23. Building Up
Building Up
G reta moaned into Geralt’s mouth, tangling her tongue with his, writhing beneath him for greater friction, sloshing mud against her back. His mouth pulled away to trail kisses along her neck and collarbone. Impatient hands pulling down the collar of her shirt.
He snarled, his claws lengthening before he raked them down, shredding her shirt. He purred at her exposed chest, pulling the halves of her shirt off of her, bringing his mouth closer. Garnet eyes shone up at her as he caught the lip of the cup of her bra between inhuman canines. One jerk of his head had him rending her bra right off of her.
She gasped, rolling her hips up, wanting his cock rubbing against her and inside her at the same time. Little pinpricks of electricity raced along her skin from every point of contact. It stung, but caused dampness to coat her panties. Magick became a living, feral thing, spreading out from her, altering the surrounding air. A fog rolled in, obscuring them from prying eyes, her magick infecting the dampness in the air.
Geralt kissed a path done her bare chest to the top of her shorts. He licked into her belly button before giving her shorts the same treatment as her shirt. She laid on the damp earth, feeling feverish and needy for the Lycan slowly divesting her of her clothing.
She laid before him in just a pair of formerly white panties, damp earth staining the material. He crooked a finger under the seam covering her opening, looking her in the eyes.
“Are you sure about this, Greta? There’s no going back after we consummate this. Hell, I’m not sure there’s going back if we don’t, but if you want to wait—” Greta lifted her hips toward his hand, letting the backs brush along her slick folds, moaning at the sensation of his warm skin teasing hers.
He hissed out a breath, rubbing his knuckles along her opening, letting her wetness coat his fingers. Madness beckoned if he didn’t enter her soon. She released pathetic whimpers while gyrating her hips against his hand. Cool air teased her hardened nipples and clammy skin.
She wanted him. Now.
Geralt, please , she thought at him. A strangled noise stuttered out of him. She gave him a wicked grin, pleased to have disarmed the wolf for once.
“As you wish, mate. Just remember, after this you’re mine,” he growled, crawling up to claim her mouth again, tongue plunging in as if he owned her. She assumed he did after what happened next.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, surrendering to the inevitability of their bond. He’d seen her at her worst, protected her when she was most vulnerable, and asked before taking. She couldn’t help but think Hecate and Selene chose well for her.
His cock dented her panties with each thrust of his hips. Geralt reached a hand down, moving them aside so his cock slid along her lips, eliciting a shocked moan from her. Nothing should feel as good as his hard cock sliding through her slick folds did at that moment.
Her teeth clamped down on his lips and she lifted her hips up eagerly, needing more. She wanted all of him. Her magick threatened to rend her in half if she didn’t have him inside of her soon, the fog shifting from a cool shroud to a burning mist.
The tip of his cock edged her entrance teasingly. He’d enter then retreat. It was Greta’s turn to growl, digging her blunt nails into his back, and thrusting her hips up aggressively so that more than an inch entered. Her walls clenched on the added length, tempting her with an eruption.
“Geralt,” she pleaded shamelessly. “Please, give it to me.” She lost to the lustful haze engulfing her mind. She couldn’t handle anymore teasing. Her next breath depended on him sheathing his cock inside of her. Tears stung her eyes, a deep-rooted craving gnawing at her.
It whispered that she needed his knot, that nothing else would satisfy her. She nearly screamed from the internal pressure, nails biting into dense muscle.
Perhaps sensing her mounting desperation, he eased more of his length into her, stretching her with each added inch. Her eyes threatened to roll back, his girth stretching her and scraping along her walls in a way no other had before. She spasmed and clenched around the thick cock easing inside of her.
Guttural incoherent noises spilled from her lips, but she was too far gone to care. Her legs tightened around his waist, needing more. Insanity taunted her, shadowing her mind. She needed him, all of him. Their bond tightened around both of them, gasps filling the air from their lips at the same time.
Dearest Hecate, help her, but she’d never be the same. When a thick piece of flesh kissed her nether lips, she nearly screamed from the intensity of being filled and the added stimulation.
“My knot,” Geralt grunted, tendons straining in his neck, eyes deepening to the darkest shade of red that appeared to want to shift to pure black. Greta’s insides kept spasming and fluttering around his thickness. Geralt held himself still, allowing her to adjust, and it became a different type of torment.
Her climax rested just out of reach, smirking at her. If her ancestors saw her now, they would’ve cleansed her coven long before the Lycans came.
“Geralt,” she moaned, not sure what she was asking for, but needing something extra to push her over the edge. His knot kissed her lips. Some primal part of her ushered her to take it, whispering she’d feel as close to divinity as a mortal could if he knotted her. As desperate as she felt, she listened to the insidious whispers, grinding against the knot brushing her clit from being stretched open by Geralt’s cock.
It bordered on too much, and yet not enough. Her nails bit into him hard enough to draw blood, skin separating beneath her desperation, blunted nails piercing flesh.
“Greta,” Geralt groaned, retreating an inch and surging forward again. She gasped, her entire being poised on a precipice.
“Fuck me, Geralt,” she whispered, tears leaking from her eyes. A growl served as her only warning.
His weight left hers, warm skin no longer brushing her own. He held his weight on outstretched arms, muscles bulging. His cock dragged along her walls on the retreat, teasing her with the climax she’s denied. He thrust forward, hard enough to shove her upward, skin dragging along the damp earth.
Another scream clawed for freedom, mouth held agape, letting grunted moans tumble free. She held on while Geralt set a bruising pace, making sure every inch of him kissed her insides. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he shouted, driving with enough force to shove his knot inside her.
Greta came apart, cells splintering into billions of pieces, bliss kissing every atom of her being. When she came to, she lay limply beneath Geralt as he made shallow thrusts, aftershocks traveling through both of them. Greta swore she kissed Hecate’s feet when his knot entered her and swelled to impossible proportions.
Heavy breathing filled the air, sweat dripping from Geralt’s skin and landing on her cheek. She felt like she’d broken apart and the wolf put her back together with the Mother’s help. She blinked sluggishly, raw emotions and sexual bliss tempting her to shut down. How quickly she came to trust the male braced above her, his knot keeping them joined.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, uncertain if her lips actually formed words. She gave up the fight to the darkness. After all, the shadows offered solace even to Hecate.