Chapter Thirty-Nine #2
“And I will never leave you,” she shudders against me, her nails digging into my back, her lips trembling against mine as she whispers the word that is my undoing, “mate.”
Dahlia
Eryon flips me onto my hands and knees. The earth is cool beneath my palms, a stark contrast to the heat of his body as he cages me in, trapping me exactly where he wants me. Where I want to be.
A hiss escapes my mouth as he curls his massive form over me, trapping me between his large body and the earth. A satisfied growl rumbles from his chest as he subdues his prey. I had longed for this, to be taken by him in his full Migoi form.
I wanted the experience of pure primal claiming but now that I’m trapped, his hard cock pressed between us, I’m not so sure. Before I can think it through, my body reacts—bucking wildly, trying to throw him off my back, but it's futile. I can’t so much as budge the creature wrapped around me.
He brings his nose to my hair, scenting me. As his breath cascades over my ear and neck, shivers race across my shoulder and down my spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
I turn my head, desperate to catch a glimpse of those luminous eyes I love so much. Instead, I am rewarded with a snarl and a lick up the side of my face.
One large hand palms the back of my head, forcing it down to the ground to keep me pinned.
A cry leaves my lips as the glorious weight of him disappears from my back.
It turns to a gasp when he wrenches my hips up into the air.
Great, snuffling breaths trace down my spine and over my ass.
I hear a sharp inhale followed by a satisfied moan, my only warning before he devours me.
Eryon
Her body fits against mine too well, curves molding to my heat, yielding even as she trembles. Her pulse flutters beneath my lips. Her scent, thick with need, coils around me, drugging me. And when I part her thighs, when I press my mouth against her inner core, dripping with need—she screams.
I am going to consume her like a wild fire. She asked for my wildest. She will have it. And by the time I am done—she will never doubt who she belongs to again.
Dahlia
I am drowning again. Drowning in heat, in sensation, in him. His tongue is sin and fire, claiming every part of me. He feasts on me like a starving creature, dragging pleasure from my body until I am shaking beneath him.
He laps at my pussy, my ass, my cheeks, devouring me. The building sensations are a direct counterpoint to the harsh earth digging into my hands and knees. My head and body are pinned, immobile.
His great tongue probes at my entrance, slipping inside of me. A cry rips from my throat as his mouth finds my core, licking, sucking, claiming. His tongue is impossibly long, hot, and thick, sliding inside me in deep, delving strokes.
I buck against him, my body writhing in his grasp, desperate for more, for everything, for him.
He gives me no reprieve. His fingers stroke over my clit, teasing, punishing, owning.
I sob his name, my body breaking apart beneath his mouth, drowning in pleasure. I whimper, pressing back, needing more—needing everything.
And then—he’s gone.
A broken sob escapes me at the devastating loss. I whimper, thrusting my hips back against empty air, desperate for his touch.
“Oh, please,” I beg, wanting the warm heat to return to my dripping core. “Please.”
A dark chuckle rumbles behind me.
“Please what?” he snarls.
“Please, do that again,” I whimper.
Eryon
She begs so prettily. I need to hear more of her cries, more of her need for me. I want to hear her choose me again, choose us, over and over. The need will never be sated.
“Do what?” I demand, barely able to form the words through the haze of lust boiling in my veins, the red threatening to consume my vision.
I see her warring with embarrassment, but her needs win out. “Please put your tongue inside me again.”
I need to fill every part of her, taste every inch of her decadent skin. Lay claim to all of her. Instead of returning my tongue to plunge into her sex, I explore the rest of her body tasting all of her, claiming all of her.
I map every texture, every soft hollow, every decadent curve until her taste is all I know. Until I’ve branded her into my tongue and my touch into her skin. I wait to meet her needs until she is a whimpering, quivering mass of desire under my touch.
A startled scream quickly morphs into a moan as I finally return to her core to drive my tongue deep inside of her, carefully sheathing my claws and moving a hand up to her entrance to fill her up completely.
When she begins to clench and pulse around my finger and tongue, I work another finger into her tight heat.
She lets out a hiss at the intrusion, but I know I need to prepare her to take me as much as I can. I revel in every moan, every whimper until I find the rhythm that makes her sing, touch the spots that make her ripple and clench around me.
