Chapter 14
SAPHIRA
Kaeleron’s deep rumbling groan as he kissed me poured fuel on the fire sweeping through my veins as he pulled me flush against him, the feel of his hard body pressing into mine rousing a need to run my hands over his flesh to feel the strength and power in every beautiful sculpted plane of it.
I moaned as I gripped his shoulders, as the need that had been building within me over the last few days demanded an outlet, and didn’t shy away from what I wanted.
I shifted my hands until they met bare skin and pushed his opened tunic off his shoulders before pressing my fingers deep into them, earning a husky chuckle as he angled his head the other way, and my chastising words about him finding my need of him so amusing died as he kissed me deep, hard, satisfying that part of me that needed to feel him.
Really feel him.
He grabbed my backside and lifted me, and then teleported.
I grunted as my back hit the broad trunk of a tree, as his body pressed into mine, his hips between my thighs now as he pinned me, holding me in place as he devoured my lips, teased my tongue with his and tore another trembling moan from me as my body came alive.
His tunic slipped off his shoulders completely, sleeves catching on his forearms, baring silken skin and taut muscles my fingers delighted in traversing.
The power he exuded, a heady combination of magical and physical, spoke to me on some deeply primal level, and I couldn’t stop myself from focusing on my hands where they gripped the honed muscles of his arms. I could feel the strength in him as he adjusted his grip and they flexed.
Strength I wanted to feel him use on me.
“More,” I whispered and loosed another sighing breath as he dropped his head to my throat and nipped at my skin.
“Saphi,” he murmured and licked where he had nipped, his voice like black magic, rousing the heat in me until it was unbearable and I squirmed against him, rocking my hips into his, into the hard evidence of the arousal and need that had dripped from his voice.
Colouring my name.
No one had ever said it like that.
With so much need, so much passion, or so desperately, as if I was everything he needed and he would die if he didn’t have me.
Right here, right now, where Morden could easily come upon us.
And I didn’t care if that happened.
I didn’t care that this wasn’t only about sating our combined physical needs as he leaned back and pulled my blouse up, exposing my bare breasts.
He dropped his head and pulled my left nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth before he sucked and pleasure shot down to my clit, making it throb and pulse.
This was a show of possession.
The staking of a claim.
And I loved it.
I loved it when he dropped me to my feet and had the laces of my leathers undone in a heartbeat without ever touching them, using his shadows to untie them as he focused on falling to his knees to pull them down my legs.
Rather than pulling my boots off, he left my leather pants around my knees, almost like he had found me when I had accidentally summoned him, and then he sat back to admire me.
“What were you picturing when I caught you touching yourself, my little wolf?” he purred, his smile feline, the heat in his gaze scorching me as he ran it down the length of my body, from my still exposed breasts to my now-exposed pussy. “Were you thinking of my fingers here?”
He skimmed them up my inner thigh, the touch so light it tickled and I squirmed as I grew wetter, as I ached for him to touch me where I needed him most and stop teasing me.
A shiver wracked me as he reached the apex of my thighs and delved his fingers between them, his look hot and possessive as he held my gaze.
Commanding.
My eyelids drooped as pleasure rolled through me.
“Eyes on me, Saphira,” he growled, so demanding that my body flushed with heat in response to his gruff order, to the thought that he wanted me to watch him as he touched me.
He stroked his fingers over my flesh and I moaned and swallowed as jolts of hot bliss cascaded outwards from that point, and I grew slicker still as he husked, “Did you think of me here? Stroking you with my tongue… tasting you… feasting on you?”
He flicked my clit.
And then plunged his hand deeper, ripping a moan from my lips as he thrust two fingers into me.
“Or did you imagine me here? My cock filling you, stretching your tight little body, fucking you so thoroughly that your legs would shake when I was done with you and filled your greedy body with my seed?”
Good gods.
I gripped the tree behind me for support as his words wrecked me, building that picture in my mind so perfectly that I felt as if it was happening.
