Chapter 17 #3
I don't know if I'm begging him to stop or never stop. My body has stopped taking orders from my brain. There's only sensation. Only his mouth and his fingers and the hot water streaming over us and the stone wall holding me up because my legs have forgotten how to function.
“One more.” He murmurs the words against my inner thigh, and I sob at the promise. “Then I'll let you rest.”
His thumb replaces his tongue on my clit, circling until my vision whites out at the edges. His fingers thrust deeper, faster, and I'm climbing again before the last orgasm has faded.
The third peak crashes through me in a blinding rush. I arch away from the wall, spine bowing. I clench around him, and the sound I make is more sob than moan, more surrender than pleasure.
He works me through it. Gentles his touch as my body goes limp on his shoulders.
He lowers my legs to the ground, and my knees fold.
He catches me before I fall. His arms band around my waist, and he rises in one motion, pulling me against his chest. I slump into him, boneless and wrung out, my cheek pressed to the hard planes of his chest. His hearts pound beneath my ear. Fast. Almost as fast as mine.
“I've got you.” His lips brush my temple. “I've got you.”
I can't speak. Can't form words. My entire body is still shaking with aftershocks, muscles twitching in places I didn't know could twitch. The water runs hot over my shoulders, and his arms hold me upright, and I've never been so thoroughly undone in my entire life.
He makes a sound low in his chest. That rumble-purr that vibrates through his body and into mine. The sensation travels down my spine and settles between my thighs, and somehow, impossibly, heat stirs again beneath the exhaustion.
“More.” The word escapes before I can stop it. “I want more.”
His arms tighten around me. “You'll have everything. But first, let me take care of you.”
He shuts off the water and reaches for a towel, wrapping it around me. He dries my hair, my shoulders, the spaces between my fingers. Runs the soft fabric down my legs and between my thighs, and even that simple touch makes me shiver.
When he's finished, he lifts me again. Carries me to the bed I glimpsed when we entered. Lays me down on sheets that smell of nothing but clean fabric and possibility.
“My turn.” I reach for him, but he catches my wrists and pins them above my head.
“Not yet.” He settles his weight over me, mindful not to crush. The hard length of his cock presses against my thigh, ridged heat that makes me arch toward him. “I'm nowhere near finished with you.”
His mouth finds my throat, trails lower, maps the claiming marks he left during our first joining with lips and tongue and the deliberate graze of fangs. Each mark heats beneath his attention. Throat, hips, inner thighs that ache in anticipation of his return.
“I thought about this.” He kisses his way down my body. “While I hunted. While I tore through my father's people searching for you. The only thing that kept me from going feral was the thought of having you again.”
His mouth closes around my nipple. His tongue swirls against the peak while his hand finds my neglected breast, rolling, teasing, building heat that pools low in my belly.
“Drazex.” His name splinters on my lips. “Please. I need you inside me.”
“Please what?” He shifts to my other breast, and the cool air against wet skin makes me shiver. “Tell me what you need, my Chosen.”
“You. Your cock. I need you to fill me, knot me, make me yours again.”
He groans against my skin. “I’ll give you everything you want. Keep your hands above your head.”
He releases my wrists. I keep them where he placed them, because the command still echoes in my blood and I want to be good for him. Want to give him this surrender the way he gave me his on his knees in the shower.
He shifts, settling his hips between my thighs, and the weight of his cock presses against my entrance. Hot. Hard. The ridges along his shaft prominent with arousal, the knot at his base already beginning to swell. I spread my legs wider, tilt my hips up, offering myself to him without words.
“Look at you.” His voice has dropped into a rasp that scrapes over my nerve endings. “Spread open for me. Wet for me. So ready you're dripping onto the sheets.”
I am. Slick heat pools beneath me, evidence of what his mouth did to me in the shower, what his hands did on this bed, what the mere sight of him does to every nerve in my body.
“Please.” The word comes out broken. “I need you inside me. I need you to fill me.”
He notches the blunt head of his cock against my opening. The pressure makes me gasp. He’s thick, thicker than my body should be able to accommodate, and the memory of our first time floods through me. Stretch and burn and the way he waited for me to adjust before giving me more.
He pushes forward, and the first inch breaches me.
