Chapter 8
Sol
I have waited centuries for this moment.
Part of me even feels like it isn’t real.
But if this—her choosing me with her lips on mine, her arms wrapped around me, whispering how much she wants me—is all a dream?
Then I’d beg anyone, sell my soul to the darkest of gods and creatures, so that I may never wake.
Her green eyes are dark and dilated, breath coming in short gasps as her pulse races—exactly where I long to sink my fangs into her neck—igniting something primal within me.
I want her. To claim her, sink into her. Rut her like the animal she has turned me into. But only after I worship her, cherish her, until every fiber in her being is mine and mine alone.
I grip her hips and force myself to sheath my claws before I shred the fabric shielding her body from mine. Her scent, her heady arousal, floods my senses, making my cock throb. Pre-come leaks from my tip, slicking the head, and I can no longer stop myself. I crush my lips to hers.
She moans when I kiss her, and the sound vibrates through my entire being.
The taste of her is divine. I’d never kissed or been with another, but I know it could never be like this with anyone else.
She is all I want, all I need. And although I am unsure of myself, I will learn what she likes by the sounds she makes, by the way she says my name, by her screams and cries for me.
I won’t stop until I’ve learned each and every way I can please her.
I deepen the kiss as the need for her builds within me. When her lips part, I lick between them. And when she lets me, I plunge my tongue into her mouth.
Her moan mixes with her breath against my lips and I pull her closer, squeeze her back. Her fingers tangle in my hair, making me growl low in my throat.
I lift her easily, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her into the living room. Gently, I lower her onto the sofa near the fireplace, then kneel between her thighs.
Even kneeling, I'm taller than her, and there's a predatory satisfaction that brims through my chest when she looks up at me.
Her eyes are wide, skin flushed from her cheeks down to the top of my shirt, and I've never seen anything more beautiful in all my life. The world’s best sculptors and artisans could never capture how glorious she is like this, breathless, wanton, needing me—a beast unworthy of the goddess before him.
“Sol,” she whispers, reaching for me.
I catch her hand and kiss her palm. “Let me look at you,” I murmur against her skin. “Let me worship you.”
Her breath hitches, but she nods, leaning back against the cushions. I claim her lips again and again as I undo each button of my shirt, reveling in the feel of her skin against mine.
I suck and nibble her lips, bury my hand in her fiery red hair. Each kiss consumes me until I'm drowning in her, marveling over the soft curves of her body.
Her skin is like silk beneath my fingers, and I can’t resist tracing every inch. My palms glide over her chest, feeling the way it rises and falls with each breath. I cup her breast and groan at how perfectly it fits in my hand.
She arches slightly, pressing herself into my touch, and I take the invitation, rolling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. She gasps, her fingers tightening in my hair, and I can feel the heat of her desire against my stomach.
Breaking the kiss, I trail my lips down her jaw, nipping gently at her neck. Her pulse beats frantically beneath my mouth. "You're mine,” I half murmur, half growl. “Every breath, every sound, every inch of your body and soul is mine."
“Sol,” she whimpers.
I suck at her skin, pleased when I leave a small red mark. I want them all over her body, to brand her with my touch. My tongue traces her skin, moving lower, until I can nip at the swell of her breast. Her fingers tangle in my hair, urging me closer, until I rip her bra off.
She gasps as I take her nipple into my mouth. Her back bends further as I suck it, swirling my tongue around the hard peak.
Her hands move to my shoulders, gripping tightly, and I hum in satisfaction. She’s so responsive, so eager. It drives me wild.
I switch to her other breast, giving it the same attention, and her moans grow louder, more desperate.
My hand slides down her side, over the curve of her hip, then back up, hooking her panties with my claw. "May I?"
“Please,” she pleads, her voice breathless, trembling.
I shred the material and throw the scraps to the ground.
Then, I scan her body, taking in every freckle and mole, the stretch marks on her luscious belly and thick thighs are like a map to her beautiful cunt I long to taste.
Every inch of her is beautiful. The stars in the sky could never be as wondrous as a single spot on her skin.
Her flush deepens and she looks away from me.
Gently, I cup her cheek, drawing her gaze once more, but when she meets my eyes, there's a hint of nervousness, embarrassment even.
