Chapter 12 #3
Surprise flickered in his eyes. Then he pushed back to sit on his heels again. One hand braced on my thigh, his other hand went to his cock, stroking slowly from root to tip, showing me what he liked.
I watched, mesmerized, as he pleasured himself.
His fist tight around his length, thumb circling the broad head on each upstroke.
A bead of moisture gathered at the tip and rolled down the side, his breath growing ragged.
Seeing this powerful male touch himself, knowing it was because of me, sent another surge of desire through me—like I hadn't just had the most intense orgasm of my life mere minutes ago.
It made me feel desired, whole, overriding my deepest insecurities.
I sat up, pushing his hand away so I could replace it with my own.
He was hot and hard in my fist, skin like velvet over steel.
I stroked him tentatively at first, then with more confidence when he groaned his pleasure, his head falling back and his hips lifting into my touch.
The power shift thrilled me, but he still held the reins, his hand covering mine briefly to guide the pace.
"Talin," he growled my name like a warning, his control fraying at the edges.
But I wanted more. Wanted to feel him inside me. To know what it was like to be filled by him. Claimed by him.
I released his cock and lay back, holding his gaze as I opened my legs. Inviting him in, even as my heart raced and I swallowed down my fear.
His nostrils flared, breath coming faster. Hungrier. But he didn't rush—always in control.
"Are you sure?" he rasped, his voice tight with restraint.
I nodded, my throat thick with emotion. "I need to feel you."
His large body covered mine again, his weight pressing me into the mattress in a way that felt protective, possessive. The head of his cock nudged my entrance, hot and insistent, and I tensed, the reality crashing in. This would hurt. I knew it. But I wanted it anyway.
His eyes held mine as he pushed inside, just the barest inch, before withdrawing slightly and pushing in again.
A little further this time. Then again, each slow thrust taking him deeper, controlled and measured.
A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, and his large body trembled above me as his mouth opened on a hiss, his fangs growing longer before my eyes.
I gasped at the intrusion, the sensation of being filled and stretched almost too much.
There was pain—a burning, stinging sensation that made me tense beneath him, my nails digging into his shoulders as tears welled again.
My body resisted at first, the stretch unfamiliar and sharp, making me wonder if I could take it.
Fear gripped me, and I tried to breathe through it.
Elias must have seen the discomfort on my face because he stilled, his body tense above mine, every muscle coiled with the effort of holding back.
"Am I hurting you?" he asked, voice tight, his dark eyes searching mine with concern laced with hunger.
"A little," I admitted, my voice breaking on the words. "But don't stop. Please."
He shook his head, jaw clenched. "I don't want to hurt you, little witch. Not like this."
"It's okay," I whispered, lifting my hips despite the burn, taking him a little deeper. We both groaned at the sensation. "It's good. I promise. I need this. With you."
He searched my face, looking for the truth. Whatever he saw there made him narrow his eyes, and he raised his wrist to his mouth and bit down before offering it to me. "Drink."
I'd taken his blood before, but I'd been so out of it the thought still made me recoil even as my mouth watered for just one sip.
"Drink," he repeated.
With the tip of my tongue, I took the smallest taste, and the world exploded around me.
Heat unfurled through my veins like liquid fire, every beat of my heart echoing with his.
His blood was dark, forbidden, and achingly sweet, and it sent pleasure spiraling through me that was so intense my entire body shuddered.
The pain eased, morphing into something bearable, then pleasurable, as warmth spread, healing the sting and amplifying every sensation.
Gods, I was burning in the best possible way, the raw edge of pain transforming into a deep, throbbing need.
Keeping his wrist at my mouth, he began to move again. Slowly. Carefully. His body trembling with the effort it took him to control himself.
The pain continued to fade as my body adjusted to his, his blood healing what he'd torn, turning the discomfort into a building pleasure that made me gasp.
I wanted him. Wanted more. I lifted my hips again, meeting his thrusts, taking him deeper, that initial hurt giving way to something euphoric, real and profound.
"Fuck, Talin," he growled, his voice rough with restraint. "You feel so damn good."
I could only moan in response as I wrapped one hand around his wrist so he wouldn't take it away and dug my fingers into his side with the other.
The feel of his cock and his blood inside me.
.. I couldn't think. Couldn't say anything if I wanted to.
I could only feel. The raw connection, the way he filled me not just physically but emotionally, chasing away the shadows I'd carried for so long.
His pace increased, each thrust going deeper, still controlled but building in intensity.
He was everywhere. In me. Around me. His scent in my lungs, his taste on my tongue.
I was drowning in him, the pleasure overtaking the last remnants of pain, turning it all into bliss. And I never wanted to come up for air.
Suddenly, he rolled us, pulling me on top of him so I was straddling his hips. I lost his wrist as we did, but I couldn't complain. The new position took him even deeper, and I cried out at the sensation, the fullness now purely pleasurable, sending waves of ecstasy through me.
"Ride me," he commanded, hands gripping my hips firmly, guiding me. "Take what you need, beautiful. I don't want to hurt you. I need you to control this part."
I braced my hands on his chest, nails digging into the hard muscle there. Then I began to move, lifting and lowering myself on his cock, finding a rhythm that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through me with every downstroke.
Elias's hands roamed my body, sliding up my ribcage to cup my breast. His thumb brushed over my nipple, sending another shockwave through me. I leaned into his touch, grinding down on him harder. Faster. The pleasure built, erasing any lingering ache. I couldn't think straight. I could only feel.
"That's it," he growled, his eyes dark with approval. "Fuck, you're gorgeous like this. Taking what you need. Using me for your pleasure."
His words sent a thrill through me. I'd never felt sexy before. Never felt wanted like this. But the way Elias looked at me, the things he said... I believed him. It was emotional and messy, tearing down walls I'd built for years.
Tension coiled low in my belly. The desperate need for release. I chased the high, riding him harder. Taking him deeper. His hands were on my hips again, guiding my movements with firm control, helping me find the angle that sent stars exploding behind my eyes with every thrust.
I felt it, then. The power building inside me. Not just the pleasure, but something deeper. Something more. The threads.
Suddenly they were everywhere. Wrapping around us, binding us together. Silver and gold and every color in between, pulsing with magic and life and need.
I could see them all, feel them all, like they were a part of me. Like he was a part of me. And brightest of all, the silver thread that connected the two of us.
And I knew, in that moment, that I could have it all. Have him. Have this. Have the power and the pleasure and the life I'd always wanted but never thought I could have.
All I had to do was reach out and take it.
So I did.
I grabbed onto our thread, holding it tight in my mental fist. And pulled.
Elias roared beneath me, his body bucking and his fangs bared as he came, his release triggering my own. The threads pulsed brighter, wrapping around us, cocooning us in a web of magic and lust and... love. Or what would be love.
Because that's what this was. What it had always been, from the moment I first saw him. The moment I first felt him.
And as I collapsed onto his chest, his arms wrapping around me, his heart pounding hard against mine, I knew.
I was his. And he was mine.
Forever.
"Mine," he growled against my hair.
"Yours," I agreed, too overwhelmed to say anything else, my voice raw from the emotions still crashing through me.
He growled in agreement.
"Stay," I whispered. "Stay here tonight."
"Little witch," he murmured, his hold tightening possessively, "I'm never leaving."