist.”
He clenched his jaw at that.
“These ache.” She drew in and traced her tongue along his sack.
His brawny chest hitched. “They do ache,” he ground out, “with no relief in sight. Play with my body all you like—short of a gelding—but I’ll still resist you.”
“What a matchup. My tongue versus your will.” Maybe this was what she’d been missing with her other lovers. Thrilling tension.
As she slowly masturbated his length, she sucked one ball between her lips and moaned around it so he could feel the vibrations.
He groaned, “There’s my good lass.”
After repeating her kiss on the other one, she released him with a pop. Then she simply gazed up at him through her lashes, mouth parted in invitation. Fill me.
He couldn’t deny her. He guided his shaft to her, pressing the damp head between her lips.
She suckled him, coaxing more saltiness from the font, her tongue gone slick with it.
His shaking hands closed over her head. Hips tilted, jaw slackened, expression lost. Yet somehow he remembered her pleasure. He pinched her achy horns like they were sensitive nipples, which they kind of were for her.
As she fondled his testicles, she sealed her lips around the crown and drew him in inch by inch.
“Gods almighty!” He quaked, his muscular legs juddering. “Everything I can do no’ to thrust!” His balls tightened, readying to spend, and her tongue detected the rising knot of semen in his shaft.
Ditch’s mouth really was undefeatable.
He might be determined, but he was a male through and through. And she controlled males. Always had—
He drew back from the suction of her kiss. “Canna. I want you back with me. Need that. You’ll be safe with me.”
What in the seven hells? She frowned at that knot of semen trapped by his own stubbornness, his shaft visibly throbbing under the pressure of his load. He was resisting her? Impossible!
Her tail flicked as an idea sparked. “Very well. Deny yourself. But now you’ve whetted my appetite again. Let me kiss your cock while I finish myself.”
He hesitated. But then her tail curled down between her thighs to diddle her slick sex, which clearly interested him very much. He absently gave his cock back to her mouth like a dazed offering.
His taste and responses had primed Ditch, her orgasm imminent. But she would focus on his. Her lubricated tail abandoned her pussy to curve around and snake up behind him. He was too lost to her suckling to notice.
“Close, witch.” He heaved breaths. “I crave flooding your pointed tongue with seed.”
She darted that tongue and sucked harder.
“But I canna!” He started to pull away.
Her claws bit into the damp muscles of his back, and her tail struck—sliding between his muscular cheeks, prodding, pressing—and then in.
Sunk home.
He roared. His cock jerked and his first jet of seed hit her throat, hot and thick. She swallowed greedily as his body convulsed, shaking the bars. The mighty king’s roar continued, gaining intensity as it seemed to echo over the entire Skein.
She milked him with her fist and her hollowed cheeks until his legs nearly gave.
Better.
Once she’d emptied spurt after spurt of his delicious Lykae semen, she gave him a last lick and withdrew her tail to the music of his stunned groan.
Wary and seeming psychically injured, he said between ragged breaths, “You just…you…”
“I know.” She rose smoothly, triumphant. “You did say I could play with your body all I wanted. Sometimes I play rough.”
He looked wrecked—shocked, gorgeous, undone. His mouth worked as he cast about for speech. “Your tail.”
“Gave you a tentacular orgasm? Yes. Thank me with a gift of Craigdúr cattle.” She donned his coat with a defiant look. Mine. She refused to relinquish her masturbatory aid.
He clenched the bars, looking like he’d break through them to seize her. “Doona go. It’s no’ safe for you in the Witchwood!”
“We both came, our standoff at an end. Of course I’ll go.” She laughed. “You see, tonight has changed nothing in me, which means you’re all alone in hell.”
His eyes glowed wolf blue with disappointment in her, this hungry king who’d begun to hope. Which didn’t affect her. At all.
Over her shoulder, she called, “A herd, Thane. I’ll expect at least a herd. You know I’m worth it.”
Once she was out of sight, his gut-wrenching howl shook the night, raw with longing.