Chapter 17 #2
“You are mine, Narai. Mine to breed,” I snarl against her lips.
I press in deeper, her tight heat fighting to accommodate my alien size.
“You were made for this. Made to take me. To carry my young.” I punctuate each word with a forceful, brutal thrust, stretching her impossibly wide.
My demanding kiss chokes off her cries, her body pinned helplessly beneath my much larger, stronger form.
My instincts scream at me to claim her, to breed her.
She gasps as I finally seat myself to the hilt.
I am buried inside her, deep as I can go.
The feel of her, hot and tight and slick around me, is a kind of heaven I have never known before her.
I stay there for a moment, letting her adjust and letting her feel the weight of me.
The sheer impossibility of our connection.
“You’re taking it, Keandra,” I breathe against her ear. “You’re taking all of me.”
A tear leaks from the corner of her eye. I lick it away. The taste is salt and surrender.
Then I begin to move.
Slowly at first. Long, deep strokes that pull almost all the way out before pushing back in, filling her each time. Each thrust is a claim. A brand. A reminder of who she belongs to.
“You’re going to take my cock, Sahri.” I growl.
“I can smell you want it.” Each word is a thrust. My hips slam against hers, forcing me deeper.
I watch her face, the way her brows furrow in a mix of pain and overwhelming pleasure, her lips parted on silent cries.
I want to own every expression. Every shudder.
I move faster. The rhythm of the camp outside fades away. The only sounds are the crackle of the fire, the harsh panting of our breath, and the slick slap of our bodies meeting.
My claws extend, pricking her skin where I grip her hips. Not enough to break the skin. Just enough to leave small, possessive marks. I want to see them tomorrow. Want her to feel them and remember this. Remember me.
I lean down, nipping at her throat with my fangs. “Mine,” I snarl against her skin. “All mine.”
Her hands come up to grip my shoulders. Holding on. Her nails dig into my skin, a sweet, sharp pain that only heightens my pleasure.
“That’s it, Narai,” I growl. “Take it. Take what I give you.”
She is close. I can feel it in the way her body tightens around me, in the desperate, breathless sounds she’s making. The scent of her arousal is thick in the air, a heady perfume that fuels the fire in my blood.
I shift, angling my hips just so, and a sharp cry tears from her throat. “Kaiven!”
“Sha,” I command, my voice a low, dominant rumble. “Sha for me, Keandra. Now.”
She shatters.
Her back arches. A choked sob escapes her lips. Her body convulses around me, a series of tight, rhythmic spasms that milk me, pulling me deeper, demanding more.
The sight of her, lost in pleasure, undone by me, is too much. My control snaps. I thrust into her once, twice, three more times, hard and deep, and then I follow her over the edge.
A roar rips from my chest as I spill into her. Hot. Thick. Possessive. I am breeding her. Marking her from the inside out. Making her irrevocably, undeniably mine.
I collapse over her, careful not to crush her with my weight, burying my face in the crook of her neck. Both of us are breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat. I can feel the frantic race of her pulse against my lips.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. The fire pops and crackles, casting long shadows across the furs. The world slowly comes back into focus.
I am still inside her. Still hard. The instinct to take her again, to claim her once more, is a low hum beneath my skin. But I push it down. I have made my point. I have claimed her. For now.
I push myself up on my elbows, looking down at her.
Her eyes are closed, her face flushed, her lips swollen from my kisses.
She looks… wrecked. Beautifully, thoroughly wrecked.
And she is covered in my marks—the faint red lines from my claws on her hips, and the marks where I gripped her thighs to hold her open.
A surge of primal satisfaction goes through me.
She opens her eyes then, and the look in them is not fear. It’s something much more complicated. Something that looks a lot like awe. And belonging.
I reach out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead. The gesture is surprisingly gentle. A stark contrast to the brutal way I just took her.
“Vel,” I say, the word a possessive rumble in my chest. “Veli.” Beloved.
I don’t pull out. Not yet. I stay buried inside her, a heavy, undeniable presence, a physical reminder of what has just passed between us.
Keandra swallows, her throat moving. “I…” She starts, then stops, her breath hitching as I shift inside her. A fresh wave of arousal, weaker this time, but still there, scents the air.
I feel a smile touch my lips. “Again, Narai?” I murmur, a challenge and a promise in one.
She doesn’t answer. Just closes her eyes, a faint, exhausted smile of her own playing on her lips.
I will have her again before the night is over. But for now, this is enough. This quiet moment in the firelight, with my scent all over her and my seed warming her from the inside.
I lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.
She is mine. And I will never let her go.