Chapter 22 Heidi
HEIDI
My breath catches in my throat as I watch his eyes darken at my words. The fire in his gaze promises exactly what I'm asking for—possession, pain, pleasure all wrapped together in a way that only he can deliver.
"Such a perfect little masochist," he murmurs, voice rough with approval. "Always so eager for what I want to give you."
His hands move to the laces of my festival dress, fingers working with deliberate slowness that makes me squirm beneath his attention. The fabric loosens inch by torturous inch, each brush of his knuckles against my skin sending sparks of electricity through me.
"Patience, little thief," he says when I try to arch up into his touch. "I want to savor this."
The dress slides off my shoulders, pooling around my waist as he exposes my breasts to the flickering firelight. His eyes drink in the sight of me like a man dying of thirst, and through our bond I feel the surge of possessive hunger that crashes through him.
"Beautiful," he breathes, voice carrying reverent undertones that make my chest tight. "You have no idea how often I've pictured you like this."
His palms cup my breasts, thumbs brushing over nipples that tighten instantly under his touch. The gentle caress is almost too much after the intensity of anticipation, and I can't stop the soft whimper that escapes my lips.
"So responsive," he praises, then pinches my nipples just hard enough to make me gasp. "I love the sounds you make for me."
He continues his slow exploration, hands mapping every inch of skin he reveals as he works my dress lower. The fabric whispers against my thighs as he draws it down my legs, leaving me bare except for the thin scrap of undergarments that's already soaked through with my arousal.
"These too," he commands, fingers hooking in the waistband.
I lift my hips to help him, trembling with need as the last barrier between us disappears. The cool air against my heated skin makes me shiver, but his burning gaze warms me from the inside out.
"Perfect," he says again, voice dropping to that gravelly tone that makes my thighs clench. "Absolutely perfect."
Through our bond, I can feel his satisfaction at having me spread out before him, naked and wanting. The possessive pleasure radiating from him intensifies my own arousal until I'm dizzy with it.
"Now you watch me," he orders, straightening to stand beside the bed.
My mouth goes dry as his hands move to his own clothes. He strips with the same deliberate slowness he used on me, each revealed inch of golden skin making my breath catch. The muscles of his chest and shoulders ripple in the firelight, every line carved with predatory grace.
When his shirt hits the floor, I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning aloud.
His torso is a masterpiece of controlled power—broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, abs that flex with each breath.
The tattoos along his spine catch the light, ancient runes that seem to pulse with their own inner fire.
"Like what you see?" he asks, smirking at my obvious appreciation.
I can only nod, words beyond me as he works his pants lower. My eyes follow the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath the waistband, and when he finally pushes the fabric down his powerful thighs, I have to grip the sheets to keep from reaching for him.
He's magnificent naked—all golden skin and corded muscle, wings spread slightly for balance as he stands before me without shame. But it's his cock that makes my breath catch in my throat. He's massive, thick and long and already hard for me, the head flushed dark with arousal.
"I can feel how much you want me," he says, voice thick with satisfaction as he climbs onto the bed. "Your desire is practically singing through our bond."
The observation makes heat flood my cheeks, but I can't deny it. Through our connection, he knows exactly how desperately I need him, how the sight of his naked body has me clenching with empty want.
"Please," I whisper, the word torn from me by pure need.
"What do you want, little thief?" He settles beside me, one hand trailing down my body to tease between my thighs. "Tell me what you need."
"You," I gasp as his fingers find my wetness. "I need you inside me."
"How?" His finger circles my clit with maddening lightness, not nearly enough pressure to satisfy. "Tell me exactly how you want me to take you."
My cheeks burn with embarrassment, but the dominant edge in his voice compels honesty. "I want to ride you," I admit breathlessly. "I want to feel every inch of you filling me."
The predatory smile that spreads across his face at my confession makes my pulse spike. "Such a good girl, telling me what you need." His fingers press harder against my clit, making me arch into his touch. "I want to see you sink down on my cock. Want to watch your face when you take all of me."
