Chapter 15
Jesamin
To finally touch him, without reservation…it was like the first frantic fumblings of youth, when there is no pretense, no finesse, only unspent passion and wild need.
We threw ourselves at each other, colliding so hard I nearly sliced my lip open as I kissed him hungrily. I crawled into his lap, and straddling his thighs was like straddling a barrel, the fiend’s body dwarfing mine.
His lips, black and soft against his snowy fur, caressed my mouth. He was careful with his fangs, his hands fumbling at the oversized shirt I wore, skimming down to trace the contours of my shoulders and spine and trembling against me.
“Damn it all, I have wanted this from the moment I saw you,” he whispered, his lips leaving a burning path over my jaw before returning to my mouth. His tongue flicked out, warm and textured like fine sandpaper, and flicked against my lower lip, encouraging me to open to him.
I ran my fingers through his mane, luxuriating in the silkiness of his hair, letting my hands wander down the broad edges of his jaw and the strong, heavy lines of his shoulders, all the places I’d dreamed of touching.
My nails grazed through the fine down covering his skin, over the hard muscles of his chest and stomach, and a heat I hadn’t felt in months burst through me at the sensation of a massive cock hardening against my exposed core.
He was like a force of nature, untamed and feral, all contained in the body between my legs—and yet he withheld the savagery pumping through his blood, his claws grazing my flesh without rending it.
A low growl reverberated from him, echoing in my chest as he gripped my hips and pulled me closer, tighter, rubbing me against the iron-hard bulge, and I remembered that he was a fiend, and he could smell every aspect of my arousal.
“And now you know how much I want you,” I gasped against his lips, wanting to feel that thick shaft inside me, my core clamping down around nothing in anticipation. I moaned with need, my hips rolling again over the hard length.
Wroth’s growls of pleasure deepened, and, with shaking hands, he slid the shirt from my shoulders so it puddled around me.
I had never been touched like this before: tentative, eager, even worshipful.
He touched me like a gift, his fingertips somehow shy and bold at once, tracing my collarbones, gliding down over my breasts to cup them, thumbs teasing my nipples until they were painfully hard points; then down to my waist.
My fingers were trembling as I tugged the lacing on his breeches open, and Wroth arched his hips, using one hand to yank them down without dislodging me from his lap.
I sucked in a breath at the sight of his cock.
He was different from a human man, the crown thicker and broader, and near the base was a hard, swollen bulge.
Instinctively, I knew how he would fit inside me: that swollen knot would bind us together, keeping his girth locked inside me until he had milked every last drop of his seed deep inside.
I shuddered with anticipation at the thought, already wet and eager, but Wroth’s hands stilled.
There was a gleam in his eyes, the flat shine of panic and rejection, and I understood that he had mistaken my shudder for…for horror.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I hissed, cupping his face and kissing him hard enough to leave blood on his fangs. “I want you. You are mine.”
With a tentativeness that made my heart ache, his hands returned to my hips, and his tongue flicked out to catch the drop of blood clinging to his incisor.
That terrible look in his eyes faded, replaced by hunger and lust.
I leaned forward, trapping his cock between our stomachs, feeling it pulse and jump against me, radiating heat. His breath hitched, a groan cut short.
I shifted on my knees, climbing further until I straddled his cock, cradling it against my wet pussy so he could feel me.
Wroth’s muscles flexed under my hands as I moved my hips in a slow motion, the soft, aching wetness gliding over the length of his shaft.
“I want you, understand? Everything you are. You, Wroth.”
I had not understood him when I first met him, but my feelings had grown almost against my will, sliding into companionship, to admiration, and now…now I saw in him everything I craved, bravery and strength and honor.
He was who I would choose, if I had a choice in the matter.
And because I did not, I would take what he offered, and give as much as I could in return.
I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, offering myself in total surrender.
Warm lips kissed my chin, my jaw, and moved down to my throat. The rasp of his tongue against my pulse point, where my heartbeat pulsed furiously like a trapped bird, made me gasp and press against him.
Wroth’s arms tightened around me, the heavy knot in his cock throbbing against my clit and sending waves of frantic desire through my nerves.
