Chapter 20
Carla
I want him.
I want him so badly that for a moment or two, I can’t form a coherent thought. I can’t string two sensible words together inside my own head. He’s standing in front of me, soaking wet, hard, his eyes on mine, asking me to stop this.
The thing is, we could die out here. That thought has been sitting in the back of my mind since the moment I realized just how many of those huge, feral Red males are in this jungle.
We might not make it back to Draig Island.
It’s possible, maybe even likely, that nobody comes, and we never see the other side of this.
And if that’s true, then I will die with some serious regrets.
One of them is standing right in front of me.
To hell with it.
I reach behind myself and unclasp my bra.
Magma growls low. It’s a sound that comes from somewhere deep in his chest, and it goes through me. His gorgeous green eyes drag down the length of me and back up. They’re lit up in a way I haven’t seen before, and the way he looks at me makes me feel like the most beautiful woman alive.
I let the bra fall at my feet.
His jaw tightens.
“I can’t be gentle,” he says. His voice is barely above a rasp.
“I don’t want gentle.” I hold his gaze. “I want that raw base sex you talked about earlier. The rough kind.” I don’t let myself look away. “I want you to have to carry me afterward, and it won’t be my feet that are hurting.”
Something moves across his expression. Something stripped back and enormous and not quite human.
I like it.
I want him.
I pull my underwear down and step out of them. I’m bare now, standing in front of him with nothing between me and the jungle and this enormous dragon shifter who is looking at me like he wants to take me apart.
His cock is huge. I knew this. But seeing him fully, hard and heavy, is something else. His cock is thick, flushed dark at the tip, the head broad and round. Even his balls look tight and heavy. Have I bitten off more than I can chew?
He swallows, and I watch his throat work with the effort of it.
“Can I come inside you?” he asks.
Holy crap!
I go wet when he says it. I feel this zing between my legs and a tightening at the base of my stomach.
“I get the contraceptive injection every two months,” I tell him. “And I was there just last month. It couldn’t have been three weeks ago, so I won’t—” I wave my hand, “you know. Get pregnant. And you’re a shifter, so STDs don’t apply.” My eyes widen. “Not that I have any kind of STD.”
He smiles.
“I think we’re good.” I swallow. “How do you want me?” I suddenly feel a little nervous. I’m not sure why, but I do.
His eyes go stormy, and his jaw tightens.
“Every which way I can get you,” he says, and his voice has dropped to something that vibrates at the bottom of my stomach. “But on your knees would be good. The ground is soft under those trees.” He nods his head in the general direction.
I start toward them.
“Carla.” My name is barely a sound on his lips. I stop and look back. “You need to be very quiet.” His eyes are serious. “I will have to stop, otherwise.”
“I will be.” I look at him steadily. My clit is still throbbing.
I go over to the trees and get down on all fours in the soft moss-covered earth. The ground is cool under my palms. He comes up behind me, and then his huge hands are on my hips. He has tattoos that wind up over his wrists and forearms, beautiful dark ink that covers his chest too.
“Your pussy is so wet for me.” His voice has gone rough in a different way now. Something awed in it. “I’ve never been with a human before, Carla. You are so soft and delicate.”
“I’m stronger than I look.”
“I have no doubt.”
He brings his thumb to my clit and starts moving it in slow, deliberate circles, and a sound escapes me before I can stop it.
“Carla.” I hear his smile in the way he says my name.
I turn back to look at him, and he is a very attractive man.
“Sorry.” I’m already rocking back into his hand. My breathing has gone to pieces, and he’s barely started. “It won’t happen again,” I tell him.
“It’s been a few years since I was with a female.” He keeps his voice low and easy, while his thumb continues its slow, ruinous circles.
I turn my head back to look at him over my shoulder. “Seriously?” I can’t quite pull off the casual tone I’m going for. “You must be ready to explode.”
“You have no fucking idea.”
He bends down between my parted thighs. His mouth finds me from behind, and everything narrows to what he is doing.
To the heat of it, the pressure, the slow drag of his tongue along my folds before he closes his mouth over my clit and sucks.
I drop down onto my elbows and press my face into the crook of my arm.
A sound wants to come out of me that is ragged and high-pitched, but I push it back.