I recall what she said in the hallway about her weight, and how she looked when she found out I knew about her past. This—being naked in front of me—triggers her insecurities and brings back the wounds people gave her, wounds she's been forced to heal alone.
My heart aches and burns for her, but now isn't the time for my sadness or anger.
"You don't know, do you?” I run my fingers through her hair. "How beautiful you are?” I kiss her forehead, the tip of her nose. “How perfect you are?"
Her smile softens, breath hitching and for a moment she bites her lip, and when she meets my eyes they're filled with such astonishing sadness that it cuts through me. "I... I've tried but I still..." She swallows. "No... No, I don't."
There's so much I want to say to her. But as she sits here, with her head slightly bowed, hair shielding her face, shoulders trembling just slightly, I realize that right now, what she needs from me is action, proof. And I will give that to her.
I cup her chin, and tilt her head up, forcing her to meet my eyes. "Would you let me show you? Show you everything I think of you, everything you do to me?"
She nods and I crush my lips to hers.
I kiss her deeper, more passionately, pouring every ounce of my desire and need for her into the kiss so she knows without a shadow of a doubt how much I want her, that I'm attracted to her, enamored by her, in love with everything that she is.
My tongue slips into her mouth, and I groan as she opens for me, allows me to explore her.
Her soft whimpers and pants spur me on. I want to see the moment her mind shuts down and her body takes over.
To hear her cry out for me, say my name, scream it.
To watch her shatter for me, and come on my fingers, my tongue, my cock.
I cup her breasts once more, brush my thumbs over her hard nipples. She gasps, moaning against my lips, and I swallow the sound.
Sienna's fingers curl into my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin, and I hiss at the pain and pleasure it gives me.
“Does it feel good, my precious dawn?” I murmur against her lips, pulling back just enough to look at her.
Her whole body is red now, her lips swollen from our kisses, her eyes heavy, filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability.
She nods. “Yes.”
I grin. "Focus on that then. Focus on the pleasure only I can make you feel." My fangs scrape over her skin as I kiss the curve of her collarbone, pausing to flick my tongue over a freckle on her shoulder and I feel the shiver that coasts down her spine.
“You’re so soft,” I whisper, my voice low, rough. “So warm. So perfect.”
Goosebumps flush over her body as I lick my way down to her nipple.
When I suck it into my mouth, she arches off the couch again.
Her hands tighten in my hair, and I hum in satisfaction.
The vibration makes her cry out, and I do it once more.
I swirl my tongue around her nipple, nibble and bite it while I squeeze her other breast. Then I move to her other breast, showing it the same affection, while teasing her wet nipple with my fingers.
Her moans grow louder, more desperate.
I look up at her, the way her head is tilted back against the couch, eyes closed, lips parted. “You’re beautiful,” I say, my voice deep and husky. “Every part of you.”
I squeeze her thighs and her eyes drift open, with the smallest hint of nervousness.
"Open up for me, Sienna. Let me please you. I want to make you come."
She bites her lip but relaxes back into the couch. I spread her legs, cup the back of her knees, and pull her hips forward slightly. She gasps, moaning as I brush my fingers over her glistening cunt.
"You're already so wet for me, Sienna," I whisper, sliding my fingers from her pussy to her clit.
When I caress it, her hips slide forward involuntarily, seeking me out, and I growl in approval.
I rub the small nub slowly, watching her face as she pants. Her hands ball into fists as if she doesn't know what to do with them, so I kiss one and place it on my arm, then rub her faster.
Her hips buck in time with my movements, as she holds onto me, squeezing me for dear life. Her moans grow louder, higher in pitch, each sound making my cock twitch in my pants.
The need to be inside her is almost overwhelming, but this? Watching her lose herself to the pleasure I'm giving her? It's potent, addictive, and I know once will not be enough. I need to watch her come at least five—no, perhaps seven times—before I bury myself inside her.
“Sol,” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders.
"That's it, my precious dawn. Use me for your pleasure, tell me what you want." I latch onto her nipple, and she cries out.
"Please... I need—"
I slide my fingers lower, slipping one inside her and revel in the long moan that escapes her lips.
"Is this what you need?" I growl, sucking on her nipple, fingering her soaking wet cunt.
"Yes, yes!"
She bucks underneath me while I rub her clit and slide my finger in and out of her. Her cries urge me on.