In Wroth’s arms, locked away from the world, I felt safe and content for the first time in my life. It was not a sensation I could have found with anyone else; I knew, deep in my bones, that Wroth would keep me safe, and wouldn’t hurt me despite his eagerness.
He was everything I wanted, the kind of man who might hide his better self, but still put himself aside to help others; the kind of man who stood fast against all that was terrible in the world, even if it meant others would think terrible things of him.
It was almost unfair that these qualities were to be found in him, and not in a man I could fully claim as my own.
His tongue skimmed my throat, and he cupped my head, gently raising it until he was kissing my mouth again.
“Do you…not want my blood?” I asked, breathless. His kisses were soft, edged with barely-restrained hunger, and I wondered…was something wrong with me?
But Wroth’s hand moved to my lower back, pushing against me so I had no choice but to feel the aching need of his cock against me. “I want you, too, more than I can say,” he growled softly. “And if I drink from you now, I might never stop.”
The world shifted, and suddenly I was on the bedroll, pressed into the blanket with Wroth arched over me, dwarfing me with his immensity.
“But I will take everything else,” he rumbled, “and make it mine.”
I wrapped my legs around his hips, eager to feel him open me, but Wroth had more patience than I.
He nuzzled my throat, then the soft rasp of his tongue moved down to trace my collarbones, dipping to the hollow between my breasts.
I shivered, moaning as he laved the hard nubs of my nipples, tongue following the contours of my breasts down to my stomach, and then his hands were inexorably pushing my legs apart.
With a start, I registered what he intended, but Wroth put a hand on my lower belly and pinned me to the ground.
“Stay,” he snarled, and the slightest hint of pain sang through me—his fangs brushing against my slick folds.
His tongue skimmed over me once, twice, teasing away the pain and sending a quiver through my legs.
And then he plunged in, groaning as he fucked me with his tongue, devouring me until I was gasping and quivering.
He withdrew, skimming over my clit until I reached down to grip his horns.
Wroth let out a breathless laugh, teasing me with another swirl around the sensitive bundle of nerves before thrusting his tongue back into me.
He no longer held me pinned, now that I was thoroughly vanquished by his lips and tongue alone, and I gripped his horns until my knuckles ached, my hips riding up to meet his mouth.
The pleasure built in waves, crashing through my veins, making my blood absolutely hum. And when he drew his tongue up in a long, smooth stroke, I tugged with all my strength.
Wroth chuckled at my sad attempt to maneuver a fiend, but he obeyed, rising up to kneel between my legs. He looked down at my pussy, spread before him, glistening with saliva and my own oils, and gently pressed his thumb against my clit.
“Every part of you is so beautiful,” he said, almost contemplative, but I could see the raging lust under the surface, the loss of control approaching. He fisted his cock, a pearly bead dewing at the thick head.
I swallowed hard, having gone past eager, and into desperate. Frantic need railed at my core. “Please. Please.”
“I can’t tie you to me,” he said, his pupils dilated as he looked at me. “Not now.”
“Do what you need,” I whispered, wriggling with need. “I want to watch you come.”
My heart skipped a beat when he fit himself against my entrance, a tiny flare of trepidation at the size of him. But as he pushed, my wet core flexing to accommodate the first inch, spreading me apart, I realized I could do it.
And he filled every iota of space, prying me open for him, slowly…his hand resting on my belly, his thumb pressed to my clit. He circled it gently, reassuring me.
Until he exhaled, and I felt his self-control vanish with the sound. He looked at me for a single second that felt like an eternity, his eyes asking the question.
“Yes,” I demanded.
He thrust hard, filling me with one brutal stroke, his snarl filling the air like thunder.
I convulsed, my body taking almost the full thickness of him, the tight pressure and the grip of his thumb on my clit overwhelming. His swollen knot stopped him from fully entering; he drew out, then plunged back in, hammering into my needy, eager body.
I felt my grip of cohesion shatter, a wave of total obliteration crashing through me.
Somewhere I heard myself crying out, screaming, writhing against him as he drove into me, my pussy clenched with the force of the orgasm that tore me apart.
Wroth held back a roar, his growls clicking and dying out, and with one more deep, heavy thrust there was a hot flood within my core. His breaths were heavy and rapid, lips drawn back to expose his teeth in a snarl.
He started to pull out, but I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips, locking him inside me.