No Rush #3
“To learn what you like. So should I need to punish you in the future…” His lips captured my brazier and the peaked nipple beneath.
I let my head fall back and moaned at the sensation.
“I’ll know what to withhold.” Completely on top of me, his nose danced around the tip of mine, the scent of me—his most recent meal—fresh on his lips and beard.
“I’d heard the Hive would be full of cruelty,” I murmured against his cheek.
“I’m sure you did.” He raised himself onto his knees and removed his dress shirt. The discarded garment slid underneath a desk on the other side of the room.
Rhazien was beautiful. The curves of his seasoned and scarred muscles told stories of a sordid history. His build was strong, sturdy. The build of a laborer frozen in time and dressed as a royal.
My eyes dropped down as the buttons of his pants popped open, the fabric giving way to the hard length of him underneath.
Impatience overwhelmed me. I reached for him but his hand caught my wrist. He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “I told you. There’s no rush.”
I fell back onto the soft cushioning of the enormous bed. “I’m beginning to think you’re just a tease.”
“Oh no, Reyva.” He lowered his chest to mine. “I plan on having you. Again and again. If you’ll have me.”
“Only if you’ll let me finish,” I responded in a challenging whisper.
Rhazien silenced me with a consuming kiss. His hands were everywhere at once. They tore at the straps of my brazier. They pulled my hair loose from their pins. They scooped me up, positioning me perfectly for the long-awaited entry.
His piercing stare captured mine, and he held me still as he carefully pushed his way inside me. I gripped his hips and arched as he descended further and further. My eyes rolled back and my lips parted, my gasp swallowed by his claiming mouth.
The regent held me there, savoring that first moment of connection. “Say you’re mine,” he whispered, nipping at my bottom lip between commands.
I obliged immediately, consumed by the feeling of his length reaching the sacred depths of me. “I’m yours.”
The next movement came faster and our rhythm built naturally to meet our needs. I gripped his back, encouraging him. Our breaths and moans intertwined between hungry kisses.
His touch, and the pleasure it ignited, drove out every inch of dark nothingness the phantom had planted from its gaze. The sensation blossomed in the depths of my core between each thrust and threatened to consume me whole.
Sharp fangs traced my skin but Rhazien refrained, and the blood within me pleaded for him to reconsider.
I curled underneath him, his girth stroking the most sensitive parts of me, expanding the embers of pleasure into an inferno I thought would swallow us both.
I confessed to him I was close. He declared how amazing it felt to be inside me. I pleaded with him not to stop. He commanded me to finish for him.
Pleasure ripped through both of us as we came together. Our passion so loud, I expected the whole of the Hive to have been witness to it.
My throbbing nerves pulsed around him as we lay breathless together. I smiled, stroked his hair, and felt utterly content in that moment.
Feeling the weight of his body on top of mine held my bliss and I welcomed it.
After a minute of rest and silent admiration, he withdrew himself, the seed he’d poured into me onto the sheets.
Rhazien rolled to his back and pulled me into his side. I draped a heavy leg between his and he kissed my forehead like we’d been lifelong lovers.
His hand pulled my loose and wild hair away from my neck and stroked the skin with his index finger. “That was difficult.”
I scoffed, “It didn’t feel difficult to me.”
His fingers stroked the column of my bare neck again. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“Oh,” I sighed, curious enough to want to know more but not energized enough to move from my comfortable nest.
“I meant that required a great deal of restraint. To not bite you.”
I expected to feel that creeping sense of fear that would slither down my spine every time talk of being fed on was brought up, but it didn’t come. Quite the opposite. The blood leapt, pressing beneath my skin, calling to him.
Maybe it was the looming haze of pleasure that made the conversation feel completely normal, or maybe it was that I was high on his blood. Whatever the source of my comfort and confidence, I asked, “Is that common? To feed during sex?”
Almost too eagerly, he responded, “Oh, yes. It heightens the connection.”
There it was. Delayed, but present. The icy grip of fear as I considered sharp fangs sinking into flesh. “I…I don’t think I’m ready.” I tried not to recoil, but I was sure he noticed how I tensed beneath his arm.
He pulled me into him again and kissed my temple as he explained, “No. No. Of course. I wasn’t suggesting anything.”
The mixture of subsiding pleasure and his comforting touch tamed the fear and put me entirely at ease.
“There are other things we need to talk about,” I grumbled lazily.
“You’re right. You’re right.” He kissed my forehead again. “But for now, just rest.”
I let my thoughts drift away in the enticing prospect of sleep. His caress encouraged me to relax into him and my body happily complied.
Safe. I felt safe here.