Chapter Eighteen
brIGID
Iwasn't meant to lose my mind this way. It had never happened before. Oh, a rut was fun, especially at the beginning, but exhausting too, and a bit of a chore by the end.
It had never been this…this demanding. This essential.
I couldn't stop kissing Torion. I was tired and my body was bruised, but the little strength I had only went to holding him closer, whispering pleas for more. I could barely keep my eyes open, but I held his face to mine, took his breaths for my own.
"Easy, now," he murmured as I whimpered, my legs too weak to hold his hips.
He was massive now, almost twice as wide as before, too tall to stretch out against. His dragon was full in him.
It was a wonder he managed to speak words at all.
I sobbed as he pulled out of me, trying to scramble with useless limbs to draw him back.
"Your knot, I want—"
"I want it too, little witch," Torion rasped. Our voices were ragged.
I whined as he bundled me and then turned me to stretch out on the bed, tucking a few pillows beneath my hips.
"You'll have my knot, my seed. You'll have all of me, and more than you can stand."
I sighed, realizing his goal, and gave up the struggle, falling limp into the cushion of the bed, moaning my approval as he filled me once more. Every time he entered, I was shocked breathless by the fullness, by the completion, pinned in place and so perfectly satisfied to be trapped there.
Torion groaned, rolling into me, my legs caged between his, making me tighter, him harder and deeper and bigger—
"T-Torion!"
"That's it, rest now, just like this. I'll take care of you, I'll take care of us both. I'll fill you up, over and over like this while you catch your breath."
I wouldn't catch my breath, because every stroke inside of me stole it away again, but I would rest. Torion's hand held my head into the pillow as he thrust, and I shook as he settled his knot inside of me, delirious with how it pressed to every nerve, creating a sensation that rose and rose and rose and never fell.
Claws dragged like fire down the back of my thigh, and I woke with a garbled shout, trying and failing to sit up as my stomach burned with the effort.
"You never stretch, do you? You're damn tight, witch. If I'd realized— Well, no, I didn't have the patience when it arrived, did I?"
I groped the bed, grabbed something soft in my fist—likely a pillow—and threw it at Torion in an attempt to shut him up. I deserved sleep. Another decade of it, at least.
His hands on the back of my thigh shifted, warm and gentle, until they were forcing my knee toward my chest, the taut and tired muscles from thigh to ass and even back screaming in protest.
"Shh, just another moment. Try to breathe," Torion soothed as he tortured me.
I took a breath to scream at him, then realized I was too tired for that too, and released it. Some of the tension and tug in my body settled into something resembling more of a stretch, and less of a string about to snap apart.
"That's it," he said, and then his hands did something magical, stroking from the back of my knee down, pausing where I resisted the most to work his fingers over knots before continuing on. "We'll get through the worst of it and then you'll fall back asleep for the rest," he said, like a promise.
It was a tempting thought, whatever it meant, but it didn't make any sense. I frowned, wanting only to fall back asleep, but Torion was straightening my leg out, turning my foot in one hand to roll my ankle while the other massaged my calf.
"What are you doing?" I asked, managing to open my eyes enough to see his shadow in the bed.
It was nighttime, but I could make him out well enough to know that his size had settled back some—still massive, likely more so than before the rut, but not as overwhelmingly huge as he'd been…
a day ago? Or was it two? I'd lost track of time early in the rut and then time had ceased meaning anything at all.
"Taking care of you," Torion said, so easily.
I blamed my exhaustion on why the words made my eyes water.
"You're the alpha. That's what I'm meant to do for you," I murmured.
I tried so hard not to think of Malcolm constantly, to compare the two men, but it came up regardless.
The way I'd dragged myself from nests on boneless, bruised legs to arrange baths and meals, to clean up after Malcolm's ruts, to ease his rest. And they hadn't been nearly so long or… vigorous as Torion's.
Faintly damp lips brushed against my ankle, and a little hazy recollection of Torion growling as he licked and kissed his way up every inch of each leg shivered through me, warming my limbs and core.
"I think you've more than done your part on that front, Brigid," Torion said softly. "I've never been so well taken care of in my life."
I snorted. "What about the brothel and the dozens of women you—" I grunted as he pinched the back of my thigh.
"Don't make me tell you how absolutely incomparable that experience was to this. It'll only make you frown and go shy and crabby," Torion said.
