Chapter 16 Sable #2
"More. All of you. I can take it." I couldn't, but fuck, I wanted it so bad. I was hovering on the edge, and we hadn’t even started yet.
Something feral flashed in his eyes. "You sure?"
"Yes."
He seated himself fully with one smooth thrust, and I came apart.
The orgasm didn’t so much as blindside me as consume me whole. It wasn’t the slow build I'd expected, but a sudden, shattering release that ripped a scream from my throat. My body clenched around him, and he cursed, his forehead dropping to mine, his chest heaving.
"Fuck." The word was reverent. Wrecked. "Sable. You feel—"
I rolled my hips experimentally, and we both groaned. "I feel it, too."
For a moment, neither of us moved. Just breathed together, foreheads pressed close, his cock buried so deep inside me I could feel him everywhere.
"This isn't just fucking," he murmured, his voice almost branded into my skin. "Not for me. You understand that, right?"
My heart cracked wide open. "I know."
"I need you to know what this means. The bond. The mark. If we do this…" His eyes were almost pained as they met mine. "I won’t be able to let you go."
I cupped his face in my hands, making him look at me. "I know what this means. I know what I'm choosing. And I choose you, Harkan."
Something like awe glimmered in his eyes. Then he started to move.
Slow at first. Deep, rolling thrusts that hit something inside me that made my vision white out. His hands gripped my hips, angling me to take him deeper, and every stroke sent pleasure spiraling through my veins.
"More," I gasped. "Harder."
He gave me what I asked for.
The gentle rhythm shattered into something primal.
He drove into me with abandon, the headboard cracking against the wall, the obscene sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, my nails scoring his back, my teeth finding his shoulder to muffle the screams building in my throat.
"Don't hold back," he growled. "I want to hear you. I want everyone in this fucking stronghold to know who's making you scream."
The possessive control in his voice pushed me over the edge.
I came with a wail, my body clenching around him so hard he cursed, his rhythm faltering. But he didn't stop. Didn't slow. Just fucked me through the orgasm and into another, and another, until I was sobbing his name like a prayer.
"One more." His voice was ragged, his control hanging by a thread. "Give me one more, and I'll come with you."
"I can't—"
"You can." His fingers found my clit, rubbing in tight circles. "Come for me, Sable. Now."
I shattered.
The pleasure was blinding. Devastating. He followed me into oblivion, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled inside me with a roar that shook the walls. His teeth found my throat, and he hesitated—a question pressed into my skin.
"Yes," I gasped, not even sure what I was agreeing to, only knowing that I needed it, needed him, needed to be claimed in a way that no one could ever undo. "Do it. Make me yours."
His fangs sank into the curve of my neck, and the world went white.
Pain and pleasure twisted together into something transcendent, something that rewrote my very bones.
The bond between us flared—not the tentative thread it had been before, but a rope, a chain, an unbreakable tether that bound us soul to soul.
His heartbeat thundered through my veins.
His pleasure crashed into mine, doubling it, tripling it, until I couldn't tell where I ended and he began.
He groaned against my throat, tongue laving the wound even as his hips stuttered through the last pulses of his release. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were wild, his mouth stained with my blood, and he looked at me like I'd just handed him the entire universe.
"Mine," he rasped. "Completely. Irrevocably. Mine."
I touched the mark on my neck—already healing, already scarring into something permanent—and smiled.
"Yours."
He rolled to the side, pulling me with him, keeping us joined as the aftershocks rippled through us both, a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs and heaving breath.
"Are you okay?" His voice was hoarse. His hand traced gentle circles on my back, avoiding my bandaged shoulder with careful precision. "Did I hurt you?"
I laughed—a breathless, broken sound. "You just gave me more orgasms than I've had in the last decade combined. I'm better than okay."
"That's a tragedy." He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "We'll have to make up for lost time."
Warmth spread through my chest. Not just from the sex—though that had been earth-shattering—but from the tenderness beneath it. The way he held me like I was precious. The way he'd waited for my permission, even when we were both desperate for each other.
This wasn't just desire. This was something deeper. Something that terrified me as much as it thrilled me.
"Harkan?"
"Mm?"
"Thank you." The words came out softer than I intended. "For... for asking. For waiting. For letting me choose."
His arms tightened around me. "You never have to thank me for that. You deserve to be chosen, Sable. Every single time."
I buried my face in his chest, not trusting my voice. His heartbeat was steady beneath my ear—strong and sure and alive.
We lay there in silence for a long moment, just breathing together. But I couldn't quite silence the worry gnawing at the edges of my contentment.
"The mole," I murmured eventually. "Whoever planted that bomb..."
"Cara's handling it." His voice was firm, brooking no argument. "She'll find them."
"And if it's Aldric?"
A growl rumbled through his chest. "Then I'll deal with him personally."
"Harkan..."
"Not tonight." He tilted my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Tonight, you're safe. You're here. You're mine. Everything else can wait until morning."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to point out that Varro's threat was real, that the Mating Moon was in four days, that we were running out of time to prepare. Wanted to remind him that I had the power to find out who planted that bomb, who betrayed him.
But his hand was tracing lazy patterns on my hip, and his body was warm against mine, and for the first time in too many years, I felt truly, completely safe.
"Yours," I agreed softly.
His smile was slow and satisfied. "Say it again."
"Yours."
He kissed me—soft and sweet and full of promise. "Get some sleep, little witch. Tomorrow, we plan for war."
"And tonight?"
"Tonight, you're safe." He pulled me closer, tucking my head beneath his chin. "I've got you."
I closed my eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull me toward sleep.
But even as I drifted off, Varro's words echoed in the back of my mind.
The High Alpha gets what he wants. He always does.
Not this time, I thought fiercely. Not this fucking time.