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Strong hands drag me onto his lap. He hooks my legs around his waist. I thread my fingers through his short hair and meet his eyes.
“You ready?” he asks.
I nod, and he fits his cock to my entrance, coating the length with my desire. My moan of encouragement causes a muttered something about not lasting, about needing more time to show me everything he’s learned, his special move. But his hips give a small thrust. The first small breech is a shock, a stretch. I drop my teeth to the tendon between his shoulder and neck.
“Yes,” he hisses. “Bite me hard. Make me yours.”
I whimper and press harder.
“There’s no easy way to do this, love. It’s going to hurt.” His hands return to my hips. “Just say when.”
“When.”
He fills me with short, fast thrusts. Each motion is a contrast of pain and ecstasy. Once seated, he gives me a moment to adjust. Then he lifts and slams me down to meet another powerful thrust. Stars in my eyes. A flash of pleasure in the pain. Another still moment. He bites off a ragged groan as I squirm.
“You feel so fucking good,” he rasps, lidded gray eyes lifting to mine. Gray, not black. He’s being careful with me. “Is this okay?”
My answer is a slow drag off his cock and a flex back down. He kneads my bottom. I feel him inside, so deep. Hot, prickly animal need washes over me. The tightness in my chest expands to the breaking point, urging me onward.
Harder. Faster. Take him. Claim him.
I must have shouted in my mind. He flips me onto my back and the soft cape. Then he loses control. Again and again, he pumps into me hard until the initial pain eases, and it only feels good. Then he braces on one forearm, changes his angle of entry,and hits me differently, teasing my nipple with his mouth until I whimper and arch into him, begging for more.
“Tell me what feels good,” he pants. “Tell me everything.”
“This. You.” My fingers flex on his shoulders, still half covered in his shirt. “Just you.”
Somewhere, in a distant part of my mind, I know this changes everything, but I’m too far gone into lust to care. All I want is for this to last forever. Right now, he desires me. My eyes dip to the indents my teeth left on the area between his neck and shoulder.
Mark him. Deep. Make him bleed. Keep him.
I yank his collar aside. A possessive snarl lurches me forward, and I bite and pierce tender flesh. Hot, coppery blood spills into my mouth. Something primal inside me eases, something animal that wanted satisfaction. He’s mine now. All fucking mine. Fox releases a hoarse groan and slaps his hips against mine, fucking me relentlessly until another orgasm starts to build. I lose all sense of my limbs as stars converge in my vision.
“Fox,” I plead, grappling for purchase during his drives.
Horns erupt from his head. I grip them hard, anchoring myself against the primeval storm threatening to obliterate my being. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, hands cupping my head, sheltering me from the ground. Sharp pinpricks of pain beneath my jaw make me gasp. His fangs pierced my flesh—marking me too, branding me as his. Forever.
I combust with an earth-shattering cry as ecstasy consumes every fiber of my being. He rears back to witness my undoing, male satisfaction lurking in his eyes. Only after I’m done does he allow himself to come. He seats himself, drops his lips back to his mark, and rides out his pleasure, body trembling under my hands, groaning and grunting with labored breaths.
In an icy cave, we are a pile of hot, sweaty, tangled limbs. Half our clothes are on the ground—well, all of mine, half of his. His trousers are still around his thighs, and his shirt is crooked. His look of contentment hits me hard with affection. That savoring, relishing thing he does begins anew as he licks his way down from my lips to the aching wound at my neck.
“Mm.” Raspy laves against the mark. “Nice and high, so the others see who claimed you first.”
“What?” I press up on my elbows.
His mouth trails down my body on a one-way track to the single place I don’t think can take any more attention.
“When their memories return,” he explains. “I won’t be number one anymore. I’ll have to wait in line. So I want to remind them”—he nips my lower belly—“that I was here first.”
I scowl. “I won’t be bossed around. If I don’t want a line, then I don’t want one.”
His lips curve on my skin, and I realize I just admitted I’m open to having all of them.
He frowns and looks up at me. “Pet, I made you bleed.”
I blush and try to pull away. “That’s normal. It only happens for the first time.”
His palm flattens on my stomach and pins me down. “More firsts for me.”