I learn my mate inside and out. Pleasuring her is a gift, and it is one I look forward to perfecting. My tongue grows more insistent as her arousal drips from my hand. I pulse it deeper, finding the spot inside of her tight channel that makes her cry out.
When her hips thrust back into me, I work one more finger in, wringing a torrent of incomprehensible moans and cries that echo like music through the cavern.
My movements reach a fevered pitch along with her cries, my restraint hangs by a thread, but I want, no I need, to hear her consumed by pleasure.
I rub small circles with my thumb over her sensitive bundle of nerves to push her over the edge and she falls like a landslide. Sublime, consuming, devastating.
My control frays, unspooling at the edges. I line up my throbbing erection, already dripping in anticipation, with her entrance. The moment stretches impossibly heavy in between the beats of my heart.
I coat myself in her arousal, hardening impossibly further at the shine that proves her choice. I want to hear her plead, hear her sob my name as I take her—but she is mine. And I will not simply take. I will claim.
I sink my aching member just inside her welcoming, hot channel, and she clenches around me, already trying to pull me inside of her. But I wait for a heavy beat, living in the moment of anticipation. The last second of before, knowing every moment after this we will be mated.
The thought has me unable to hold back any longer, the beast within finally clawing its way through my resolve, punching my hips forward to lay claim. The first thrust is brutal, despite my preparations, stretching her around me, stealing the breath from both our lungs.
She gasps. I snarl.
And then—I ruin her.
The cavern echoes with the sounds of our mating—rough, primal, unrestrained. There is no hesitation, no holding back. She asked for my wildest and she will have it. And by the time I am done, she will never doubt who she belongs to again.
She shudders and lets out a low moan as her body welcomes me, stretches around me. Perfect, tight, mine.
I don’t start slow. I fuck her open. The cavern shakes with the force of our mating. The sound of skin slapping, the wet, obscene drag of my cock inside her, her cries, my growls. A perfect symphony of sound and heat and primal claiming. The sound of us.
Dahlia
I am undone.
This is what I had wanted. For him to mate me in his full beast form, no holding back. I spread my knees wider and brace myself on my arms. No amount of foreplay could have prepared me for the onslaught that is Eryon in full beast form.
Every inch of him stretches me to the breaking point, burning and blissful and so, so much. He grips my hips, holding me still, forcing me to take all of him.
Every nerve ignites, pleasure streaking through my body like wildfire. I sob his name, shaking, overwhelmed, as he pumps his hips, long strokes that explore every inch inside my tight heat.
He feels twice as large as the last time. Thicker. Longer. Every pulsating vein, every ridge is an exquisite texture sliding over my sensitized nerve endings. My own harsh pants echo in my ears.
He bottoms out against my cervix, but I know I still haven’t taken all of him. He wraps his arms around my body and holds me suspended in front of him, managing to caress my breasts with one hand while the other applies pressure to my belly and clit.
All I can do is take his cock as he pushes in further after every retreat. I feel my stomach moving with his member, and pleasure begins to swell within me. His shaggy soft hair envelops me, his body curled around mine.
I imagine when we must look like—a great beast rutting into a helpless female—and the taboo thought pushes me further into dark decadence. Pure animalistic pleasure.
Everything blurs into sensation and heat. I can feel him warm even more around me and within me, the large veins that line his impressive cock pulsing, enlarging. Sweat drips off my body just as the arousal drips from between my thighs. The caves echo with our shared cries of pleasure.
“Mine,” he growls against my neck, his grip tightening on my hips.
“Yes,” I whisper, voice raw and wrecked.
He pulls back, then slams forward, driving me across the cave floor, filling me, wrecking me. Small pinpricks of pain flare on my knees as they drag over the rough stone, a small pebble lodged beneath, but they are no more than an afterthought as I’m consumed by Eryon.
“Say it.” His voice is rough, desperate.
I know he needs this. Needs me.
And I? I need him.
Writhing and clawing at the ground, I gasp, “Eryon, I’m yours. Always.”
I cannot stop the whine that falls from my lips as he abruptly pulls out of me, only to moan in surrender as he flips me over and thrusts impossibly deeper. With his great arms wrapped around me, all I feel is Eryon.