Chapter 8 Lina #2
The initial discomfort faded fast, replaced by that same electric connection we’d felt before but magnified.
My body stretched around him, nerves firing like he was unlocking something primal under my skin.
Every slow inch he gave me lit me up, and when he bottomed out, the full weight of him grinding against the very edge of what I could take, I clutched at his shoulders, gasping.
“Holy fuck,” I breathed, dizzy from the stretch and the weight and the way it felt like we’d been made for this. For each other. His cock sat perfectly inside me, like my body had been waiting, untouched, just to take him.
“Mine,” he growled against my throat, and I didn’t argue because it felt true. Fundamental.
He held still for a breath, just a breath, his arms trembling from restraint, and then he started to move. Slow at first, testing the drag, watching my face, reading every twitch of pleasure and tension like a man obsessed. Every inch out, every inch back in. My breath caught on each slow stroke.
But it wasn’t enough. I needed all of him.
“Don’t hold back,” I demanded, nails biting into his skin. “I won’t break.”
“Lina,” he rasped, jaw clenched, voice unsteady. He was fighting whatever instincts were clawing at him to take more, go harder. But I could feel it just beneath the surface. He wanted to ruin me.
“I mean it.” I stared into his eyes, heart racing. “Stop treating me like I’m fragile. I want everything you’ve got.”
That did it. His next thrust was hit deep, knocking a cry from my throat at how good it felt.
Then another. Then again. The rhythm built fast, rougher, his body slamming into mine like he’d been waiting a lifetime for permission.
My fingers clutched at his shoulders, his back, any part of him I could grab while he pounded into me like he meant to leave me trembling and marked for days.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, picking up the pace. “That’s what I need. I want to hear every fucking sound you make while I wreck this perfect little body.”
I’d never been particularly vocal during my solo activities, but apparently that changed when someone else was involved.
I couldn’t stop the sounds spilling from my lips as his cock hit nerves I didn’t know existed, pushing me apart and deeper and further.
Every thrust pulled another noise out of me, a moan, a gasp, a plea.
“Matthias,” I moaned, lost in it, and he stilled mid-thrust, eyes locked on mine.
“No,” he said roughly, catching my face in his hands. “Not that name.”
I blinked up at him, dazed. “What?”
His eyes were wild, desperate. “Call me... call me mate.”
“Mate?” I asked. The word was strange on his lips, like it meant something different. Was this some kind of weird Australian thing? A kink I hadn’t heard of? Some dominance thing?
“Please.” The crack in his voice undid me. Not just hunger now but vulnerability. It shattered whatever resistance I had left.
“…Okay.” I whispered it first. Then again, louder. “Mate.”
The change in him was immediate. His entire body shuddered. He groaned as though I’d touched him, his hips driving forward with new intensity, hard enough to knock the breath out of me. “Again.”
“Mate,” I gasped, and he fucking roared, hips snapping forward with a punishing pace that made me see stars. Every thrust dragged a cry out of me. “Fuck, mate, please-”
“Perfect,” he growled, setting a rhythm that had me climbing fast toward another peak. “My perfect mate. Been waiting for you. Searching for you. Dreaming of you.”
I should’ve questioned it. Should’ve asked what the fuck that meant. But I was too far gone. Every movement shoved me closer to the edge. Every breath hitched, every nerve lit up as he took me exactly the way I’d begged for.
“Look at me,” he demanded, and I forced my eyes open, barely holding onto the moment. “I want to see your face when you come on my cock. I want to feel you fall apart around me.”
“So close,” I gasped, hips jerking under his, thighs shaking. “I’m so-”
“That’s it, baby. Come for me. Come for your mate.”
The second the word left his mouth again, my body exploded. I came hard, muscles clenching around him, cries spilling from my throat as stars burst behind my eyes. It wasn’t just release, it was annihilation. Like my body had been rewritten just to take him. Just to be his.
He didn’t last long after that. He cursed against my skin, slammed in deep, and groaned my name like a prayer while he emptied himself inside me, cock pulsing, hips jerking through it. His whole body tensed over mine as he buried himself to the hilt and stayed there.
We collapsed together, breathing hard, still intertwined. He didn’t try to pull out, didn’t even shift. Just wrapped himself around me like he had no intention of letting go. Neither of us seemed capable of separating.
“Holy shit,” I managed eventually, when my brain came back online. “So that’s what all the fuss is about.”
He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest where my head rested. “Just wait until I’m not half-dead from blood loss. I’ll show you what else all the fuss is about.”
I lifted my head, ready to shoot something sarcastic back at him, but stopped. His wounds, they looked different. Somehow better. I touched the skin near one of the long, jagged slashes, and blinked. It wasn’t bleeding anymore. It wasn’t even raw. It looked like it had been healing for days.
“Your injuries...” I started, tracing near one with a finger. “That’s not normal.”
He grinned, that cocky, beautiful grin that made me forget how to think. “Must be your incredible nursing skills. Or maybe,” he added, flipping us so I was on top of him, “maybe I just have a very strong reason to get better fast. I have plans for you, Lina Winters.”
“Plans?” I asked, but he was already kissing me again, effectively derailing that line of questioning.
Despite the oddity of his rapid healing, I found myself melting back into his warmth, moaning when he rolled his hips up again.
Tomorrow I could question impossible healing rates and men who fought beasts and broke into apartments.
Tonight, I just wanted to stay in this bubble where the world made a different kind of sense.
“I should probably be more concerned about the breaking and entering,” I mumbled against him.
“Probably,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to my hair. “Good thing you have terrible judgment.”
“The worst,” I confirmed.