Chapter 17 #2
With a wild growl, he falls to his knees in front of me and pulls my panties off. My balance is thrown off as he lifts one of my legs and drapes my thigh over his shoulder, but his arms are there, keeping me from falling as always.
His tongue presses against my clit and I cry out. Pleasure shakes me as my head falls back and I knot my fingers in his hair. His mouth devours me, demanding and unyielding.
I’m already so slick and turned on. The fever taking over me makes my thoughts hazy, and I’m glad we talked about sex before this hit, because I’d do anything for him right now. I want him so much that he consumes every single brain cell, and I’m in a stupor of lust.
He works two fingers inside me as his tongue keeps working my clit. He rubs against this spot inside me that has me writhing and drives me wild. There’s this pressure building that I’ve never felt before, almost like I need to pee but it’s not that. It’s different.
If we were mated, our minds would be linked. I’d be able to know what’s going on in his head and he’d know what was in mine. Usually if fated mates find each other, they mark each other immediately and then fall in love after. It’s always lust first.
But we can’t mark each other.
He’s my mate. Fuck, why does he have to be my mate? I want him to mark me. I want him to claim—
My back arches as a wave of pleasure throttles me.
I choke out a moan as my muscles freeze, his tongue driving inside me as I quiver and come.
Hot liquid bursts from me and splashes on his chin, dripping down his neck and chest. He growls against my pussy and drags his tongue over me, licking it all up.
I just squirted, I realize. I’ve never done that before, and I’m caught between a bit of embarrassment and exhilaration.
“I’m sorry,” I pant. “I didn’t know that was going to happen—”
Sylvan shocks me as he pushes me onto my knees, bending me over the stairs. The fabric of my dress rips as he tears it from my body, his palm pushing my knees apart.
When I glance over my shoulder at him, his eyes are illuminated and I can see his lust. It’s etched into the lines of his face, his bulging muscles as he hurriedly unbuttons his pants.
“Like this?” I ask breathlessly.
“Like this,” he agrees, covering my body with his. His cock slaps against my ass cheek as he leans down, turning my head just enough so I can kiss him. I taste myself on his tongue, and that satisfies the possessive part of me that demands he be mine and mine alone.
His cock slides against my pussy and he trails kisses down my spine. His hands slide over my hips, holding them in place as he leans back and adjusts himself. His scent washes over me and my eyes close.
It’s the first time I truly wish we were marked by each other.
“Morgan,” he whispers. “Fuuuuck. I need to breed this pussy.”
Fuck, I mouth. His words make my skin buzz. The head of his cock nudges me again and he thrusts forward without warning, filling me completely, all the way to his knot. My voice echoes through the house as he fucks me with brutal strokes, never giving me a moment’s rest.
I fucking love it. His cock is hitting the deepest parts of me, stretching me around him, molding my pussy to the shape of him. My eyes squeeze shut and tears leak out of the corners as I sob his name over and over.
“That’s right,” he growls. “Keep saying my name, baby. You’re taking me so well. I’ve been waiting weeks to feel you around my cock again. Dreaming about tasting you every single night. You haunt me, little witch. I know you can do magic, because I’m under your spell.”
“I can’t,” I whimper.
His lips press the most tender kisses against my spine as his cock spears me. His hands slide forward and around my belly, holding me in a way that makes me feel vulnerable but turned on.
“You’re so soft,” he rasps. “You’re so fucking perfect for me. It’s torture.”
I smile as his grip on me tightens. My breasts swing as he fucks me harder. His pelvis presses against my ass, the sounds he makes driving me crazy.
I’m going to come again, I realize.
We don’t stand a chance against this sort of frenzy. It just feels too good, too right.
He playfully bites my shoulder right near the spot he could take. He could do it now, and I wouldn’t stop him. I’d welcome it. There’s this craving, this need inside me for that mated mark, and not having it feels wrong and unfair.
His hand slips lower and he finds my clit, rubbing quick circles as he pounds me relentlessly into the stairs. I cry out, sweat covering my skin as he uses me and pleases me.
“Sylvan,” I whimper.
“I know,” he pants. “Come for me. I know you’re close. I can feel you squeezing my cock like a vice. Come on me.”
“Command me,” I beg. “I want to feel it.”
A growl ripples from him, and I know he likes it even though asking him to command me could be crossing a line. I’m an omega and he’s an alpha, and the last time he commanded me was in crisis.
But this is different.
I want to know what happens if he commands that I come for him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I moan. “I want to feel it. Please. Please.”
He sucks in a breath, his movements doubling in effort. “Morgan, come for me.”