I blinked up at the shadow of the canopy over our heads, startled and exposed and embarrassed by my own temperament.
"See?" he said, lowering my leg, then shifting to my other hip to repeat the process.
I huffed. "You made a bad bargain for a crabby omega—"
Torion growled, and my heel thumped to the mattress as his hands braced on either side of my head. His heat was still rolling off his skin, and it covered me like a blanket as he brought his face nearly to mine, until our noses brushed.
"I didn't make a bargain. I claimed what was mine.
And in exchange, you may have whatever you ask of me that's within my power to give, including my first heir I've no doubt we achieved recently.
And because you don't ask for very much, I'll throw in a good stretch and some care for your well used body. "
I swallowed hard, unable to think at all, let alone of anything to say in response. Torion's mouth settled over mine, hard and demanding, his tongue stroking my bruised lips and gaining the entry he sought. He still tasted of me, and I moaned, barely able to raise my arms to hold him close.
He gasped, stealing some of my breath for his own, and ducked his head away when I chased for another kiss.
"The rut's nearly over, enough that I can resist a bit. Let me take care of you tonight, and we'll burn through the last of it in the morning. Hold your enchantments at bay a little longer, witch."
I swallowed my whine as he pulled away and squeezed my eyes shut. Oh, how I hated him, this perfect, sweet man with words that made me feel as transparent as glass, words that cut me open and dug about in all my rotten places.
Please, I begged my heart, please let this fire he stokes be hate.
Torion woke me with gentle kisses on my shoulders, then wrapped me up in a careful cradle of arms and legs, his chest against my back, and slid inside of me.
"Just relax," he murmured, barely moving inside of me, a soft and all too satisfying grind.
"I should be sick of this feeling by now," I blurted out, turning my face into a pillow to hide my panting breaths.
Torion laughed. "I'm sorry to tell you, but I'm quite sure I never will."
I grit my teeth against the claim, the way it lit a small match of happiness inside of me. He didn't have to mean it about me. He'd realize at some point any woman might do.
"I'll try not to burden you too much," Torion continued, playful and light, barely whispering, as if to keep the moment a secret even from the air around us.
He didn't mean it, didn't think yet how he might share "the burden" of our lovemaking with others.
Logically, I knew that Torion wouldn't say such a thing.
I was just too tired. I couldn't keep the shield around my heart up, couldn't keep the bitterness that had grown thorns in me at bay.
We were too close now for me to withdraw. There was nowhere to go.
"Brigid?" he asked, holding still, tugging one shoulder to twist me enough for him to make out my crumpled expression. "Are you hurt? Too sore?"
I shook my head and tried to hide it, but he was already pulling out of me, drawing my sob out twofold at the aching memories and the loss of him.
I rolled to follow him, scrambled and wrestled back his hands until I knelt over him, reaching between us to draw his still stiff length back inside of me, my sigh of relief obvious enough to give Torion pause.
"Don't stop," I said, my throat tight with tears, the words choking on the past.
He sat up as I started to ride him, a rickety, weak rhythm, but still, he felt so lovely inside of me, and I could see the way his breath hitched. In another moment, he'd forget my wavering and give in to the—
Torion's hands cupped my face, and my mouth wobbled, my eyes squeezing shut.
"Be here, with me," he pleaded, feathering his mouth back and forth over my cheeks, the bridge of my nose, down to sip at my flattened lips.
I took a deep breath, and together we rocked, just once. His hands petted over my back, up and down my shoulders where he'd worked his hands the night before. It wasn't his fault. He didn't know yet, didn't believe it of himself that his eyes would stray and then his heart and body too.
He's here now, I reminded myself. Just now. Not forever. You don't have to give him forever. Just now.
I breathed slowly, loosened my mouth, and kissed him softly.
His thumbs stroked my jaw, then my temples.
I opened my eyes and smiled when we both went cross-eyed, too close to look at one another properly.
He dropped another kiss on my forehead, and together we moved, no thrusts, no surging, a soft back-and-forth, keeping close and quiet, right to the finish.
Torion's knot throbbed between us, but he held my gaze, waiting and watching, until I pressed down, taking him in to the hilt.
His eyes fell shut on a groan, and with gentle tugs I pulled him on top of me.
"I'm here with you," I promised, stroking his hair back from his face, wrapping my legs around his hips. "I'm here now."