Instead, it comes out small and wrecked against my own skin.
Then he uses his fingers and holy freaking shitballs.
One first, working into me slowly, and the stretch of it draws a sharp inhale through my nose.
He’s thorough and careful and maddeningly good at this, his mouth still moving on my clit while his finger finds the right angle and curls, and I am grinding against his hand.
He adds a second finger, and I grab a fistful of moss because I need to hold on to something.
He adds a third.
Oh god.
My eyes go wide.
I am trying so hard to be quiet. I am biting the inside of my cheek and pressing my mouth into my arm and doing everything a person can do to keep the sounds inside. They keep escaping anyway, these broken little exhales timed exactly to the pull of his hand, and I cannot stop them.
“I’m going to—” I manage, which is the most warning I can give him right now.
“Do it.” His mouth comes back to my clit.
My hand goes over my mouth. It sounds like I’m struggling to breathe.
My eyes are wide. My whole body tenses before letting go, and all at once.
My orgasm rips through me in a long, rushing wave that pulls all the way from the base of my spine outward, and my body clamps around his fingers in wave after wave.
I would have pitched forward except my other hand is still buried in the dirt, holding on.
He doesn’t stop. He keeps working me through it, his fingers moving, his mouth drawing out every last shudder until the whole thing has run its course and I’m trembling and slack and pressed into the earth.
Okay.
Wow!
He really knows what he’s doing.
I clamber back up onto all fours and look over my shoulder, sticking my ass in the air. His gaze is focused on my pussy. The desire I see there has me feeling all hot and bothered again.
Magma leans over me and puts his tip to my entrance. His eyes find mine.
I bite down on my lip as he starts rocking into me, and I forget about everything else. His abs flex with each movement. His eyes narrow and get all stormy.
He moves slowly in careful pushes that take my breath.
Magma goes a little deeper each time, and the sounds he makes are soft and low. They’re the sounds of someone trying to hold it together and not entirely managing it. He reaches forward and cups my breasts in both hands, his palms warm and rough, squeezing gently as he works his way into me.
“You’re so tight.” His voice is very quiet. “It has never been this damned tight before.” A pause, and his hips still. “Are you good?”
It stings. It does. But there’s something underneath the sting that makes me push back against him in answer, that makes my whole body say yes, more, keep going. I make a sound of agreement and press back into him.
He moves one hand around to my front and finds my clit, rubbing there in slow, slippery strokes while he pushes deeper, keeping me open and ready for him until he bottoms out completely, and I feel him everywhere. He’s impossibly deep, touching places I didn’t know existed.
He takes me by the hips.
Then he moves, and I am not prepared. I knew it would be a lot.
I did not know it would be this. He finds a rhythm and commits to it, deep and driving and relentless, and my breasts sway with each thrust, jerking forward and back, and the sounds our bodies make in the close green air under the trees are loud and wet, and I cannot think about anything except the feel of him and the fact that I need to stay quiet.
My eyes go wider than wide.
I am gasping. I am being stretched in ways I did not know were available to me, and every thrust pushes right up against the edge of too much without ever going over it, and I love it.
I love it so much it’s frightening. I’m gripping the moss like it will save me.
If he wasn’t anchoring me in place with his other hand, I would be face-first in the dirt.
He leans down over my back, his front pressing against me, and he gets his fingers back on my clit and works it fast and direct, and there is nothing subtle about any of this.
A few thrusts later I am tipping over the edge again.
The noise that wants out of me is high and unhinged, and I can’t stop it.
He clamps his hand over my mouth, pressing it there, holding me silent as my back bows and my eyes roll back as the second orgasm tears through me harder than the first. These long, rolling shudders that go on and on while he keeps strumming on my clit and driving into me, taking me higher instead of letting me come down.
I can smell myself on his fingers. It’s crazy, but even that turns me on.
His chest is sliding against my back with every thrust. His breath is against my hair.
Eventually the shudders stop being full-body and become something smaller. My grip on the dirt loosens a fraction.
He keeps going.
Then he’s jerking into me differently. He drives deep, in shaking thrusts, his rhythm breaking apart, and I feel heat as he comes, a rush of it deep inside me.
