Chapter 16 #2
“What are you talking about?” he asked before nudging open my legs with his knee.
Either way, I needed to make up my mind quick. I wasn’t going to last long in this erotic position.
“You know, hand stuff.” I panted. “Mouth stuff.”
In my defense, it was hard to speak eloquently while Kyre’s tongue flicked at my earlobe.
He chuckled softly against my ear.
“I don’t know how you define things in your world, my love,” he purred. “But that’s still considered lovemaking here in the Wilds.”
Maybe he was right, but I was no longer in the mood to debate technicalities. Not after what he’d just said.
“What did you call me?” I asked, trying to turn around in his arms—but he held me fast, refusing to let me move an inch.
“My love,” he repeated. “It’s a common endearment. Do you not like it?”
“No, no.” I tossed my head back and forth. “I actually love it.”
“Good,” he said before bringing his knee up between my legs and pressing it against the wet spot that pooled in the middle of my jeans.
Damn it. I should have made up my mind faster. Because the second I felt that sublime pressure, I was lost.
“Oh God, Kyre.”
I melted into the sensation, my legs going weak. But Kyre had no trouble supporting my weight. His hands braced me against the wall as I rocked my hips back and forth against the thick plane of his thigh.
The friction was sent shivers of pleasure through my body. One after the other, each wave building on the next, until they’d grown so large that my legs shook with the strain of movement.
When little sounds of pleasure started escaping from my throat, I bit into my lip, trying to hold them back. But that didn’t last long.
Especially not when Kyre’s raspy growl sounded against my ear.
“You don’t have to be quiet,” he said. “Shout if you want to. No one can hear you.”
That was a foreign concept to me.
In a place like LA, there was no such thing as privacy. Not really. Walls were thin and neighbors nosey. Between doorbell cameras and cellphone tracking, it was easy to get used to the idea that there was always someone watching. Someone listening. Someone judging.
But not here in the Wilds.
Not in this house.
Not with Kyre.
So with the next slide of my hips, I let out a long, deep moan. Then another. And another.
Soon I was writhing in his arms, bucking my hips, and crying out his name. Again and again, until it echoed through the whole house.
And when I came, it was with a ferocity I didn’t know was possible. Back arched, eyes closed, and every inch of me trembling, I exploded into a million shimmering stars.
It wasn’t until seconds later, when I floated back down from heaven, that I realized that the legs of my jeans were drenched. Not just a single damp spot, but soaked through.
Damn, I’d gushed like Niagara Falls.
And Kyre didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he was into it.
With an animalistic growl, he let go of my hands and wrapped his fingers around the waist of my jeans. With careful precision, he extended his claws. The tips bit through the fabric with ease.
Then, just as he said, he would, he ripped the fabric away, sliding his hands down my legs and letting the wet denim fall to the floor.
Then before I could fully process what had just happened, he wrapped his arms around my thighs and lifted me up…and up, until my legs were hooked over his shoulders.
Head buried between my legs, he started out of the entryway, moving deeper into the house. If it were anyone else, I would have been worried about crashing into a wall or knocking my head against a doorway, but not with Kyre.
From the first moment, it was clear he knew every inch of this house.
And besides, I was more than a little distracted as his tongue found my clit and masterfully lapped against it. With the heavenly way it felt, he could have walked off a cliff, and I wouldn’t have noticed.
But it didn’t take him long to move from the front of the house to the back, where a much larger bedroom than the one in his tiny cabin waited.
I held my breath, waiting for him to toss me through the air like he did in all my other dreams, but apparently that moment was going to have to wait. Because instead of a hard landing, he slowly lowered me down until my back was flat against the mattress, my legs dangling off the edge.
I frowned a little as he pulled off his jacket and tossed it across the room.
Damn. I’d wanted to do that.
But any disappointment I felt quickly faded when he started stripping off the rest of his clothes.
I was tempted to pinch myself as his chest and hips and legs, all the parts that I had seen and felt so vividly in fantasy, were suddenly revealed.
Desperate to touch his body in earnest, I tried to push myself up on the bed, but Kyre easily knocked me back down with a flick of his wrist.
“You’ll get your turn later,” he growled, causing a new rush of wetness to dampen my inner thighs. “I’ve been waiting for this for too long. Right now, you’re mine.”
Still standing, he wrapped his hands around my hips and lifted me up. This time, so that I could curl my legs around his waist.
Throwing my arms around his neck, I held on tight, gasping for breath in sweet anticipation as with aching slowness he lowered me down onto his shaft.
Oh God!
I couldn’t tell if I just thought the words or screamed them out loud. All I knew was that my whole world caught fire the second I felt him stretching me wide.
My fingertips curled into his shoulders. My legs shook. My head fell back.
It was too much. The fullness. The intensity. The pleasure. All of it.
There was no way a person could process this much sensation. This level of ecstasy could make a soul shatter.
But somehow mine managed to hold together as Kyre buried his entire length inside me.
But then he started to move.
Slowly, at first. His hands drew me back. Then down again.
Every time a little faster. A little harder.
And that’s when I truly lost control.
I cried out again and again, not fully aware of what sounds I was making.
Dear God, Kyre was right. My tongue was no longer my own. Neither was my head nor my heart nor any other part of my body. In his arms, I belonged to the pleasure he gave.
I was his and his alone.
Where my first orgasm with him had been explosive, this next one was soul-shattering. Stronger and harder and deeper than I ever knew was possible.
And then there was another.
And another…
And another….
Until not even Kyre could endure anymore.
His knees buckled as he sank down to the mattress. His arms tightened around me.
He was close.
So close.
Even if he hadn’t been growling like a wild beast, I still would have been able to tell from the ravenous look in his eyes.
My brain might have been drunk with pleasure and seriously exhausted, but my last working brain cell still managed to ring the warning bells when it caught the first flash of sharpened fangs beneath his lips.
Nope.
As life-changing as this lay was, I still wasn’t sold on this whole biting business.
Whipping my arm out to the side, I grabbed one of the pillows that had tumbled around us at some point. With a quick “sorry,” I shoved in front of his face, just as he started to spin me around.
In the next heartbeat, I heard the fabric rip and felt the tickle of a thousand feathers as they flew through the air.
There was no time for relief, though. Not when his hands gripped tight around my hips and thrust me down one last time around the base of his shaft.
Beneath me, Kyre, shook and pulsed as he flooded me with warmth. Then, before I could catch my breath, a new kind of pressure started to build just inside my walls.
When I gasped at the new sensation, Kyre wrapped his arms around my chest and pulled me close.
“Relax,” he rumbled against my ear. “You’re okay. It’s my knot. It will bind us together for a while.”
I had no real idea what he was talking about, but strangely, I didn’t care.
The truth was, I trusted him.
It didn’t make any sense, and I wasn’t sure why, but right now, listening to that instinct just felt right.
Especially, when he pulled me down against him on the bed and laughed softly in my ear—the first happy sound that I’d ever heard coming from his lips.
“That was some quick thinking with the pillow,” he said.
“Thanks. I guess I owe you a new one.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Sophia.” His hand came up to stroke my hair.
Man, that felt good—soft and soothing, the gentle rhythm lulling me back to sleep.
“Will your twisty bit last all night?” I asked with a yawn.
“My knot,” he corrected me with another chuckle. “And I doubt it.”
What a shame, I thought as my eyelids drifted down. Like a few things here in the Wilds, it was nicer than I could have imagined.
Strangely comforting even.
Maybe even better than home.