Chapter Thirteen
Annie
H is lips crash against mine, and I gasp, a soft, startled sound that’s swallowed by his kiss. His hand tangles in my hair, tilting my head back, and I melt. Oh, Gods. His mouth is hot, demanding, and I don’t know what to do except cling to his shoulders, my fingers digging into hard muscle.
Fenric growls, and the sound shoots straight between my legs. Before I can process it, his hands grip my hips and yank me forward. I yelp as I’m dragged across the bed, my knees landing on either side of his thighs, my body straddling his.
Oh. I’ve never…
My face burns. I can feel him, all of him, hard and thick beneath me. My breath comes in shallow, panicked bursts. I should pull away. I should—
“Look at me.” His voice is gravelly, his fingers biting into my waist.
I force my eyes open. When had I closed them? And meet his gold eyes, dark, and hungry with want. For me.
His thumb brushes my bottom lip. “You’re shaking.”
I am. Everywhere. My thighs tremble around his. My nipples pebble against the thin fabric of my dress, the weight of my breasts suddenly unbearable. I’ve never been so aware of my own body, the ache between my legs, the slick heat gathering there.
“D-do I…” I swallow. “Do I need to stop?”
Fenric’s jaw clenches. His hands slide up my sides slowly until his thumbs brush the undersides of my breasts, and I inhale sharply.
“Do you want to stop?”
No.
The word lodges in my throat. I shake my head instead, my cheeks flaming.
His lips curl. “Then, don’t.”
One hand fists in my hair again, dragging my mouth back to his. The other cups my breast, his palm searing through the fabric. I whimper as his thumb circles my nipple, teasing, torturing me with each slow pass.
“Fenric!” I gasp against his lips.
“I know, blossom. I’ve got you.”
And then his mouth is on my neck, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin below my ear. My back arches, pressing my chest into his hands. His groan vibrates against my throat.
“You're so fucking perfect,” he murmurs, squeezing my breasts.
His hands slide under my hips, lifting me effortlessly. The quilt falls away, leaving only the soft leather of his breeches and the thin linen of my undergarments between us. I should feel exposed, but the way he's looking at me makes heat bloom across my skin.
“Fenric, I—” My words dissolve into a gasp as he settles me astride him.
The hard length of him presses against my core, and my hands flutter helplessly.
I don't know where to touch, how to move.
Don't know how to handle the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in my belly.
Fenric does, though. His calloused fingers guide my hips forward, grinding me against him in a slow, deliberate circle. “Just like this.”
Oh.
Stars burst behind my eyelids. My nails bite into his shoulders as I rock against him, chasing the friction, the delicious pressure. Something warm and heavy begins to ache in my chest, a sweet tension building where my breasts feel swollen and sensitive.
“That's it,” he growls, one hand sliding up to tug at the laces of my dress. “Use me.”
The cool air kisses my skin as the fabric falls open. His breath catches as his hands cradle the weight of them, thumbs brushing over peaks already stiff and leaking. I whimper as a bead of milk escapes, glistening in the firelight.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and then his mouth is on me. The first pull from his lips wrings a cry from my own, my back arching as pleasure arcs through me. He groans against my skin, the vibration making my toes curl, as he licks and suckles with just the perfect amount of pressure.
I don't understand this feeling, the way my body responds to him, like it was made for this. Made for him. Every tug of his lips sends fresh waves of heat pulsing between my thighs, where I'm grinding against him with increasing desperation.
“F-Fenric,” I gasp, fingers tangling in his hair. “I don't— I can't—”
He releases me with a wet pop, catching the spilled milk with his thumb. “You can,” he promises, swiping the droplet across my parted lips. “And you will. Let me show you.”
As his mouth claims mine, tasting of salt and sweetness, I realize I'd do anything this man asked of me.
His kiss tastes like my milk. It’s sweet and strange. I moan into his mouth, still rocking against the hard ridge of his leathers. The friction is almost enough, but not quite. I whimper, my body trembling with need I don’t understand.
Fenric pulls back. “Annie.” His voice is rough, but his hands are gentle as they frame my face. “I want to taste you. Everywhere.” His thumb traces my lower lip. “But only if you say yes.”
I know what he means. Maeve and Beatrice had giggled about this, about men who kneel between thighs like they’re praying. The thought makes my cheeks burn.
