12. Cheribelle #2
That was when I saw exactly what I’d read about online but never really thought about.
His knot.
Holy shit!
I’d seen pictures of what a typical wolf shifter’s knot looked like, but it had been more a detached fascination than any sort of fetish.
After all, wolves were one of the few shifters that had it.
From what I’d read, bears didn’t, and neither did any of the large cat shifters.
As far as I knew, only canid and reptilian shifters had such specifically different reproductive organs.
“Yeah…” I said on a breath, staring at the swell of it between his fingers.
It wasn’t that exaggerated, but that didn’t mean it was going to stay that way.
Everything I’d read had said it would fill with blood just like an erection before an orgasm, then it would lock a wolf shifter inside of his mating partner for a few minutes to maybe even half an hour.
It was meant to ensure pregnancy, to keep a wolf’s seed nice and cozy up against a fertile place. Thankfully, I was on birth control up the wazoo and had been since I’d hit puberty, so I didn’t have to worry about that .
“Think you can take it?” he murmured with that same commanding charm despite the fact that his primal nature seemed to be taking over more and more by the minute. But then all the heat faded a fraction, the beast in him receded, and he pinned me with his steely gaze. “You don’t have to.”
Another check-in. Honestly, it was so damn hot. Who would have thought that the tight-laced middle son of a wealthy shifter family would hit every mark for me?
We may have come from different worlds, but right now, we were occupying the same reality.
“I want to,” I said. “Green all the way. I promise.”
The caution slid out of his body language, and we zipped right back to eleven again. His intense masculinity, the way he moved between civil and wild, was absolutely doing it for me.
“Good.” And really, that was all that needed to be said.
He kissed me again, just as bruising, just as demanding as before, if not more so. All my thoughts, which had been trying to return to their normal storm of too many things all on top of each other at the same time, settled again in the pursuit of a single goal.
And it was that I fucking wanted to come.
Not exactly enlightened, but who cared? Certainly not me.
Paul lined himself up with my entrance, the head of his cock rubbing against me as he slicked himself up with my arousal. The impetuous side of me flared because I wanted him in me, and I wanted it right now.
Thankfully, he didn’t make me wait for long. No, he lingered for a breath or two longer, then he finally slid into me.
I hissed—how could I not with how he was stretching me out?
It was a stretch bordering on painful, but I loved the tug of it.
The burn. It put me so incredibly in the present, which was normally extremely difficult for me to achieve.
All my concentration was centered on how we were connected, on every sensation flowing through me.
“Fuck, you take me so good,” Paul said, his voice sin and ichor all bundled up together. The entire room was filled with different shades of his own experience, amplifying things even more. “Look at you, halfway to my knot.”
Only halfway? How the hell was that possible? It felt like he was nearly in my stomach.
Well, I guess it had been a long time…
“Breathe, Cherry. I can hear your heartbeat speeding up.”
I would have argued that it was a perfectly acceptable time to have an elevated heartrate, but then he slid in deeper, and all I could do was gasp and arch into it.
I cracked my eyes open, drinking in that dominant expression on his stunning face, all of his usual poise forgotten, but then I glanced behind him to the swirling mass.
He still had all the passion, lust, and desire of before, but so much more had bled into it.
Fractals of icy blue patience and reserve.
Maybe it was freaky of me, but I loved that he had to try so hard not to ravage me.
As if I were so wanted, so desirable, that it took all his control not to lose himself to his primal urges.
Then there were vesica piscis of lavender and cerulean; intersecting twin orbs of pleasure and control. Wobbly little streaks of worry, which would normally be a turnoff, but I sensed it was more him worried about coming too soon rather than something wrong with what we were doing.
“ More, ” I pleaded again. Even though I felt pushed to my limit already, that same insatiable part of me wanted to go even further.
“You want more, you’ll get more.”
It was a promise. A threat. A benediction and tease all in one. And all I could do was breathe and cling to him as my body accepted more of his length.
He pulsed his hips, occasionally slowly drawing back before pushing forward again. His hands roved over me, feeling me, claiming me.
I loved it. God, I loved it. When our hips were almost flush, I couldn’t help but let out a mewl. Only his knot was left.