He grunts with each thrust, these short, bitten-off sounds he’s fighting to keep down.
He doesn’t stop straight away. He stays deep and works through it, grunting softly, keeping me there at the edge of something until the last of it moves through him, and he finally slows.
I am shuddering from the aftermath of my orgasm.
Magma pulls out and tips me gently onto my back, taking my thighs.
I stare up at him. “Again?”
He nods. I look down at him and am shocked to see that he is still fully erect.
Magma is on his haunches, still thick and flushed.
He lifts my legs and pushes into me again.
Then he holds my legs up and together, straight in the air against his chest. The difference is immediate.
With my legs closed, the friction is ramped up to something that makes my eyes cross.
Those loud and wet, rhythmic sounds are back in the hush of the jungle, and my breasts jerk back and forth with each drive of his hips.
I look up at him.
His jaw is set. His brow is pulled in deep, and there’s something fierce and entirely focused on his expression, like I’m the only thing in his field of vision. His eyes are dark now with lust and urgency. He looks like he’s angry.
“You feel so good.” It comes out low and bitten off. “So fucking good, Carla.”
Another orgasm is building. I can feel it gathering, right there, and I can hardly believe it.
He slows down. His thrusts get deeper instead, more deliberate, hitting differently now, and I grit my teeth against the sounds that want out. He opens me up so that he can rub the pad of his thumb over my clit a good couple of times.
My mouth drops open.
Just as I’m about to come, he stops and closes my legs again, even tighter against his chest.
There is barely room for him now. The pressure is enormous, that teetering edge of too tight and not enough, and I press my hand hard against my mouth as he keeps punching into me in short, deep strokes.
My back comes off the ground. My eyes roll.
The third orgasm takes me so hard that my whole body shakes with it.
It’s bigger than the last two, bigger than anything I’ve had before, and I am working with everything I have to keep from screaming into the jungle.
My free hand claws into the earth and I hold on while my body shakes itself apart.
Then he’s crunching a little over his middle. His abs pop. All his muscles bulge. He makes this soft but deep sound from right inside him as he starts to jerk. Once again, warmth floods me.
Each thrust takes me a little higher.
He grits his teeth, his hands closing a little tighter.
He keeps going until the shaking turns to tiny shudders. He slows, drawing everything out of me.
When he finally pulls out, he’s still thick. Not quite as hard as he was at the beginning but close. I look at him in shock because I am sure he could go again.
I, on the other hand, am not sure I have legs anymore.
He looks out at the trees. His expression has shifted. It has tightened. The tactical part of him is back, and I watch it slot back into place like a visor coming down.
Magma pulls out and gently lowers my legs.
“We’d better get cleaned up, and then we should go.” He is frowning. “We shouldn’t have stayed. We made too much noise.”
He gets to his feet and reaches down for me. I take his hand, and he pulls me up. He steadies me with one hand.
“Did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine.”
He looks at me, his eyes narrowing.
“I really am fine. I mean…” I pause. “I mean, I came three times.” A soft laugh escapes me, quiet enough that it doesn’t carry.
He gives me a strained smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Good. Let’s get you back in the water.” He lets my arm go.
His complete one-eighty is giving me whiplash. I understand why he is like this. I do. He’s trying to keep me safe. Trying to keep us from being killed, and what we just did could end up bringing a whole group of feral males this way.
It still stings a little. He was inside me not even a minute ago, and now it’s business as usual. Even worse, it feels like he doesn’t want to touch me at all or even look at me, for that matter.
“Okay.” I nod.
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting after we had sex.
All I know is that this isn’t it.
It’s probably better this way. It’s not like I have a future with Magma. That much has been clear from the start.
It was just sex. I’ve had a few hookups in my life.
I’m not a prude. I enjoy sex. I’m a young, modern woman.
I haven’t really wanted to be in a relationship before now.
I think of Flint and instantly regret it.
I do feel a pang of guilt. I push it down because I have nothing to feel bad about.
Flint and I aren’t together. What just happened will kill any kind of a relationship we might have had, but it is what it is; I’m okay with it. I don’t want to take it back.
I sigh as we walk to the water.
It’s all good. We needed to get that out of the way. Now we can focus on getting the hell out of here.