“I’ve never…” My voice is barely a whisper.
“I know.” He kisses my forehead, my nose, each flaming cheek. “We’ll go slow. Tell me to stop anytime.” His fingers drift to the laces of my dress. “May I?”
I nod, squeezing my eyes shut as he peels the fabric away. The cool air makes me shiver, but his hands are warm, skating down my arms, my ribs, my waist, worshipping every inch.
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs.
When his fingers hook into the waistband of my undergarments, I tense. He pauses. “Look at me, little one.”
I force my eyes open. The hunger in his gaze doesn’t scare me, though. It undoes me.
“Yes.” I breathe.
He strips them away, his breath catching. My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might burst from my chest as Fenric stretches me out beneath him.
“F-Fenric…”
“Shhh,” he murmured, his voice a warm rumble against my skin. “Let me take care of you.”
I cover my face, but he tugs my hands down. “No hiding. I want to see you.” Then he’s lowering his head, and—
Oh!
His tongue laps me slowly, like he’s savoring his first taste of honey. “ Fenric !”
“That’s it,” he murmurs, his breath hot against me. “Just like that, my sweet mate.”
Mate. The word lingers at the edges of my mind, half-formed and dizzying, before white heat crashes through me and I forget how to think at all.
A whimper escapes me as my fingers twist in the sheets.
There’s no space in my thoughts to dwell, not when he does it again, firmer this time, his tongue dragging in a long, slow lick that makes my hips jerk.
I whimper, my face burning. Am I supposed to move like that?
But his growl of approval vibrates against my skin, and his hands slide under my thighs to hold me steady.
“Shh, it’s alright,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. “You’re doing so well. Such a good girl.”
His mouth returns to me properly this time, but there’s a reverence in the way he tastes me, like he can’t get enough.
He licks into me, deep and slow, his tongue pressing against my entrance before swirling upward in a tight, teasing circle around the spot that makes my toes curl.
I cry out, my back arching, but Fenric doesn’t stop.
He just keeps licking, over and over, each stroke a little firmer, a little hungrier, until my entire body shakes.
“F-Fenric, I— oh !” My voice breaks as he suddenly closes his lips around that throbbing little bud and sucks, his tongue flicking rapidly against it. Pleasure shoots through me like lightning, so intense I nearly sob.
“Gods, you taste so sweet,” he growls against me, his fingers digging gently into my thighs. “So fucking perfect. Annie, your cunt is so pretty and wet for me.”
His praise sends a fresh wave of heat through me, my hips rocking helplessly against his mouth.
He groans, the vibration making me whimper, and then he pushes a thick finger slowly inside me, only one, curling it just so while his tongue never stops circling my clit.
The stretch burns, but it’s good, so good, the fullness makes me moan.
“That’s it,” he rasps, his voice rough with hunger but still impossibly tender. “Take it, sweetheart. I know it’s your first time; I’ll be gentle. Just let me feel how tight you are.”
His finger moves, a slow drag in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue. My thighs shake, my hands fisting in the sheets. I’m so close. I can feel it building, tightening low in my belly.
“Fenric, I—I can’t!”
“Yes, you can,” he tells me, sucking softer now, encouraging me. “Come for me, Annie. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”
I sob, my hands fisting in the linens. It’s too much! It’s not enough .
“That’s it,” he growls against my flesh. One arm wraps around my thighs, holding me still as his mouth and finger work me open.
“Come for me!” he commands.
And I do.
White heat crashes through me, my back bowing as I cry out. He drinks every drop, his groan vibrating through me, until I’m limp and trembling.
When he lifts his head, his lips glisten. He kisses my inner thigh, then crawls up my body, cradling my face. “Still with me?”
I nod, dazed. His hardness presses against my hip, and I blush, realizing. “You don’t…?”
Fenric smiles, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Not tonight. You’ve done enough for me today,” he murmurs, kissing my forehead. “This was all about you. I only want to make you feel good.”
His warmth surrounds me as he gathers me against his chest. I melt into him, my fingers tracing idle patterns over his skin as our breaths slow together.
The adrenaline of the day begins to fade, and the last thing I remember is the warmth of his heartbeat beneath my ear, as sleep drags us both under.