I was in heaven. Strange how the deepest pits of hedonism got me there.
“There you go, you’re almost there,” Paul murmured before he lowered his head and wrapped his lips around one of my nipples. The spike of pleasure had my whole body responding, and I felt myself relax around him. “You’re doing so good.”
Was the praise corny? Possibly. But it was perfect, and I practically glowed at the compliment. Yeah, I was taking him well. Determination surged through me, and I wanted to make him come so hard he’d have to fight to keep his human form.
It was important to have goals.
“Do it,” I hissed, nails raking down his back. “I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, his hand sliding into the scant space between us, fingers rubbing my swollen clit. “Don’t wanna let go one more time before taking my knot? You do make the prettiest face when you lose control.”
Lose control? That was one way to put it.
“I’m sure,” I said in a raspy voice, wondering how much longer I would even be verbal. I could feel myself falling into the rich depths of it all. It wasn’t easy for the line from my brain to my mouth to be disrupted, and I wanted to take advantage of it.
The rumble that came from Paul’s chest was a better vibration than my Hitachi. My eyes rolled back in my head as he closed the last of the distance between us. For a moment, it seemed impossible that the bulge would fit, but then he pulled out and thrust in again.
Again.
Again.
It was a constant ebb and flow. There was a curve to him that hit something inside me, something I wasn’t used to being stimulated, and it had me fluttering between feeling like I was going to shake apart into pieces or that all my muscles were going to contract me into a compressed ball.
“I can feel you relaxing around me,” he murmured before his mouth found my nipple again, his hand returning to working circles on and around my clit. Never too much sensation but enough to fry my brain. “That’s a good girl. Let me in. Let me in, gorgeous.”
He thinks I’m gorgeous?
I mean, I would hope so?
“Deep breath now, Cherry.”
Somehow I managed that, and then finally, finally, he was pressing the rest of the way in. Not just teasing my entrance with the top of his knot, but fully pushing into me until we were skin to skin, our bodies flush.
“ Fuck! ” I cried, so consumed by everything.
“That’s it, that’s fucking it,” Paul chanted as he rocked into me. He never pulled out all the way, but he didn’t need to. Not when he filled me so completely, touched every part of me. “You’re gonna come on my knot, aren’t you? Gonna fall apart for me like the gorgeous girl you are?”
Normally, I’d push back against the authority in his tone, but there was nothing normal about what was happening between me and him.
Something about his command gripped me, or maybe it was the way he was completely working me over, because I felt that tantalizing wave of euphoria rapidly rolling toward me.
“I-I-I….”
His lips captured mine once more, and he changed the angle of his hips just so. There was no mercy after that. The pressure building inside me burst like a dam, and I was utterly consumed.
“Oh my god, Paul, Paul! ”
My entire mind whited out, my ears rang, and even the breath in my lungs felt like a punch. It was the most exquisite torture, a rhapsody of agony and ecstasy.
There was no telling how long it lasted. It could have been a few epochs, it could have been seconds; I had no way of knowing. It was all-consuming in its intensity, and I never wanted it to stop.
The only blip of reality that managed to leak in was when Paul let out a roar, and I felt his knot throb within me with an almost punch-drunk force. It sounded like it would be unpleasant, but it was anything but. It was unstoppable, inevitable, and it made my orgasm last that much longer.
“I…” My breath hitched as I slowly came down, Paul holding my hips almost reverently, the muscles in his neck and chest still taut with their furor. I didn’t really know what I was planning to say, only that I felt like I should utter something.
“It’s okay,” Paul panted. God, I loved how fucked out he sounded. I did that to him. Made me feel powerful in a very inebriated manner. “Just rest. Breathe, let yourself come down.”
That sounded like an excellent idea. It wasn’t like I was going anywhere anyway. Paul’s knot would make sure of that. So, I relaxed as best I could, filled like I was, and let myself drift.
My mind went this way and that, unfettered by logic or reality.
Some moments I envisioned myself as a she-wolf, mating with Paul so we could fill our den with pups.
Some moments I was solving the case, and Paul and I celebrated in a similar way.
Some moments, I was just floating in a warm ocean, completely relaxed and unburdened.
Unfortunately, fantasy could only last for so long, and eventually, I came back to myself.