Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Water rushes over me, the weight of my wet clothes dragging me under. Panic bubbles up like the scream that escapes from my throat, but before I can even fight to surface on my own, he lifts me from the water like a rag doll, holding me against him as I sputter and gasp.
Marvelling at his reflexes, I cough, then mumble, “Sorry.”
He raises an eyebrow. “How did you survive without me?”
My jaw drops. His voice is rough, as if dragged from the heart of the mountain, hewn from the stones themselves, but his English is flawless.
Which means…
The singing. The abdominal snowman nickname. The ass comment.
He heard everything.
My cheeks flame as I mumble out the first response that comes to my mind. “To be fair, I don’t usually almost die more than once a day.”
“I rather enjoy you alive,” he replies, setting me on my feet. The way his voice rumbles over the word enjoy reverberates deep in my core.
The water laps at my waist, and as I look down, I realize three things.
One—all I had to do to save myself was stand up in the shallow water. Instead, I panicked.
Two—for the first time in my life, I am very small. I barely reach his chest, and the water that pulled me under doesn’t even make it past his thighs.
And that’s how I end up staring directly at realization number three—giant mythical creatures have giant mythical cocks.
Oh. My. Gods.
And said cock is now close. Very close.
I can’t help but stare. In awe. In curiosity. In want.
He begins to harden under my gaze, the already impressive member rising up through the air towards me as the long prominent veins on the shaft begin to pulse. Mortified, I snap my eyes away.
“Um, thanks again,” I squeak, suddenly fascinated by the shimmering stalactites above us.
As he reaches out to unzip my coat, I bat his hand away and snap my eyes back to his. “Excuse me! Just because I had a little looky loo doesn’t mean you can undress me.”
He rolls his eyes and says, “Your clothes are soaked. You’ll catch cold.”
As if on cue, the clothes clinging wetly to my body above the warm waters start to cool, leeching the heat from my skin.
“Oh, of course. I’m sorry. You’re right,” I say sheepishly, and start peeling off layers, clumsy and shivering, aware of his eyes following my every movement.
When I struggle to pull off my boot, he steps forward and uses a single claw to slice the tangled laces free.
Feeling shy despite the dim light in the caverns, I strip but leave my soaked white tank and panties on.
I thrust my soggy pile at him and watch him vault out of the water with fluid ease. When he returns, his silver eyes fall to my peaked nipples blatantly visible through the thin wet fabric. His gaze turns molten, and my skin heats hotter than the water around us.
I let him take my hand and guide me deeper. The pool glows brighter here, and I trail my fingers through the glow, entranced, as a laugh escapes me—light and unguarded.
“Do that again,” he says softly.
I look up, caught by the change in his voice. “Do what?”
“Laugh.”
Then he sweeps me into his arms and spins me, pulling more laughter from my lips. For a moment, I forget everything. The snow and suffocation, betrayal and degrees, the elusive flower, even Ben, all just fall away.
Here I am warm and safe. Seen.
When I reach for his jaw, my fingers trembling, he goes still.
Our eyes meet.
And I realize with a start, I want him to kiss me. Need him to. I’m drowning again—but this time in pools of liquid silver heat, and the only thing that will save me is his kiss. I need him to breathe his air into me, to ease the tightness of suffocation gripping my chest for the third time today.
The already humid air thickens with the tension that blooms between us like a rare flower. Beautiful and exotic.
But instead of kissing me, his tongue traces his lower lip, a glint of pointed canines showing as he guides me deeper into the pool. The water begins to move, glowing and swirling as if alive. But I can’t tear my eyes away from his.
In the deeper waters, a current flows over my body like a lover's hands. He positions me against a jet-like pulsing. It strokes my back, lower, until it pulses between my thighs, and my gasp is immediate.
He growls, low and feral, and spins me so my back is pressed to his chest. His rapidly-hardening cock rubs against the swell of my ass, thick and impossibly hot.
His hand slips beneath my tank to palm my breast. The other moves between my thighs, tugging my panties aside. The water finds me there, steaming and relentless, and I cry out as it pulses against me.
His voice is dark silk at the shell of my ear. “What was that song you were singing earlier?”
Song? What song? I can’t answer him when all I can think about is his hands roving over my breasts. All I can feel is the heat of his impressive erection grinding against me. And that damn relentless water is driving me mad.
“Back that ass up?” he murmurs, every syllable drenched in wicked satisfaction.
Caught off guard, I laugh, but then he adjusts himself so that his monster cock is between my thighs. When he thrusts, my laugh trails off into a moan. Desperate for more, I cross my ankles and squeeze my knees, trapping him there, grinding down on him.
He groans, the sound vibrating through my back.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Let me feel how much your body weeps for me.”
I reach down, attempting to fit my fingers around the thick, tapered head of his cock that protrudes past my legs. He pulses against my palm, and I stroke slowly, worshipfully, exploring every vein, every ridge that I can reach. Precum coats my fingertips like liquid fire.
His hand returns to my clit, working in perfect counterpoint to the jet. My hips shift, chasing the rhythm, hungry for more. They can’t decide whether to try to grind down onto the girth between my thighs or seek out the pulsating water.
