Chapter 40 The Hunger of Fear #2
Her intensity increased with each roll of her hips, her body pulsing as she slid hands down to grab at my ass and pull me in harder.
Breath ragged, I straightened enough to stare down at her, slack-jawed, drinking in the sight of her, stroking, then gripping her hips.
We moved together slowly, firmly, the table giving muffled thuds when my hips hit it too hard.
She was laid out before me like a feast. But I needed more.
Letting go of her and the table, I dragged my hands down her body hard enough to leave red marks in my wake—though Bren gasped and arched into the touch.
Then I teased the fingers of both hands up the insides of her thighs, planting hands inside her knees and gently pressing out, urging her to show me more.
She bit her lip and her breath hissed, but our eyes remained locked, and after that small hesitation, she let me press her knees wide.
Holy shit…
The sight of her, open and bare to me, watching her body embrace me… My breath shuddered and I fought for control.
I touched her again, fingers drawn lightly up her inner thighs, then back down, teasing at the hair there and along that heated skin, feeling her clench and pulse around me, watching her eyes roll back and her skin pebble under my touch.
It was a delicious vista, and one I prayed I’d have the chance to devour again and again.
Then I licked my thumb, grasped her hip with one hand and pulled her an inch closer to the edge of the table, laying the pad of my thumb against her, pressing and sliding in time with my thrusts.
She tightened immediately and one hand slapped down on the table, her fingers clawed. But she had no purchase on the slick surface, so she raised the other hand over her head and clamped it on the edge of the table, elbow bent back and arm tense for leverage.
Body bowed and open to my view, her breasts pressed towards the ceiling, jaw slack and eyes closed, she was a goddess.
And she was mine.
“God, Bren,” I croaked.
Unable to resist, I bent forward again, still holding her hip in one hand, using her leverage to give me some resistance, and thrust harder. Then I took that sweet, pink peak in my mouth again and sucked hard.
Bren cried out and arched, changing the angle on the next thrust so that I shuddered as I reached the limits within her and almost came.
We rocked together, faster and she began to pulse with each thrust.
Needing to see her again, I lifted my head, but slid the hand from her hip down, hooking it under her knee and lifting it, bending her leg, raising it to her chest, which changed our angle again. Her breath caught at the peak of each thrust, but rushed out again when I withdrew.
Clamping my free hand over the back edge of the table, I pinned her with my hips until she had no room, and picked up the pace.
The table, solid oak and heavy as rock, bumped and thudded. Bren writhed under me, her knee hooked over my elbow, her body stretched. She let go of the table and grabbed for my shoulder, her nails clawing into my back as I pressed her closer to that peak again, and again.
The pressure at the base of my spine grew with every joining, and my body threatened to betray me. But I pressed on.
Again.
The wave inside me gathered, curling but still building strength. I shuddered and curled my toes into the floor, praying for restraint, but drinking in the sight of her sprawled and shaking, her eyelids fluttering and—
“Donavyn… Donavyn—”
I felt her orgasm hit as she gripped me like a fist and though I tried to milk it, thrusting into that sweet squeeze sent me over the edge.
The wave of my pleasure crested. The sound of her cries as she sang my name tumbled me over its peak.
I crashed on the shore of her, moaning her name, the table legs thumping on the floor as we bucked and twitched together, bodies slick with sweat, clinging to each other until the wave washed out and we were left, spent and panting, in the warm sand of bliss.
I collapsed over her, bracing elbows in an attempt not to crush her. But she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me down harder until I finally relaxed, my nose buried in her hair, her body pinned under my weight.
“There’s no better feeling than being inside you,” I rasped.
“I waited for you all day,” she whispered, combing fingers through my hair and kissing my temple.
I lifted my head enough to meet her eyes, and stroked her hair back from her face just to see the flush in her cheeks and the bright pinpoints of light in her eyes.
I was rocked then, by the staggering truth of how precious she was to me, marveling at how we’d come from those first, frantic joinings, when she’d been so afraid, to this.
The bond sang in my chest, that cord golden and warm like the lantern light. And I could feel her—open and warm, aching for me as deeply as I ached for her.
And then my mind conjured the danger she was in.
The dragons. The fighting. The mission. The threat of war…
There wasn’t a moment in her day that didn’t threaten her. Threaten us.
All those fears, and the furious wrath that drove me to close hands on that fucking Ruin, crashed back in, trying to steal my heart from this precious moment with her, trying to pull me back into that rage and fear.
‘Kgosi?’ I reached for my dragon in desperation, clinging to Bren, pulling her up and into my chest as I stood without leaving her body, to carry her to the couch where we could curl up together.
‘The only path through fear is to face what frightens you, Donavyn.’
‘But… losing her…’
‘Either the Creator will protect you both, or He will not. But He chooses your days, your steps. Your choice is to walk hand in hand with Him, or to fight His power. You will not win,’ my dragon intoned.
As I sat us down and curled her into my chest, she nestled her face under my jaw, and her arms around my neck, clinging as tightly as I did. Did she fear as well? Or was it merely the lovemaking that opened her heart?
‘I have no desire to go to war with God,’ I growled to Kgosi. ‘I want to know how you stand it.’
‘Stand what?’
‘Stand knowing that the shape and substance of your heart walks alone in this dark world and could be taken from you at any moment.’
In truth, the chances of Kgosi losing Akhane were much smaller than mine of losing Bren.
But I’d long sensed that the dragons’ bonds and loves ran even deeper than ours.
That somehow they carried fewer barriers and wounds—or perhaps it was merely that their ancient natures made them wiser and better able to heal?
‘The joy, Donavyn. To fear steals the joy. I can meet each path in my day, reveling in my mate and sharing myself with her, and her with me. Or I can spend it battling fear and feeding my own cowardice.’
I would have huffed at the idea of Kgosi afraid, but I knew his heart, knew he loved deeply. He was the one who’d taught me that to love is to invite pain. But it’s also to experience the deepest beauty and joy that this world has to offer.
Clinging to Bren, I held her hard against my chest, wrapped her in my body and exhaled heavily against her hair.
“I’ve got you, Bren,” I whispered against her temple. “I have you, and I’ll remain. Whatever we face… we face it together.”
She nodded against my cheek, but I felt the quivering in her, the threat of tears. She felt this too.
“You’re mine. Given to me by God,” I breathed. “I’ll never let you go.”
Her grip on my neck tightened. “I love you so much, Donavyn. It’s scary.”
God, did I understand that. “I know. That’s why I’m telling you this. So you’ll never question it: I am yours. Forever. And you’re mine. Nothing can change that. Nothing.”
She nodded quickly again, but I heard her swallowing hard.
So, I held her more tightly. And then, I began to pray.