Chapter Thirteen
Cian
SHE’S FIRE AND DREAMS. Touching her is like drowning in liquid grass, sweet and tender, and like I need another breath because of the flames. It’s crazy what she does to me—and I’ve got no idea how I’m going to send her away. Especially as I just told her I wouldn’t.
A pledge that slipped out, like I’m not a ruler who knows the value of each syllable and counts promises as sacred.
Ayala wraps her arms around my neck, pulling herself up and onto me. “Hurry.”
“Not quite what I had in mind, love,” I whisper. “Turn over.” I flip her willing form so she clutches onto the high back frame of the bed. With a simple touch, I spread her knees on the pillows.
She looks over her shoulder at me, a question furrowing her brow.
Trust, but it’s not complete. She’s canny that way, and wonderful. Smart, clever, and sweet. Daring and agreeable. She’s the culmination of opposites existing in some strange, perfect harmony: weak, but strong, so strong, she’ll bend rather than break.
Suddenly, I long to know all her secrets. What was her childhood like? Why did she become a baker? What are her dreams? Did I interrupt them?
Without conscious thought, I begin rubbing my cock through the crevice of her ass. I only become aware as she bleats. The doe-cry tightens my balls to nuts.
She’s got an ass made for pleasure, all bubbly and round. I squeeze both globes before dragging them together to make a cock and ass sandwich. So good. So sweet.
When she moans, my gut clenches and my seed spirals.
I thought to take this slow, work her up to a lather, but the way she angles back into me, maybe not. There’s a fire between us that isn’t purely physical. It’s an angry need inside my belly, and I think she feels it, too.
Lifting her off her knees, holding her aloft in my hands, I run my cock up to her clit. Over and over, I stroke the nubbin until her head lolls back and she gasps for breath. When her body begins to shake, I lift her higher and impale her in one long move.
Her cry is music.
I wrap my arms around her waist to hold her to me and piston my hips. She’s helpless in my arms, a toy to use and pleasure. Angling one hand, I rub her clit until she jerks. Her hands flutter wildly as she tries to grab onto me and finally settles for my arms.
“Come for me, love. Come now.”
Because my seed is rising so hard, so fast, I fear I’m going to come before her—and I can’t, I won’t—but it’s so close, my balls are vacuuming out.
My cock throbs. Pulses. Fuck, it feels so good.
This isn’t passion. It isn’t just fucking. I don’t know what it is, except in my head I hear and see the waves of the ocean rising higher and higher, racing to shore.
Her cunt answers by gripping me with her own rippled waves.
With my other hand, I tweak her nipple...
Her cry echoes around the room, dragging me the rest of the way into an explosion of bliss. My seed pumps and pumps, filling her, emptying me. And in some primal way, I feel complete.
Fuck sending her away. I’m going to seed her womb. I’m going to mate this woman.
She collapses, held aloft only by me. I crawl my way back until I can lay her down. I cover her before slipping her to the side so I can spoon her into me. But I don’t withdraw. It’s warm and wet inside her, silky and made to my measure.
I’m half-sleeping, exhausted from a hard run and strange news, when my lips find her neck. I latch on, sucking her flesh between my teeth before I bite down.
Blood against my teeth, my tongue, as she jerks in my arms. I suck deep before licking the wound. Her body begins trembling anew.
I’m still hard. She’s mewling and pressing her ass into me.
I begin to draw out and push in, taking care to angle so I brush over her pleasure spot on the inside wall of her passage.
In a long, slow, luxurious slide of skin against skin, slick with her arousal and my cum, I find more seed and shoot it into her.
Plugging her up as she comes apart on my cock.
I want a babe. I want her to have my baby.
I marked her. She’s my mate now. And it feels right, whatever happens.