“Look at how wet you are, my hungry little wolf.” He stroked me, his fingers easily gliding in and out of me. “Wet for me. Only me.”
There was possession in those words and a demand, a need for me to tell him that he was right and only he could make me feel like this—that it was only him I needed this badly.
Not my mate.
Definitely not Morden, like he believed.
I needed him.
“Only you,” I whispered, willing to let him hear those words, because I needed him, felt I might go mad if he kept teasing me with his fingers, pushing me higher and higher when I needed more than that from him.
I needed all of him.
On a low growl, he pulled on the backs of my knees, making them buckle beneath me, and in a lightning-fast move as I fell, he caught me and twisted me away from him.
The bark of the tree was rough against my cheek as he pinned me to it on my knees, as he gripped my wrists in one hand and his shadows and shoved them against the trunk above my head, and his other hand pushed down on my lower back, forcing my bottom upwards.
He entered me in one brutal thrust that made me feel every inch of him as he kneeled between my legs, keeping them apart.
His back met mine and his cheek pressed to my other one.
His other hand claimed one of my wrists, and he pinned them both to the tree on either side of my head, holding me in place with them and his shadows as they twined around my forearms, making it so I couldn’t move.
Oh gods.
The position we were in, his body caging mine, his cock so deep in me, scattered all my thoughts and left only pleasure behind, a desperate need for him to move, for him to take me.
To claim me.
He withdrew and plunged into me again, shoving me into the tree with each brutal, claiming thrust that maddened me.
I moaned as he did, our breaths mingling as he thrust and withdrew, as his cock filled and stretched me as he had promised, the front of his thighs smashing into the backs of mine each time our bodies met.
“You are mine, Saphi,” he growled into my cheek as he took me harder, faster. “Only mine.”
I moaned my reply as pleasure built, as each brush of him against my cleft as he entered me again took me higher, out of my mind.
His fingers tightened on my wrists, the pain of his hold and the dominance of the position we were in, and the feel of him thrusting to the hilt too much to bear.
Oh gods. He plunged deep and hard, his balls striking me with each punishing thrust to send shivers sparking outwards from my clitoris.
Oh sweet gods. Talons tipped his fingers as he clutched my wrists, and the thought of him taking me with his darker side at the fore only made me burn hotter.
I ached for the feel of his fangs in my nape, piercing my flesh again.
Those fangs pressed dangerously against my cheek.
I shuddered, breath stuttering, pleasure blinding me as he punctuated each harsh word that lashed from his lips with a thrust of his cock into my slick core.
“You. Are. Mine.”
I was his.
I was.
I couldn’t form the words as my sanity scattered, as it all became too much and I drowned in the wicked pleasure of the brutal way he was claiming me, possessing me.
I howled as I shattered.
Howled.
My entire body quaked as release blazed through me, as my breaths caught and all I knew was pleasure, bliss, hot and wonderful, a feeling that became perfection as he lodged himself deep inside me and spilled, his cock throbbing and jerking, his moans of pleasure like music to my ears as he held me tight, his body trembling as badly as mine.
He sank against my back, holding me on him, remaining wedged in me as he pressed kisses to my shoulder, my neck, my cheek, and then he lowered one hand and angled my head towards him, claiming my lips.
His kiss was so soft and tender that it added a new layer of warmth, one that turned the frenetic and dominant moment into something tender and deep, and filled me with an intense sense of connection to him.
“Did I hurt you?” he murmured against my lips, concern lacing his deep voice.
“No.” I moaned as I wriggled against him, no blush staining my cheeks as I thought about how rough we had been, how possessive and commanding he had been, and how good it had felt. “I loved it.”
He chuckled. “Wicked little wolf.”
I smiled as he kissed the corner of my mouth. “I’m not going to deny that.”
I rolled my hips against him.
Ripping a groan from him.
“Do not get me started again.” He swept his free hand up my stomach beneath my blouse and kneaded my right breast. “I find I like having you in this position far too much.”
I unashamedly rolled my hips again.
Goading him.
“Show me how much you like it,” I teased.
And he did.