Chapter 17 Sheep Among Wolves
~ DONAVYN ~
I reared back, scrambling for control. She was so fucking beautiful.
Bren was seated on the edge of the bed, both knees wide and hooked over my very broad shoulders, her head thrown back, and hands buried in my hair.
She’d given up arguing, let go of her fear.
We all panicked a little when we got our first orders.
I’d seen it in her the moment she started ranting, and wouldn’t let me comfort her.
Her body was tense, her mind whirling with thoughts of the unknown.
Her training was intense, and the countdown to our departure had begun. She was tired and overwhelmed.
She needed to relax and let it all go for a time.
It had taken some time, but eventually I’d managed to shush her and convince her that what she needed was rest—then showed her how I proposed she do it.
And then, my stunning mate gave herself into my hands.
Now, if I wasn’t careful, I would lose control.
“Lay back,” I croaked, keeping one hand grasping her hip, while I pressed her shoulder back with the other. “I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.”
Eyes glazed, but shining, she let her body roll back as I tugged her ass off the edge of the bed, keeping her knees hooked over my shoulders and burying my face in the sweet heat of her.
She sucked in a breath and her lower back arched as I found the sweet spot, that tiny seam and flicked it with my tongue again, and again, gratified when her body twitched in time with my ministrations.
But I struggled for control, because I, too, was feeling the pressure of our impending departure. I’d been tense all day, apart from her, waiting for her to get back, frustrated when she was kept late in training.
I ached for her, even before she softened and opened herself to me. And now, with her writhing, those tiny cries breaking in her throat, and the taste of her on my tongue… God, this should be life.
I’d never been with a woman that drew me with the same intensity and fire of flying with my bonded dragon, unified in our minds, and purpose. But my mate—touching her, joining with her—I literally couldn’t get enough.
Unable to resist, I pressed into her flesh and sucked.
“Donavyn!” Her hips rose off the bed, braced on my shoulders, grounding me as she arched into my mouth and her body quivered on the edge of orgasm.
‘Come for me, Love.’
She made a small, stuttering noise, as if she wanted to reply. But then her fingers clawed into my scalp and then I was teasing, tasting the pulses of her, carrying her through surge after surge.
When her breath left her in a whoosh and her hips went slack, my leash broke.
Pushing her up the bed and sliding her legs down to circle my waist, I took myself in hand, positioning myself.
“Bren, look at me,” I rasped.
Her eyes flew open and widened, her pupils wide and dark with arousal—and they dilated further when I thrust into her in one, powerful plunge.
She shuddered and clenched, as I tipped forward to grip the quilt next to her head in a white-knuckled fist, and cupped her thigh with the other hand far too tightly, holding her to me as I powered into a relentless rhythm.
“Bren… fuck.”
She didn’t speak, but those whimpers began again, in time with my thrusts, and she hadn’t looked away. Our eyes locked and she reached for me, one hand curled around my forearm, the other at my neck, her mouth open and lower lip slack.
I pounded into her so hard my thighs slapped, and her eyelids fluttered.
“Oh, God,” she breathed.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You. More.”
Shit. Her eyes rolled back as I thrust with a groan, my toes digging into the quilts, and I had to bring my other hand up to fist the quilt, wrist braced at her shoulder to give myself some leverage.
“Hold on,” I rasped.
Bren’s grip on my arm and neck tightened, then her eyes rolled back as I picked up the pace, my breath breaking in grunts.
I should have been tender tonight. Should have soothed her and reassured her.
But I didn’t have it in me. The need drove me forward—and now that she lay in my arms, her skin flushed, lips curling up, and her body tightening on me as another orgasm loomed, I thought maybe that wasn’t what she’d needed either.
Sometimes the venting we needed wasn’t words. Sometimes it was to act.
Teeth gritted, praying for enough control to bring her to another climax, I called her name and a rush of delight and need washed through me.
Bren arched once more, her nails digging in as she cried out, again and again, gasping my name, until both of us collapsed in a tangle of limbs and sweaty hair, panting like we’d run for hours.
She clung to my neck with one arm, every exhale puffing against my neck as we lay there, catching our breaths.
Turning to nuzzle her jaw, I kissed that sweet, salty skin and told myself I should roll off of her. But she embraced me so tightly I thought perhaps there was time.
“God, I hope we make it through this,” she whispered.
“We will,” I murmured back, stroking her hair.
For a time we simply lay there, heartbeats slowing and breathing beginning to sync.
Then, when we did part, I kept her tight against my chest. Curled my body around hers and fell asleep with the scent of her hair in my nose.
And as her body finally relaxed and she slipped into sleep, I prayed for her.
Prayed for both of us. Because even though I wanted to fill her with confidence, though I believed she could excel at this, I was desperately aware that I feared for her as well.
Not her failure—mine. We had no time. No matter what tools we handed her in these last days, the truth was, she’d face this mission with little more than her survival instincts and the expectations of others playing in her favor.
In pure skills, she was a sheep among wolves. I just had to pray God saw fit to protect her from their sharp eyes. Because it wasn’t only her who went down if someone learned the truth.
And I’d follow her into hell before I’d leave her in their hands.
Duty, be damned.