The explicit words send liquid fire through my veins, and I'm up on my knees in an instant, desperate to give him exactly what he's asking for. My body thrums with anticipation as he settles back against the headboard, cock jutting proudly from his body.
"Come here," he commands, hands gripping my waist as I straddle his thighs.
The position puts my breasts level with his mouth, and he takes immediate advantage, capturing one nipple between his lips. The wet heat of his tongue makes me moan, hands fisting in his dark hair as he sucks hard enough to leave marks.
His teeth graze the sensitive peak before he moves to lavish the same attention on my other breast. Each pull of his mouth sends sparks of pleasure straight to my core, making me grind against his thighs in search of friction.
"So impatient," he murmurs against my skin, then bites down on the tender curve of my breast hard enough to make me gasp.
The sharp pain blooms into pleasure almost instantly, and I feel his satisfaction through our bond as he marks my skin. His mouth moves to my throat, teeth finding the sensitive spot where my pulse hammers frantically.
"Mine," he growls against my neck before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.
I can't stop the moan that tears from my throat as he marks me, the possessive bite sending heat spiraling through me. Through our connection, I feel his primal satisfaction at claiming me, at leaving visible proof of his ownership on my skin.
His hands slide down to grip my ass, fingers digging in with bruising force that makes me whimper. The pressure borders on painful, but the edge of discomfort only amplifies my arousal.
"Ride me," he commands, voice rough with barely contained need. "Take what you want."
I rise up on my knees, one hand bracing on his shoulder while the other guides his cock to my entrance. The broad head presses against my wetness, and even that slight contact makes us both groan.
"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he says, voice strained as I begin to sink down.
The stretch as he fills me is intense, almost overwhelming. He's so much bigger than I remembered, thick enough that I have to go slowly despite how desperately I want him inside me. Each inch I take sends shockwaves of pleasure through my oversensitive body.
"That's it," he encourages, hands tightening on my ass as I work myself lower. "Take all of me."
I bottom out with a cry that's half pleasure, half relief.
The feeling of being completely filled, stretched to my limits around his thick length, makes my inner muscles clench involuntarily.
Through our bond, I feel his answering surge of sensation, the way my body gripping his drives him closer to the edge of control.
Without warning, his palm cracks against my ass in a sharp slap that makes me jolt with surprise. The sting fades quickly into warmth, then into a deeper ache that somehow intensifies the pleasure of having him buried inside me.
"More," I gasp, already addicted to the combination of pleasure and pain only he can provide.
"Greedy little thing," he says approvingly, then delivers another sharp slap to my other cheek.
I moan at the impact, inner muscles clenching around his cock in response to the delicious pain. His breathing grows ragged as I begin to move, rising up until only the head of him remains inside me before sinking back down with deliberate slowness.
"Faster," he commands, hands gripping my hips with bruising force.
I obey eagerly, setting a rhythm that has us both panting within moments. The angle lets him hit that perfect spot deep inside me with every thrust, pleasure building with each movement of my hips. His mouth finds my throat again, teeth leaving a trail of marks down the column of my neck.
"You feel so perfect around me," he groans against my skin. "Like you were made for my cock."
The crude words make me clench around him, drawing a harsh curse from his lips. His hands guide my movements, helping me ride him harder, deeper, until I'm gasping with each thrust.
When his mouth moves to my breast, I expect more of the same hard bites and sucking. Instead, his teeth close around my nipple with enough force to break skin and make me cry out, the sharp pain sending lightning through my nervous system.
"I love hearing you scream for me," he says against my skin, then soothes the sting with his tongue.
The combination of pain and pleasure has me trembling on the edge of release already.
Through our bond, I can feel his own mounting pleasure, the way my responses drive his arousal higher.
It creates a feedback loop that intensifies everything—each sensation amplified by feeling it through both our perspectives.
"Please," I beg, movements becoming more frantic as the pressure builds. "I need—"
"I know what you need," he interrupts.
I'm so close, trembling on the very edge of release, when flames suddenly flicker to life around his fingers.