Aliana
Sorin seemed to be having a private moment.
While his brain recalibrated, I slipped my hand beneath his collar.
Every day I’d gazed at that thick, juicy, biteable neck—it made me hungry to sink my teeth into the muscle and tendon.
I wanted to taste his blood on my tongue when I marked him.
Our mating ceremony had only been the first step of being bound.
His chest heaved, and the light returned to his once-blank eyes.
“Feed me, Alpha King. I’m ever so hungry tonight,” I whispered as he blinked.
His eyes flicked up, and I felt his hand settle on my waist.
“Oh, I am going to feed every part of you tonight—until you beg for mercy,” he growled.
The monk was gone. The manwhore was back. A phrase that would never have crossed my mind before tonight. But as he began uncovering the dishes, I tightened my hold around his neck.
The Moon Goddess had placed our bond above all others.
Sorin was mine.
I opened my mouth as the feeding began. My eyes didn’t inspect the food between his fingers—not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t look away from the tenderness in his.
Salt, meat, herbs.
I licked every digit clean.
“My Queen,” he murmured, his eyes dropping to my lips.
He still didn’t remove his fingers.
I sucked harder.
We have them now, Zira purred. We claim them tonight.
If I can make it through dinner, I replied, feeling a sudden gush of slick soak through the delicate fabric of my underwear.
He suddenly sniffed, hard. Twice.
Malakh’s growl was deep and low.
He pulled his fingers from my mouth and gripped my waist, rearranging my position until I straddled him. Hands on his shoulders, his thick length nestled beneath me. His growl still rattled between us, and Zira didn’t answer it.
I rolled my hips slowly, pressing down against his hardening cock. There was no room left for fear. Need had taken over.
The words left my mouth. Terrible words. Without thought or care.
“Food can wait,” I growled, and slammed my lips over his.
He was waiting. Ready to receive.
He answered my call, raising his hips to meet me and growling into my mouth as his tongue thrust against mine.
I leaned into him, pressing my body down, feeling his growl vibrate through my chest. His thick length rubbed against my aching pussy.
The lightest touch made me gasp into his ravaging mouth.
Zira finally answered. Her growl began as a low rumble, but somewhere in the void, it turned vicious.
We were suddenly lifted into the air, and Sorin strode across the room with the fixation of a beast who had only one purpose. His arm curled around my back as he climbed onto the bed with me wrapped around him. He laid me down, then moved back.
His fingers worked deftly at his shirt, baring his broad chest—but my eyes dipped lower. To the silver belt buckle.
Lower.
The outline of what lay beneath.
Swollen.
The material stretched to its limit.
My eyes closed, and I moaned. With my eyes shut, his scent filled me completely. It wasn’t his usual scent—this was magnified. A concentrated dose of leather, cedarwood, and smoke. I wanted to taste all of it.
I heard the buckle, and my eyes snapped open.
“My mate,” he said, breath ragged.
All I could see was taut muscle and a perfect navel.
The zipper came down. The trousers followed. He rose above me and removed the rest.
There it was. Tall and proud, oozing from the tip to coat his piercing.
A single barbell cut through the head, a ball on either side. Ember had spilled the gossip once—custom-made, due to his girth. He carried it around like a damn weapon.
I stared at him, straight into his eyes.
I wasn’t afraid. I was ready.
He dropped to his knees, moving over me. Fingers tugged at my straps, and his lips trailed a path from my neck to my chest.
Soft. Slow.
Until his lips reached my breast.
His hot mouth closed over my nipple, and he sucked—hard.
Sensations I’d never felt rippled through my core, dipping lower until the ache throbbed and radiated outward. As if he knew exactly what I needed, his fingers slipped beneath the lace until he found the slick heat between my thighs.
I gripped his shoulders, tense, hard muscle beneath my fingers that never wavered. His fingers moved in small circles, massaging my entrance—but never entering.
“Yes,” I gasped, my hips rising to meet his touch.
His tongue swirled around my nipple before he sucked again—softer this time. A finger teased my entrance, circling as if testing me.
“Alpha,” I whispered, inhaling him in deep before releasing a ragged breath.
The lace dug into my flesh, and then I heard fabric tearing. It floated in the air before vanishing from sight. He shifted downward, past my belly, and I glanced at his head.
My lopsided bush was gone.
I’d gone for shaving it all off rather than the designer-trimmed version I’d originally had in mind.
“Hmm,” he hummed, then sniffed me.
His tongue slipped out, licking his lips, before he pushed his hands beneath me and lifted me up like a snack.
My fingers clung to strands of his hair as his tongue pushed inside, tasting, stretching, licking. I pressed my thighs open, wanting all of him, and he moaned into me until I felt his entire mouth—lips, tongue, teeth. He went berserk, snarling as he ruined me.
Dear Moon Goddess. May this ruination find me in every life cycle.