Chapter 8 #2
Gods, I’ve missed that sound. I switch to the other breast, suckling hard while rolling her moistened nipple between my fingers the way she used to love. Still loves, based on her throaty mewls and her hips rocking against me, seeking pressure.
Her warm, welcoming scent fills my nose. Wedged between us, my cock pulses. She slides one hand downward, my body instinctively shifting backward enough to allow her access.
I groan around her nipple as her fingers grip my cock, the pad of her thumb sweeping back and forth over my weeping tip.
“I forgot how big you are,” she says, pumping me as much as the limited space permits. “But I remember the first time you got me ready to take you.”
I relinquish her glorious nipple with a loud pop, pinching it just firmly enough to make her whimper with pleasure while meeting her eyes. “As do I, Catherine. Tell me, will I need to prepare you now?”
Her tongue slides along her lower lip, her hand stilling but not releasing me. “Yes. I need you to get me ready.”
That only means she hasn’t been with someone my size recently, not that she hasn’t had nonhuman partners since I’ve been gone. My ego—and heart—take it as a victory nonetheless.
She gasps as I scoop her off her feet. Arms twined at the back of my neck, she nuzzles and kisses my neck for the few strides it takes to reach the nearest banquette.
The playful laugh I remember so well leaves her smiling lips when I lay her on the gray upholstery, part her thighs and pull them onto my shoulders after settling between her legs.
“I still live in the apartment down the hall. The bed would be more comfortable, especially for you.”
“Comfort is not my priority.”
Again, she laughs. “Mine either.”
Lowering my face, I breathe her in, letting her irresistible scent infiltrate my senses. Urges I haven’t had since our last time together roar to life, like a starved beast waking after yearslong hibernation.
Propped on her elbows, she watches me tease the outer part of her silky pussy with my mouth. “I always loved the feel of your tusks against my skin.”
“I remember,” I say, dragging each one in turn along her sensitive middle crease firmly enough to part the flesh.
Bottom to top, finishing each pass by rocking the tusk tooth against her clit enough to make her breathing shallower and her hips tilt higher.
A bit more pressure and I could make her come this way.
But not this time. Not after being without her so fucking long.
Her eyelids flutter closed as I capture her clit between my lips and suck. “God, I’d forgotten how good this feels.” She hums erotically as I slide a finger inside her, then again when I replace one finger with two. “And that.”
Possessiveness I suppressed during our years together rises from the depths, and this time, I don’t push it down. Pleasuring her, satisfying her, should be my duty, my honor, and mine alone. Denying our bond and relinquishing my commitment were na?ve and selfish mistakes.
She moans as I slide three fingers inside her while playing her clit with my tongue. Faster, firmer, a rhythm as instinctual as breathing.
“More, give me more.”
Looking up her body at her beautiful face, I tuck my thumb against my palm and ease my hand into her slick, tight cunt.
Her erotic groan fills the room and her back arches off the banquette. Panting, legs shaking, she rocks against the invasion, drawing my hand deeper. She cries out, gripping my hair and riding my face from beneath.
Even when she releases me, I stay where I belong, soothing her sensitive flesh with soft licks until her eyes open and meet mine. “You’re still so fucking beautiful when you come.”
“And you’re still so fucking good at making me come.” She reaches down and tenderly traces my brow, then my cheekbone, then my lips and tusks. “Am I ready enough?”
“You are.” Sandwiched between my body and the banquette, my cock throbs nearly to the point of aching.
“Thank god.”
“Was the stretching too much? If I hurt you or—”
Leaning forward, she presses two fingers against my lips. “You didn’t. I loved it. I’m just impatient to feel you inside me again.”
I press a kiss to the inside of each satiny soft thigh, then taking a seated position on the banquette and guide her to straddle my hips.
“You don’t want to mount me from behind so you can get deeper?” She, too, has not forgotten our intimate inclinations.
“Not this time.”
Her flaxen hair falls forward as she lowers her face. “You don’t want to trigger a rut with me.”
It takes effort not to flip her onto her hands and knees and mount her, show her how wrong she is.
Instead, I slide my fingers through her hair, using the grip to tilt her head back so our gazes meet.
“You are the only person I wish to rut, Catherine. Then, now, or ever. But now, after far too much time without you, I want to look into your eyes while you take me.”
Her eyes grow glassy, then she leans in and kisses me. Softly. Slowly.
I groan as her tongue traces the outline of one tusk, then trails along my lower lip and up my other tusk. It had never crossed my mind they could be erogenous until Cate entered my life.
