Chapter 21 #2
He parts my knees wide and settles himself between my thighs, allowing his hardness to press directly against my aching core.
Gripping the base of his cock, he glides himself through my wetness a few times, coating the tip of his shaft in my essence.
Whenever he grazes over my clit, my center lifts upward without conscious thought, and a moan breaks from my throat.
Then he positions himself directly at my core and grasps my hips. I hold my breath as I wait for that first thrust, praying it won’t hurt, yet wanting it despite the possibility of pain.
“Gideon,” I whisper, reaching for him with one hand. I cup the side of his face, tracing his high cheekbone.
His eyes flutter shut, and he leans into my touch with a low growl. The tip of his shaft remains pressed to my core, but not quite inside. “Isabel,” he whispers in return. “My little moth. My mate.”
Opening his eyes, he tightens his hold on my hips.
Then he starts pushing inside me, stretching me, filling me. Just as he pauses, seeming to meet some resistance, I experience a twinge of pain. I know what it means, and I know it can’t be helped. This is my first time, and there might be some discomfort. But I still don’t want him to stop.
To my surprise, he releases one of my hips and presses his palm directly above my pussy, so very close to where our bodies are joined. I glance down just as a blue light emanates from his hand, and that twinge of pain inside me promptly vanishes.
Healing light. I gasp when his mind brushes against mine and I realize what he’s doing. He’s using his winter magic, his powers of healing, to help take away my pain. And it’s working.
He places a gentle kiss to my forehead, then resumes moving, and after two more hard thrusts, he’s fully buried inside me.
I glance down, and tears prick my eyes to think he could be so thoughtful.
So caring. I was prepared to accept the pain, and perhaps there was even a part of me that was anticipating it in a way…
but now that I’m only feeling pleasure, that delicious achiness and pulsating warmth, I suppose I can’t complain.
Gratitude swells within me. I run a hand up and down his chest as I hold his gaze.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
He leans down and nuzzles his nose against mine, a sweet, wordless gesture that makes my heart contract.
Eventually, he removes his hand from between us. The blue glow hovers over my lower stomach for a few seconds before fading.
The pain doesn’t return, though he’s definitely all the way inside me. I feel every inch of his girth.
I’m going to resume claiming you now, little moth, he sends down the bond. If you feel any further pain, you must tell me at once. Do you promise?
“I promise,” I whisper.
He tightens his grip on my hips, slowly withdraws, then presses forward again with a force that steals my breath. I cry out at the surge of pleasure, the quickening in my core, and I feel a gush of moisture leak from my center to coat my inner thighs.
The largest window in the cabin is behind him, and the curtains are thrown wide open, revealing the wintry landscape beyond, where snow continues to drift from the sky.
As he settles into a steady rhythm, claiming me with hard, deep thrusts, I watch the graceful movements of his body, the swirling white snow framing him like something out of a dream.
And for a moment, I feel like I might be dreaming. Because surely this can’t be real. Surely I’m not truly being claimed by the Lord of Frostfall, the powerful highborn fae male I once feared.
But I feel so safe as he claims me.
Safe and treasured.
His eyes keep rolling back in his head, and his fae growls reverberate through the cabin, merging with the sound of flesh slapping flesh and the steady crackling of the fire.
He pauses and stares down at me, and a shiver rushes through me at the wicked gleam that abruptly enters his eyes.
He pulls out of my center, but only for a moment, only so he can guide my legs over his shoulders, a position that forces me to spread wider.
A position that allows him to sink even deeper when he finally resumes claiming me.
Oh, gods.
A keening moan escapes my throat.
“That’s it, little moth. Moan for me.”
His words send a fresh flush over my face and down my neck, spilling across my bosom. And the instant the thought crosses my mind, he takes advantage of it, leaning down to blow his winter-cold breath over my hardened peaks. I gasp.
Then he takes one nipple into his mouth, laving it with his warm tongue. Again and again, he repeats the motion, switching between my breasts, driving me wild with his relentless, lustful ministrations.
All the while, he continues thrusting into me, pounding me so hard that his scrotum smacks audibly against the curve of my ass.
At last, he pulls away from my bosom, his teeth dragging across my nipple just before he lets go. His cock swells larger inside me, and a feral growl vibrates from his chest, an animalistic noise that makes me quiver with need.
He reaches between us again, not to apply more healing light, but to circle a thumb over my most sensitive spot, my pulsing clit.
I whimper and moan, but when I try to meet his thrusts, the hand still gripping my hip tightens, holding me firmly in place and keeping me exactly where he wants me, his strength effortlessly overpowering mine.
A shiver runs through me at this display of dominance. He began claiming me with gentleness, even using his winter magic to ease my pain, but now he is taking what he wants.
He’s keeping me pinned beneath him as he drives into my center, growling low in his throat while his thumb circles my clit with the perfect amount of pressure.
Just as the first wave of my release crashes over me, he thrusts faster, deeper, and I feel the first spurt of his seed entering my pussy.
Oh, my gods. I cry out and clutch the furs as he rides me, taking what he wants, claiming me, filling me with his essence.
It’s rough and nearly violent, but it’s what I need. It’s what we both need.
The promise of forever.
The intensity of our bond.
Fated mates.
My climax rushes through me, pulsating hot and quick, stealing every coherent thought. Gideon’s thrusts become uneven and he gasps between growls. He clutches me close, holding my heated body against his chilled one, anchoring me to him as the blissful quakes finally begin to fade.
He gives one final thrust, then stills inside me. Leaning down, he brushes my hair from my face, holding my gaze with an intense look. I sense his immense satisfaction. Warmth hums through our bond, and it feels as though the tether that connects our hearts is suddenly stronger. Unbreakable.
He brushes his nose against mine, his cold breath caressing my face, providing much-needed coolness to my sweat-dampened brow.
Slowly, he withdraws from my center, and I flush as his seed spills out to coat my inner thighs. Before I can move, he lifts me in his arms, cradling me in his lap. He nuzzles his nose against mine, a gesture he’s done a few times, one that never fails to make me swoon.
“Now we are fully bonded, little moth,” he murmurs. “Our hearts and souls, forever entwined.”