Ivy
I've never seen Hound, which is what I’ve decided to call him since I’m interacting with him more, standing in my cottage before.
To keep his head from hitting the ceiling, he has to hunch severely.
Green fur and sharp teeth are on display.
The claws on his hands are doubled in size.
I crane my neck to look him in the eye. Conall is still there.
I can see it. But something deeply primal has been layered over the man. A beast of raw, feral, intent.
He moves suddenly and I step back. My legs hit the edge of the bed and I sit hard on the corner of the mattress.
His knees hit the floor with a double thump, bringing his massive body to the space between my legs.
His wide torso slides in, spreading me open.
His clawed hands trail up my thighs and under the hem of my tank top, shoving it up to bare my torso.
He leans in, nuzzling into my exposed stomach while the claws of his thumbs tease the soft underside of my breasts.
The sharp coolness of them sends hot shivers racing up my spine. I can barely pull in a shaky breath.
Hound’s nose drags back and forth across my skin until his tongue flicks out, warm, wide, and rough against my cool flesh. I tremble. My hands slide into the soft fur between his ears.
Without thinking, I tug him closer, urging him on.
He growls low and dangerous. His tongue trails from my stomach down to the edge of my shorts.
His hands grip my hips. He slides a thick finger into each side and tugs.
The material tears under his claws with a sharp rip.
I gasp and look down to find my shorts shredded away from my body.
“I liked those,” I say breathily.
You’ll like this more. Hound’s growling voice rolls through my mind, so deep it makes my toes curl and my pussy clench.
His hands smooth back down my thighs to my knees.
His grip is firm as he pushes my legs wider, and I let him.
He looks down. Those inhuman wolf eyes go dark and hungry at the sight of my soaked sex.
I know I’m dripping for him. My pussy aches with the need to be filled by this beast. I don’t care how fucked up that is.
I clench around nothing, desperate for him.
His huge hand presses against my chest, easing me back until I lie flat, legs spread wide and hanging off the side of the mattress.
Are you sure, little human? Hound asks. His voice in my thoughts is thick and rough.
“Please,” I beg, and then it hits me. “Unless Conall doesn't—” I cut off with a choked moan.
His tongue strokes slowly from my entrance up through my soaked folds, dragging over every slick inch before circling my swollen clit. His heavy hand comes down on my stomach, pinning me firmly to the sheets.
Relax, Freckles. The voice is softer now, pure Conall, warm and low like he’s trying to soothe me even while the beast between my legs ruins me. But my body is on fire.
Hound’s thick tongue drags down again and then thrusts inside me like a cock.
I moan loudly up at the ceiling, the sound raw and broken.
He’s so thick and long, filling me. The rough texture of his tongue scrapes along every sensitive nerve, dragging against my inner walls in a way that makes my toes curl and my breath hitch.
I can feel his hot saliva mixed with my own slick dripping steadily down between my cheeks, soaking the edge of the mattress beneath me. I push my heel harder against his broad back and fist the sheets tight in both hands, silently begging him not to stop, needing him deeper, needing more.
His tongue fucks me harder, faster, plunging in and out with wet, obscene sounds that fill the room.
His wide nose grinds relentlessly against my swollen clit with every deep thrust, sending sparks shooting through my belly.
The wet heat of his mouth devours my pussy completely.
His tongue drags over every perfect spot inside me.
Heat coils tighter and tighter in my core.
"I'm going to—uh—" Electric waves crash through me as I come hard all over Hound's tongue and face. He doesn't stop, licking and thrusting through every pulse and tremble while I babble and curse, until the pleasure finally ebbs and I collapse against the bed.
I breathe heavily. Faint popping and movement tell me Conall's done being sidelined by Hound. The lips that kiss my inner thigh are now very much human.
"Ivy," he breathes, and the desperation in his voice cuts through me.
All of the want and pull and the steady ways I've been falling for Conall swirl together with the trauma and trust issues and heartbreak from my ex until tears prick behind my eyes and I have to cover my face to hide the embarrassment.
"Ivy," Conall says again, voice laced with worry this time. The bed shifts on my right side and I feel his fingers brush my arm gently. "Ivy, Jesus, did I hurt you?"
I shake my head and turn to my side into the dip in the bed, curling my legs toward my center so that I'm not hanging half off.
I breathe steadily trying to calm myself down.
His fingers skim my hair, pushing it back to uncover my hands, still over my face.
His touch is so careful compared to Hound's feral need just a few moments ago.
The contrast makes my knees shake and my center slick again.
"You were so beautiful coming apart,” he says. “Let me help you Ivy, please."
I take a deep breath and when I push it out I feel like I'm exhaling all of the negative feedback from Mark, my broken expectations, and from my trust issues. It all blows away on that sigh. I slowly drop my hands from my face, letting him see me.
Conall's eyes search mine, open and concerned.
"Sorry," I whisper. Even though I'm not quite sure why. Being a hot mess seems like a good enough reason.
He doesn't hesitate as he reaches forward and pulls me into him. One arm wrapping around my waist, big hand moving solidly up and down my spine in perfect, grounding touch. The other hand sweeps under my head to replace my pillow and curls so that his fingertips can move through my hair.
"Never apologize. I need you to cry when you need to cry, and to trust that I can handle it. That I want it. I want you to lean on me. Because every time you do, I know you trust me."
I nod and move closer, burying my face in his chest and tangling my legs with his. We've woken up like this before, but this is different because this is a choice by both of us.
"I've got you, Freckles," he says, tucking his chin over my head. "I promise."