Chapter 55 Slick Floors and Volkin Roars
SLICK FLOORS AND VOLKIN ROARS
“Even the fiercest bond wilts when the winds of war blow, Rose and Guardian. Hold fast to each other.”
—Elder A?na, during the bonding ritual
Theron
Ican feel her thoughts. She’s disappointed.
What kind of male am I to disappoint my mate? After centuries of control, after seeking release countless times over the past four hundred years, I can’t even hold myself back?
But she’s so tight. So beautiful, lying between the most precious blue roses.
It drives me mad. I nearly lost it the moment I was inside her, just the tip, and I was already on the edge.
Goddesses, give me strength. I swear I’ll leave more offerings.
I spilled my release on the floor. I didn’t want to do it inside her.
Not yet. I want her to take my knot, to feel me fully, to tremble beneath me as I bring her to the peak of pleasure. My mate. My sweet mate.
I’m so sorry.
She’s nestled in my arms as I carry her to our nest. Having our first time on the floor wasn’t what I planned, but something in my—our—minds changed. Instinct overtook plans.
Even though I only found release moments ago, I’m already hard again, swollen with need. I lay her on the furs, and for a moment, I can only stare. She is beyond beauty. My Noel, my little dove, is a goddess of both strength and desire.
The urge to be inside her again is unbearable.
My shaft throbs at the thought of it. Taking a slow breath, I rise to my knees.
She looks so small beneath me. A furless little dove, with dark eyes and curls between her muscled thighs.
Hooded eyes, flushed cheeks, legs spread, waiting for me to make her mine.
And I will. That is my intent.
“I’m going to devour you,” I groan. Before she can finish her gasp, I slide my cock into her swollen little cunt.
She slaps a hand over her mouth, stifling the breathless moan that escapes her lips.
I push her hand away with my snout and growl in her ear, “I want to hear you.” And then I start moving.
I thrust into her, dragging her tight, slick heat around me as she grips my fur. The sounds we make—the wet, desperate slap of skin, the broken gasps leaving her lips—will be the end of me. She will be the end of me.
One arm wrapped around her waist, my other braced against the furs above her head, I lift her, then thrust faster, harder. I pull her up in time with every drive of my hips, forcing her to take me deeper. Every time she meets my swollen knot, she holds her breath.
“Theron,” she pants, eyes glazed, nearly closed.
“Mine, Noel.” I snarl the words, a primal claim, and I lose myself in her.
My breath is ragged, saliva slipping past my lips and onto my mate’s breasts.
The droplets slide down her skin to pool in the hollow of her throat before rolling to the furs beneath her.
The faster I move, the faster they fall.
“Always mine,” I growl. “From the moment you were born, you were mine.” Another deep, guttural growl tears from me, vibrating against her skin as I rut into her like the beast I am.
“Ye”—she struggles to form words—“sss.” Her beautiful crystals shine bright, nearly blinding me.
Yes, yes, yes. Mine.
Her abs tense every time I thrust. Her cries are breaking apart, ruined and perfect. Because of me. I drag my tongue along the curve of her throat, tasting the salt of her sweat, then I grin against her ear. “And, now.”
With a final, brutal thrust, I force my knot into her, and the world goes white.
A violent snarl rips from my chest as I lock us together, as her body clenches down, so tight. It burns. The pressure is excruciating. My vision tunnels, black and red and pure instinct. My knees nearly give out, my entire body shakes.
Goddesses above.
I grip her hips so hard I know she’ll bruise, but I need her to feel this, to feel me, to know she is mine.
“The knot,” she chokes out, her voice barely there, her body wrecked beneath me. Her lashes flutter, wet with tears.
“The knot,” I echo, dragging my teeth along her shoulder, sucking and biting.
We breathe each other’s breaths, her gasps feeding my hunger, my groans feeding her release. I spill deep inside her, my body shuddering as her own pleasure detonates. She jerks, spasms, and milks me for everything I have. Her body takes everything from me. Her soul sings to mine.
And I answer.
My forehead presses against hers as I hold her tight, my claws digging into her skin, keeping her exactly where she belongs. This is how it should be.
Her belly swells with my seed, rounding before my eyes. A low growl rumbles in my chest as I watch her body take everything I’ve given. Too good. Too much. It can’t be real. And yet, it is.
“Look how good you’re taking me,” I breathe.
“I . . . I . . .” my Noel gasps, her gaze unfocused, hazed with pleasure.
I trace my tongue over her face, soothing her. Vólkin semen is thicker than human, as Elder A?na once explained. It clings to the walls of the female’s canal and locks the knot in place. And I want it to stay there forever. I’ll take her again. And again.
“I thought I might meet my mother,” she murmurs with a smile as she lies boneless beneath me.
“And I thought I’d meet mine,” I grin, nuzzling her.
She traces her fingers over her swollen belly. “I look like I’m with child.”
“One day,” I whisper. Still buried deep inside her, I shift us, pulling her into my arms and lying beside her before exhaustion claims me. If I don’t, I’ll collapse on top of her. I reach for more furs and tuck them around her so she’s warm and comfortable.
“I thought your tongue was good,” my mate mumbles before she quickly buries her reddening face in my chest. “What am I saying!!”
I chuckle, tugging her closer. My knot is slowly relaxing, so I shift my hips just a little.
She shudders.
So eager and slick. I move my hips back and forth. I could do this forever.
My mate moves her hips with mine, and I lean closer, half atop her, half sinking into the furs, unwilling to let her go. Then, a noise.
Both our heads snap toward the entrance of our home. With a sigh, I force myself to relax. “Come in.”
The door opens on five nymphí who bow to both of us before stepping around the mess I made on the floor and moving straight toward our nest. My mate’s horrified gaze meets mine. She is so amusing to me.
“The Lidé?en must heal before dawn,” one of the nymphí says, crouching beside us.
I huff, tightening my hold around my mate, wrapping my arms, legs, and tail around her, locking her to me. Still buried deep inside her. “I can heal her.”
Two of the nymphí sigh before kneeling beside Noel. “If you do that, noble guardian, you will continue mating until dawn,” one says, opening a small jar that smells of crushed herbs.
“While that is a good thing,” the other adds, reaching out and gripping my tail.
I jerk violently, a growl tearing from me. My tail is sensitive.
The nymphá does not flinch. “Tomorrow, we leave for war. So, please.”
My instincts war against reason. It is true, if I stay inside her, I might rot in my mate for the rest of our days. But that is not a bad thing.
I don’t want to pull out so soon.
“Theron, they’re right.” My mate sighs as she pulls away from me.
“I can apply the medicine.”
The two nymphí shake their heads in unison. “We will.”
And before I can protest, they begin unwrapping me from her completely.