Chapter 12 - Rick #2
She swallowed, scent spiking. Then, in a steady, even voice, she spoke. “I give you my consent.”
His finger scraped against the wood, and he snarled, “Be precise, Rosalia. What do you give your consent for?”
Her eyes were half-wild as they met his.
“Everything.”
Their lips collided in a furious battle of wills, hot and insistent and demanding.
It was no surprise at all that Rosalia was no wilting flower, no gentle, delicate thing. She fought him with her kisses, unpracticed and messy, but primal and hungry in a way that made his wolf snarl in satisfaction.
His blood was still high from the fight, his blood singing with raw, animal satisfaction at having defeated his enemies. At having claimed his female.
And now, he would show her exactly what it meant to be his.
He lifted her up, growling as her legs wrapped around his hips, her beautiful dark hair falling over his shoulder as she tilted her head to deepen their kiss.
Striding towards the bed, he reared back, his fingers pressing tight into the soft flesh of her rear, “I assume your idiot father insisted on your chastity.”
She growled, recapturing his lips, “I don’t want to talk about my father right now. But yes. He did.”
“Then I’ll do my best to be gentle,” Rick said, punctuating his words by tossing her onto the bed.
With an almost savage grin, she got to her knees. “What if I don’t want you to be gentle?”
Knocking her back down, he captured her wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above her head, the other closing around her throat, “Don’t ask for things you don’t yet understand, little wolf.”
She keened as his hand trailed lower, cupping her breast, his thumb rubbing over one engorged nipple through the thin fabric of her robe. Her legs clamped around his hips, pulling him against her with surprising strength, grinding up into his rapidly hardening length.
He groaned at the contact, his lips falling to her neck, giving in to the insistent urge to clamp his teeth into the tender flesh he found there, leaving his mark on her pale skin. Without preamble, he scraped his teeth lower, wrenching her robe open to tug her red nipple between his teeth.
With a sharp gasp, she bucked upwards, muscles straining against his grip on her ribs. With almost brutal delight, she hitched one leg higher, her knee pressing into the sensitive bruise at his ribs.
He hissed, rearing backwards, forcing her leg back down.
Smiling up at him with satisfied glee, she snapped her teeth in challenge.
She was resplendent in her beauty, her wildness.
The cheeky girl had nothing beneath her robe, leaving her pale body utterly bare to his eyes, and he drank in her luscious curves with greedy abandonment.
She shifted, raising her chest, rosy nipples almost painfully taut.
His wolf practically howled.
He’d always known there was something of the wild animal within her.
“Careful,” he said, tightening his grip on her wrists, “or I’ll put you over my knee.”
“What’s stopping you?” she said, undulating her hips, rubbing her damp core against the hardness straining through his trousers.
He captured her neck between his teeth, relishing the sweet taste of salt and fire, “Nothing,” his voice was dark and full of deadly promise. “I can do whatever I want. I’m just not sure you’re ready for what that means.”
“Then show me,” she said, her voice almost desperate.
He chuckled. “All in good time, little wolf. But first…” he reached down, undoing his trousers, his hard length springing free. He rubbed himself through her dripping folds, eyes sparking as her lips fell open in silent pleasure.
Oh, the things he would show her.
He dropped his forehead to hers, their breaths mingling between them.
“Ready?” he asked, the head of his cock bumping against her clit in a delicious rhythm. He looked forward immensely to demonstrating just how much pleasure he could bring her, but he needed to claim her first. Needed to feel her walls clamping around him, his name on her lips.
She nodded, panting, nipples scraping against his chest. “I’m ready.”
Slowly, he pushed into her, meeting some resistance at her entrance. He watched her face carefully, looking for any sign of pain, before pushing through her barrier.
She winced, hissing out a curse, and he paused, letting her adjust. She took a few deep breaths, and his hand curled into the sheets, his jaw clenching.
God, but she felt glorious.
Hot and tight and wet and perfect.
She sucked in a breath, giving an experimental wiggle of her hips, her eyes widening as she clenched around him.
With a snarl, he released her wrists, bracing his arms on either side of her, muscles tensing with the sheer effort of resisting the temptation to move. He didn’t want to hurt her.
Not unless she wanted him to.
“I think,” she said, biting her swollen lower lip between her teeth, “I think you can move now.”
He didn’t need to be asked twice.
Gently, he began rocking his hips. When her eyes widened and her little hands scrabbled at his shoulders, he grinned savagely and thrust harder.
Rosalia groaned, fingernails digging into his skin, the delicious bite of pain enhancing the pure pleasure he was taking from her body.
He was no stranger to sex. The type of man he was, he needed to let loose. Needed to expel some of his savagery. He’d had shifters of all kinds, humans too on occasion, women with years of experience who knew all the pretty sounds to make, who knew how to take him.
Rosalia had none of their guile, their careful, practiced perfection.
And yet there was something about her that drove him wild.
Perhaps it was the way she met his thrusts with a savagery of her own, the way she took pleasure from him just as he did her.
They were both wolves, but it was more than that.
They both had a savagery within them. A wildness they could not deny.
And it was addictive.
Rosalia’s orgasm hit her hard and sudden, her eyes widening and her muscles shaking as she fell apart, her core tightening with a vice-like grip around him. He snarled, pounding harder into her willing flesh, his own release close.
He came with a roar, burying himself deep within her, wave after wave of pleasure crashing into him.
Normally, when he finished, that was that. He’d gather his things and leave.
But not with her.
He gathered her into his arms, rolling over so that she was tucked into his side, and pressed a kiss to her hair.
She giggled, high and breathy, her legs trembling slightly. “That was…was…amazing!”
He smiled at the wonder in her voice, pulling her closer.
“Can we do it again?”
He laughed then, lifting her chin to press a kiss to her lips. “Tomorrow, little wolf. You need to rest now.”
He reached over and flicked off the light, darkness enveloping them in a welcoming blanket. Rosalia sighed and nuzzled into him.
For a while, the only sounds were their breaths and the beat of their hearts.
And then she spoke.
“Thank you. For saving me.”
He inhaled, his chest tightening.
“You’re welcome.”