I suck in a breath. My walls grip him, pulling him deeper even as they struggle to accommodate his girth. He's so hot inside me, and the heat spreads through my belly and radiates outward.
“More.” I lift my hips, trying to take him deeper. “Give me more.”
“Patience.” He pulls back, and the ridge at his tip drags against my entrance, and pleasure shoots up my spine. “I want to savor this. Want to remember every second of being inside you.”
He pushes forward again. Another inch. The first ridge breaches me, and the sensation of it popping past my entrance makes us both groan. He's stretching me open, filling me one torturous inch at a time, and the pleasure borders on pain in ways that make me crave more.
“Drazex.” His name spills from my lips. “Please. I can take it. I can take all of you.”
“I know you can.” He rocks his hips, working himself deeper with shallow thrusts that drive me mad. “You were made for me. Made to take my cock, my knot, everything I have to give.”
Another inch. Another ridge slipping past my entrance, dragging against nerves that blank my thoughts. I'm panting now, chest heaving, fists twisted in the sheets above my head as he fills me degree by agonizing degree.
“You're so tight.” The words grate from his throat. “So wet and hot and perfect around my cock. I could stay buried in you forever.”
He thrusts deeper, and the next ridge breaches me, and I cry out at the sensation.
Four ridges now, each one a band of raised flesh that presses against my walls in ways that destroy coherent thought.
Every inch of him registers against my nerve endings.
Every texture. Every pulse of heat from his arousal.
“Almost there.” He pulls back and drives forward, and another inch disappears inside me. “Almost all of me. Can you take the rest, my Chosen? Can you take my knot?”
“Yes.” The word breaks into a sob. “Yes. Give me everything. I want all of you inside me.”
He snaps his hips forward, and the final inches bury themselves to the hilt.
I scream. Not from pain. From the overwhelming fullness of having him seated inside me, from the pressure of his knot nudging my entrance, from the sensation of being so thoroughly filled that I don't know where I end and he begins.
He stills. His forehead drops to mine, and his breath comes in ragged gasps against my lips. He throbs inside me. The ridges pulse against my walls. His knot swells at my entrance in anticipation of what's to come.
“Look at me.” I need to see his face when we begin.
I bring my arms down and wrap them around his neck. “I love you, Drazex. I think I have since you hummed your mother's song and thought I couldn't hear.”
His entire body shudders. His hands frame my face, tilting my gaze up to meet his, and what lives in his expression strips me bare.
“I didn't know I could.” His thumb traces my cheekbone. “I didn't know there was anything left in me capable of it.”
His hips shift, withdrawing before sliding home again. The ridges drag against every nerve ending, and I gasp at the sensation.
“And you proved him wrong.” Another thrust, deeper this time.
“So good.” The words rumble from his chest as he drives into me. “You take me so well. Perfect. Mine.”
“Yours.” I arch into his next thrust, claiming him back. “And you're mine.”
“Always.” He seals the promise with a kiss, his tongue stroking against mine in the same rhythm as his hips. “I love you, Maeve Vance. I will love you until the stars burn out and the universe forgets how to breathe.”
The intensity builds. His pace increases, and the bed protests beneath us. His fangs graze my throat. Not biting. The threat and the trust coexisting in the measured scrape of points that never break skin.
I drag my nails down his back, and he groans at the sensation. The scales give beneath pressure, leaving marks that will heal but prove I was here. Prove he's mine as much as I'm his.
“Harder.” The demand tears from my throat. “I need... Drazex, please...”
He obeys. His hips snap forward in a rhythm that drives the breath from my lungs, that fills the room with the sound of flesh meeting flesh. His hand slides between us, finding my clit, and his thumb circles with a pressure that makes my vision blur.
“Come for me.” His voice has dropped into the register that scrapes along my spine. “Come on my cock, Maeve. Let me feel you.”
The orgasm builds from the base of my spine and expands outward until I'm nothing but sensation, nothing but the place where his body moves inside mine. I shatter around him, walls clenching, his name torn from my throat.
He follows me over. The swelling at his base presses against my entrance, stretching, demanding, and I push back into it instead of tensing away. I crave his knot this time. Crave the pressure that locks us together, the tie that holds him inside me while his body decides we're finished.
“Yes.” The word escapes on a breath I barely have left. “Give me all of it. I want to feel you locked inside me.”