Chapter 19 #2
His cock rose proudly from his groin, thick, with a flared head about the size of my fist. I knew that the lines along his gray shaft would swell, tying us together as he filled me, creating a seal so none of his seed could escape.
It was a scandalizing thought, to consider how built he was to ensure conception, and it made me want him so badly I clawed at his arm. “Now, Jaxin, take me now.”
He growled, wide mouth opening to display his sharp teeth, and a thrill of danger skated down my spine.
His powerful need for me blotted out everything else, filling my senses and pulling at the answering need within me.
I didn’t understand how I could feel so strongly me when his feelings were this powerful, but I did.
I knew exactly what I wanted, and that was freeing.
“Soon, little one,” he said, so much darkness in his tone that I felt my toes curl in the sheets.
When he spread my legs wide and gazed at the core of me, heat pooled and wetness rushed out.
My body eagerly remembered the last time, when he’d been so much I could barely take him at all.
He drew his fingers through my slit, then dipped a thick thumb into my opening and groaned in pleasure, cock kicking against his ridged abdomen.
“All mine,” he warned, claimed. I felt those words sink into me, burrow beneath my skin.
Hope unfurled in my chest that, after this, he’d want to keep me as much as I wanted to keep him.
His passion was too powerful for me to pick up the nuances I sought, so wild that it burned into my brain and claimed me there, too.
His thumb sank deeper, testing my wetness and tightness.
I arched, seeking more, but the warning in his eyes made me freeze in place again.
“This, it was untouched before me?” he asked, and when I nodded, his thumb slid in all the way, then came back out, stroking against all the sensitive inner nerves.
“I am the only male you’ll know.” I nodded again, because no matter what happened, I knew that was the truth.
There would be no one else after him, no one I could share this with. There would never be anyone like him.
“Good girl,” he snarled, and then he lunged, adrenaline rushing through my veins.
His thumb was replaced by his tongue, and a hint of teeth pressed against sensitive skin.
He lapped, stroked, filled me as he made sounds like a beast in pleasure.
He loved my taste; I could feel that so clearly that there was no part of me that could feel worry or shame.
He devoured me as if I were his last meal and he intended to savor every morsel.
The pleasure he created buzzed through my veins, spiraling tighter and tighter until I burst into pieces.
Drifting on a cloud of sensation, I felt him continue tasting me.
“Jaxin,” I moaned, helplessly trying to close my legs around his head as the sensations became too intense.
Boldly, I pushed against his head with my hand and clawed at the roughness of his skin.
One leg curled by instinct, my heel digging into the side of his back fin—abruptly, he raised his head, his eyes glinting at me, mouth shiny from my juices.
“Do that again, little one,” he demanded, so I obeyed, my foot stroking his fin.
He shuddered, eyes sliding shut and head tilting back.
Poised above me, I could see his cock jutting toward me between my thighs, too far away to pierce me, but so temptingly close.
Using my heel, I pushed against his fin again, up, urging him higher.
He moaned, and then, suddenly, it was too much.
I could feel his emotions pulse around me, then snap.
With rough hands, he pushed my legs wide, cupping my ass and yanking me across the sheets toward his waiting erection.
The head was soft but so warm, brushing through sensitive wetness and then shoving inside me in a rough stroke.
Firm, thick, but my muscles squeezed him tight, making him fight for each inch he wanted to push into me.
It stretched me, and I knew this was only the more flexible head.
He pushed me against him with his hands, forcing more of him into me, and I shook from the effort.
Only the slickness he’d already created eased the way, but it wasn’t long before he secreted that oily substance I recalled from last time.
It tingled, smoothed out the burn, and in he went a little more.
He had himself braced above me with his arms, and I discovered I’d curled my fingers into his biceps, nails biting into tough skin.
“You can take me, little one, my Dani. You can take more; you did it before.” I had, with much less preparation.
Last time, his invasion had been so fierce he’d bowled through all my physical resistance in a heartbeat.
I raised my eyes to his face, saw the possession and pleasure in his expression, and melted for him.
A few more pushes and his cock began to swell at the base, the lines along his shaft expanding like fins, rounded at the edges but hooking us together, sealing us in place.
I was so full, stuffed by him and by the way he still kept growing.
Then he rocked into me, lifting me by my hips to press me close, and I shuddered.
Pleasure radiated from each point of pressure until it all blurred together.
His tip shifted, pushed, pulsed, and the seal stretched me beyond my limits.
I came for him so hard and fast that it swept me away, tumbling me through a tide of pleasure.
It was only his arms and the deep, languid pressure of his locked cock that anchored me.
That point between my thighs, that’s where I was me, that’s where I began.
His hand slid under me, lifting me up until I found myself sitting in his lap, on his cock.
I felt him so deep then that I knew he’d left a permanent impression.
“Feel us,” he growled, and he pushed my hand between our entwined bodies to where his cock split me wide.
My folds opened around his turgid organ, thicker than my fingers could ever close around.
Wetness seeped out—mine and his—but no seed.
“You’re never going to forget this, Dani,” he warned, and he surged with his hips.
His base stayed locked in place, but it sent pressure through my flesh; his tip shifted, stroked me deep.
Then he lowered his head toward my shoulder, opened his maw wide, and bit down.
Pain and pleasure collided, his thrusts sending me into another orgasm.
I lost myself then, but it was okay because I reveled in the pleasure of him as he erupted with gush after gush of seed.
Primordial satisfaction, possessive claim, I felt how much he wanted to own me, make me belong to him.
But I didn’t have the words to tell him I was already all his.
Slowly, as the pleasure began to ebb and I settled back into my body, he lifted his head from my shoulder.
He’d bitten me—but not hard—just pinpricks in a line, front and back, where blood began to bead.
I was limp, exhausted, and held up only by his firm rod inside me and his hands on my back.
Rocking us, we tumbled until I was back on the bed, horizontal but still connected to him.
It would be a while before he’d be able to withdraw, and I wasn’t sure if the sleepy haze descending over my brain would allow me to stay awake that long.
I kind of relished the thought of being that connected to him as I slept.