Gripping her hips, I slide her back and forth along my cock. By the second pass, she’s in control, grinding her clit against my shaft, her fingernails digging into my chest, her warm breath mixing with mine through choppy, desperate kisses.
“Harder,” she says against my lips when I cup her breast and pluck the nipple between two fingers, and when I give her what she wants, she writhes and jerks, head thrown back, moaning my name as she comes.
That’s the end of my control. I lift her enough to position the head of my cock at her entrance. “Take me home, Cate.”
“Grüsh.” Her whisper is as soft as the delicate fingers on my shoulders. Her grip tightens as she lowers, taking my cock one torturously slow inch at a time. “How much more is there?”
“Half.”
“Don’t look so smug about it.” The comment fuels my smile to increase, and in response, she laughs lightly, shaking her head. “I know I can take all of you, but my body doesn’t seem to remember as eagerly as my brain.”
“We’re in no rush.”
“Speak for yourself.” She laughs again, this one mixing with a throaty moan as she descends another inch.
I can’t resist glancing down. Watching her body welcome mine always flipped a switch inside me, and that hasn’t changed.
The urge to grip her hips and fill her completely thunders like a heavy storm, but I grit my teeth and hold back, returning my focus to her face.
“Almost there,” I say as I massage her clit with my thumb.
Nodding, she lowers the remaining inches, panting when I’m fully seated in her tight cunt. “Fuck me like you used to.”
Buried inside her, I shift our position. Being on top allows me to slide deeper. Being deeper spurs me to rut, to claim. But she hasn’t agreed to be mine again.
How could she when you haven’t told her that’s what you want, my inner voice chides.
Not telling her now, while she’ll think it’s sex talk.
“So fucking beautiful.” One hand on her hip and my other on her clit, I slide in and out, in and out, falling into our rhythm naturally, as if we haven’t been apart for years. Because she’s mine, and I am hers. I was a fool to think our connection was anything less.
“You’re holding back,” she says, placing her hand over my heart. “Don’t.”
“It’s been a long time for me. If I let go, I’m not going to last.”
“I don’t need you to fuck me for a long time, I just need you to be with me fully when you do.”
“I’m with you. Fully.” Dropping to my elbows, I cradle her head between my hands and thrust deeper. Harder. Faster.
Each stroke elicits a gasped exhalation, followed by a throaty moan as I grind and rock against her clit.
Claim. Cherish. Submit. The words roar in my head. Not the adamant inner voice. These are rutting words. Mating words.
“Grüsh.” Writhing and panting, her cunt clenches around my cock as she comes.
With a gravelly moan, I follow her over, rutting her hard and deep and relentlessly as I pump her full of my cum.
“God, god…” she cries out, her nails digging into my butt, holding me deep in her tight cunt as she bucks against me through another climax that milks more cum from my instinctually thrusting cock.
Her moans and cries and panted breaths give way to a soft laugh and whispered “wow” as her muscles go pliant, triggering my rut to end.
I slip from her spent body, her breath catching when I’ve withdrawn completely. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, but we sure made a mess on the upholstery.”
The sight of my cum oozing from her pussy pulls a proud hum from deep in my chest. And stirs my cock to thicken and rise.
“I remember that sound.” Smiling up at me, her hair moves like golden waves as she shakes her head. “You might be ready to go again, but my body is out of practice and needs some recovery time.”
Meaning she doesn’t want this to have been a one more for old time’s sake fuck. A good sign. Still, something is on her mind. Her tells haven’t changed in the years I’ve been away.
“I would never place expectations on you, if that is what’s causing your lips to twitch and the creases to deepen between your eyebrows.”
She huffs a small laugh. “Being six years older than the last time you saw me is why the creases have deepened.”
I am not the only one who uses deflection to avoid giving a truthful answer. I know her as well as I know myself, and pushing her to reveal her thoughts could result in the opposite. “You are as beautiful now as the day we met, Cate.”
“Thank you. And thank you for not holding back with me.”
“I know now that holding back with you is not possible.” The bench seat isn’t wide enough to lie beside her, so I gather her into my arms and settle her on my lap. “I regret that it took me so long to understand and welcome that truth.”
Her hand stills its soft ministrations along my ear, emotions swirling in her eyes as she looks into my eyes. But she doesn’t question the meaning of my statements. She simply waits.
If this is to go further, the next step has to be mine. A beat goes by, but the inner voice that hasn’t relented in my time away remains silent. No urging, no advice.
Because I no longer need to hear it.