Chapter Forty-Nine #2
“Use your words, or I stop,” he threatens.
I gasp, my body desperate for him, for more.
“Yes,” I pant. “Yes. I am wet for you.”
His fingers thrust deep.
“That’s my girl,” he croons seductively.
Kael flips me onto my stomach in one fluid motion, his hands firm on my hips, his breath hot against the back of my neck.
“Hands and knees, Elyssara,” he commands.
I obey without thought, arching my back, offering myself to him. A slow, satisfied hum rumbles from his chest.
“Fucking perfect,” he purrs.
His fingers slide into me again, two this time, pressing deep, working me open with unhurried precision. He’s watching me, I can feel it, and the thought of his gaze locked on my pussy makes me wetter.
“You’re soaking for me,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up my spine, teeth grazing the sensitive spot at my nape.
“You want my cock, don’t you?” His fingers curl inside me, hitting that devastating spot again, and I gasp, nodding frantically.
He stills.
“Use your words, Duskae,” he demands.
I whimper, rolling my hips against his hand, desperate for more friction, more of him.
“I want your cock, Kael. I need it. Please—”
He lets out a low, vicious groan. “Beg me again.”
He withdraws his fingers, leaving me empty, aching.
“Kael,” I gasp, turning my head to look at him over my shoulder. “I need you. Now.”
His restraint snaps. Quickly removing his pants, and leaving his vest in place, urgent, hungry for me.
Kael stands before me, his cock hard, dripping with moisture already, broad shoulders rising and falling with measured breaths.
I swallow thickly at the enormous sight of him. I rise onto my knees, my hands move to his leathers, fingers skimming the edges of his vest, ready to strip him bare. But before I can pull the ties loose, he catches my wrists, stilling me.
There’s a shadow in his eyes when he catches my wrists. A ripple of something unspoken, something caged. But he buries it, and I let him.
His breath is heavy. Controlled. Too controlled.
“Not now,” he murmurs, his grip firm but gentle.
I blink up at him, my lips parting—but there’s something in his stance, something fleeting in his eyes. A hesitation. A line he won’t let me cross.
His thumb brushes over my pulse. A silent plea. A distraction.
“I want to focus on you.” His voice is pure certainty, but something in my chest tightens.
My stomach clenches, but I let it go. Because right now, I don’t care.
“Then do it,” I say with conviction.
Kael growls low in his throat—and then he’s kissing me deep enough to wipe out every last thought. He pulls back for a moment, drinking me in, and for the life of me, I can’t help but do the same.
I should be moving. I should be reaching for him, pulling him down to me.
But I can’t.
My gaze drags over the deep cut of muscle along his hips, the trail of dark hair leading lower. Stars help me. Every part of him is carved from war, from battle, from years of training.
And every part of him is mine.
Heat coils low in my stomach. My mouth goes dry. My pulse thrums in my ears, a traitorous, unrelenting drumbeat.
He watches me watching him. A smirk edges the corner of his mouth, dark and knowing.
“You like what you see, Duskae?” His voice is hoarse, like he’s barely holding himself together.
I wet my lips. “Yes.”
His restraint shatters. He’s on me in a breath.
A strangled sound slips from my lips, more breath than voice, before I gasp, “Oh gods—”
He stills.
For a single, aching heartbeat, I feel the shift in the air between us—the sudden stillness, the sharp edge of possession that darkens his gaze before his hand slides to my throat.
Not rough. Not cruel. Just enough. Enough to make my pulse hammer beneath his grip. Enough to make my breath catch as he leans in, his lips grazing my ear.
“There are no gods here, darling.” His voice is a growl, low and dark, filled with something I feel more than hear. His thumb brushes over my racing pulse, his grip tightening just enough to hold me exactly where he wants me. “If you say anyone’s name, it’s mine,” he commands.
A shiver runs through me—not fear, never fear, only need. It curls deep, hot and relentless, unfurling through me as his words settle like a brand against my skin.
He spins me, lowering me to my hands and knees again, as he drops to his own behind me, nudging my knees out wider for better access. He grips my hips so hard I’ll have bruises tomorrow—bruises I want him to leave.
I feel the full, thick warmth of him against my pussy, and then he thrusts deep, burying himself inside me in one possessive, primal stroke.
A sharp, shattered gasp rips from my throat.
Stars fucking save me.
He fills me so completely, so perfectly, it’s devastating. I breathe deeply, acclimating to the stretch his cock demands. He gives me a moment to adjust, but I don’t need it. I push back into him, grinding against his cock, desperate for the friction and the full length of him.
“Look at you,” he grits out, his voice raw. “You take me so well, darling.” He pulls out almost entirely, then thrusts back in, deeper this time, making me feel every inch. “So tight. So fucking perfect. You're made for me, Elyssara.”
Kael fucks me like he’s claiming me. Like this is the only way he’ll let himself have me.
His fingers dig into my waist, his thrusts deep, slow, dragging pleasure from me with every snap of his hips.
“Say it,” he demands, his voice breaking. “Say you’re mine.”
My moan is wordless, breathless, but that’s not enough for him.
He fists my hair, yanking my head back just enough to arch my spine even further.
“Say it, Elyssara.”
“I'm yours, Kael,” I pant.
He growls, thrusting harder, like my words unhinged something in him.
I can barely breathe, barely think, caught between the primal, ruthless possession in his movements and the way my body yields to him completely.
The sound of him—his groans, the filthy and intoxicating words coming from his mouth—is almost too much.
His grip tightens. “You feel that? You take me so fucking well, my perfect girl.”
His arms brackets my sides, one hand reaching around, fingers find my clit, circling, stroking—shocking pleasure through me, white-hot and all-consuming.
The pleasure builds—a slow, relentless tightening, a climb with no end, no escape. My muscles coil, my body bowing, stretching between overwhelming fullness and the ruthless precision of his touch.
“That’s it,” his voice is wrecked. “Come for me, Elyssara.”
And I shatter.
Ecstasy ripples through me, ripping me apart, rebuilding me at the same time. My vision bursts white-hot behind my eyelids, pleasure crashing in waves so deep, so endless, I can’t tell where I begin or end.
I wail his name, my hands clawing at the furs, at anything to anchor me against the sheer force of my climax.
But Kael isn’t done.
He doesn’t stop.
His fingers keep working me, his cock still thrusting deep, prolonging my pleasure until my body is shaking, too much, too good, I can’t, I can’t—
A second wave crashes through me—violent, devastating, leaving me wrecked and undone beneath him. My thighs tremble, my nails curving under from my grip on the furs, my voice breaking on the ruins of his name.
“Fuck—Elyssara—”
“I’m going to fill your pussy,” his voice is pure torment, his thrusts losing rhythm, going wild, desperate, on the edge of breaking.
And then he does—
One. Two. Three brutal, perfect thrusts—and he’s gone.
Kael follows me into oblivion.
His groan is animalistic, almost tortured, as he pulses inside me, claiming me, wrecking me.
He collapses against me, his weight pressing me into the furs, his breath ragged against my skin.
My body still trembles. Still wrung out. Still ruined.
I can’t think. Can’t move.
I feel like I’ve been undone at the seams.
He rolls to the side, pulling me with him, holding me close.
His hands tremble slightly.
He buries his face in my hair, and when he speaks, his voice is quiet, almost reverent.
“Mine,” he murmurs against my skin.
A breath. A kiss. “Always.”