“Please,” I whisper, the need raw in my voice.
He releases my sex and yanks my tank top to expose my breasts to his questing hands.
He massages them, easily supporting my weight in the water so I can grind against him.
I feel every ridge, every contour and pulsing ropelike vein along the iron shaft trapped between my thighs.
My soaked tanktop clings to my curves, nipples taut against his palms. I am lust incarnate.
Ben always made me feel like I was too much. Too soft. Too needy. But this creature—he holds me like I’m perfect. Like I was made to be worshipped.
I moan, pussy dripping, thighs trembling. Sliding back and forth along his shaft until the tapered head nudging against my clit has me so close, but I can’t get enough friction with the slick water.
His fingers twist into my hair, tilting my head back until I meet his gaze to find those silver storms swirling with hunger. His other hand slices my panties free with a quick flick of his claws, then slips inside me.
The first finger slides deep, thick and bold. I let out a deep groan at the feeling, my arousal even slicker than the water surrounding us. When he adds another, the stretch pulls a broken sound from my throat. But it’s when he curls them inside me and his thumb returns to my clit that I shatter.
The climax rips through me like that damned avalanche. I clench around his fingers, limbs trembling, a cascade of cries and curses falling from my lips as he coaxes every aftershock from my shaking body.
He turns me to face him, a dark, satisfied smile showcasing his pointed canines.
He lifts me easily, and my legs immediately wrap around his waist. His cock strains toward my entrance, swollen and impossibly thick.
The fear he will split me in two pierces through my lust filled haze and must be clear on my face.
“You will take me,” he says, voice like thunder. “But tonight, you take only my seed.”
At last he claims my mouth in a kiss—hot, rough, consuming. His tongue plunges into my mouth, stroking mine, chasing every retreat, swallowing every sound I make. The sharp edge of his teeth just grazes my lips but has me moaning all over again.
His cock presses just barely inside, just the tip of the tapered head, and my lips part in a gasp at the exquisite stretch.
He groans into the kiss, one hand tangled in my hair, the other running down my back, over my ass, and moving lower until he’s pressing a slick finger against my tightest opening. The water makes everything so damn slippery, and it slides in on a moan.
I feel desperate and wicked for all he is offering. All that I have wanted and desired, my secret fantasies safely hidden away for so long are being laid bare. I want him everywhere.
The fear of his size drifts away in the swirling water and the overwhelming sensations have me grinding down, chasing him, desperate for more.
He reaches down between us to pump his thick shaft while he uses his other hand to claim my ass with slow, advancing strokes.
Desire unfurls, dark and wild. I writhe against him, undone, desperately trying to get more of his monster cock inside of me, but even with my arousal and this mineral water, it just won’t fit.
He breaks the kiss to pant against my cheek.
“You want me to claim every inch of your body,” he growls, not a question but a declaration.
I nod, helpless, too consumed by the sensations to even speak, and it is his undoing.
His tip swells inside me, and then—release. Hot spurts pulse from his cock, shooting into me, branding me. It floods my channel, overflowing out of my entrance, hotter than even the water around us and my body responds, aching to draw it deeper. To be filled. Marked. Claimed, just as he said.
The deep pressure of the hot fluid has another climax crashing over me—stronger, wetter, wilder. I scream into the echoing cave, a raw sound of need and freedom and surrender.
But he’s not done with me.
With a deep growl, he stalks over and balances me on the slick stone edge of the pool. My legs tremble as he lifts one over his shoulder.
“Keep my seed inside of you,” he rasps, the possessiveness in his voice gathering like a snowstorm in my soul. “Hold it in your tight heat.”
Before I can answer, he slides the head of his cock free. Thick, white cum drips from my entrance, and he tsks, swiping it up and using two thick fingers to push it back into me. He presses his other palm against the fullness of my belly like he’s trying to imprint himself into my womb.
A feral moan tears from my throat. The sight of his release being stroked back into me, the way he watches me like I’m already his—it’s too much.
My core flutters again, tightening. My thighs shake.
He doesn’t stop.
One hand continues to stroke and fill me, while the other slides up to caress my breast, teasing the nipple until it's hard and aching.
“I want you to feel me inside of you for days,” he growls. “I want your body to crave me. Hunger for me. Weep for me.”
My body jerks and locks around his fingers, a gush of liquid pleasure pulsing out to mix with his seed, the water, the heat. Weeping for him, just as he said.
He lowers his great shaggy head and sucks my breast into his mouth, laving my nipple with his tongue before switching to the other side. His fingers continue to pump into me, and the sound of my desire echoes off the water and into the cave around us.
It is so real and raw. I chase his fingers with my hips, my head falling back in ecstasy as I grip the ledge.
I am pure need. He sinks his sharp teeth into my breast, and my screams echo in the cave, a primal cry of surrender as my pussy clenches tight, locking down on his large fingers. My limbs shake, and my vision blurs.
He holds me through it, strong arms anchoring me to him.
When I collapse against him, wrecked and boneless, he murmurs something soft in a language I don’t know.
All I understand is I just had the best orgasm of my life.
With a Yeti.
And gods help me—I want more.