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"Not yet," he croaked. Hands on her hips now, he forced her to her feet, and positioned his mouth over her aching femininity. "Need a taste of you first."
He flicked out his tongue, wrenching an agonized groan from her. The pleasure...she let her head fall back. He licked and devoured while he prepared her with his fingers, moving one in and out of her. Then two. He scissored them, stretching her. And it was good, so good. All she could do was hold on to his horns and enjoy the ride, rocking, rocking, back and forth. Back and forth. Soon, incoherent words left her. Her muscles were tensing, readying for climax--
But he didn't let her have it. He stopped before the moment of no return, wringing a frustrated shout from her. Then he drew her to her knees once more, positioning the tip of his erection where she needed it most and feeding her another kiss, letting her taste the very pleasure he'd roused in her.
Gillian pressed down...slowly...slower, giving her body time to adjust. His fingers had prepared her, but his shaft...it was so big even the tip seemed to fill her up.
Sweat glistened on his brow. "Taking me so perfectly, wife."
The roughened tone caused a tide of arousal to drench his length, allowing her body to slide farther down. When Gillian perceived a white-hot burn, she stopped. Centuries had passed since she'd had--no! She'd never had a man inside her. What happened in her childhood did not count. Puck was right. This was her first time.
His grip on her flexed, as if he wanted to yank her down but resisted the urge. "Killing me, lass. Never felt...so good. But I need... I need..."
When he needed, she would give, always.
Gillian pressed down once again...the burn intensified...down. Finally, she had taken all of him. Puck expelled a breath.
One minute passed and--yes! The pain faded, and her muscles went lax.
Roaring, Puck thrust his hips up, and...oh! Oh! She'd had another inch to go, and it felt incredible. A stream of ecstasy sluiced through her.
Now he impaled her. Sweat slicked their chests, friction sparking every time she inhaled.
"You good, lass? Tell me you're good."
"Mmm. Very good." She moved. She had to move. Balanced on her knees, she rose up, up, then slid back down. Amazing. So she did it again, and again, tentatively at first but soon gaining confidence and speed.
"That's the way." He tightened his grip, guiding her up and down with more force, even forward and back. Missing his hands on her breasts, she cupped them and pinched her nipples. "The sight of you... The feel of you."
Nerve endings crackled, pressure built deep inside her...deeper still. "Puck," she cried. "Please."
*
My woman needs me to finish her.
Desire consumed Puck, so intense he had no perception of Indifference, had lost sight of the world around him. He could only focus on Gillian, his wife, a live wire of pure energy and raw passion, so hot and tight and wet as she rode him.
Moonlight bathed her, golden skin flushed, the runes in her hands glowing. Those whiskey eyes were alive, the kindling an unstoppable inferno.
Pride puffed his chest. I did this. Me.
With her head thrown back, her hair a dark stream framing her face, she was a vision. A goddess without equal. The incarnation of carnality.
"Let me," he said. With his cheek, he nudged her hands away and flicked his tongue over one nipple, then the other.
Breaths heaving, she rode his shaft faster, faster. Tension stole over him, collecting in each of his muscles, threatening to explode, or kill him. He'd be happy either way, would die with a smile.
"You are mine." His voice was thick and low, as much a growl as anything. "Say it."
"I'm yours. Yours. All yours."
That's my female. "Gonna make you come so hard, lass." He thrust up even as he drove her down, down, at the same time giving her nipple a little bite.
"Puck!"
Must taste my name on those lips. Mouth on her mouth. Tongues dancing together. He reached between their bodies and strummed where she ached most.
"Yes, yes!" Her entire being shook, her inner walls clenching around his shaft as she climaxed.
Puck became frenzied, pounding in and out of her...pounding...she felt so good, so right. Nothing had ever felt better, or more perfect. The pleasure was irresistible. Would he blow?
Heat at the base of his spine, radiating around his hips, collecting in his testicles. His body readied. Soon he would...he would...
Puck roared until his throat cracked, his voice going hoarse. He came and came and came inside her, his entire body bucking under the onslaught of bliss. And still he did not stop thrusting, did not stop jetting into his wife as she milked him, as if greedy for more--for all of him.
He'd waited so long for a woman to be his and his alone, had craved having the same female in his bed again and again. And yet, when he'd experienced multiple nights with another, he'd found the whole thing lacking. This? With Gillian? Not nearly enough. He wanted every night. Every morning. Every moment in between.
He hadn't known it at the time, but he'd waited for her, had craved her. Only her. A woman strong enough to feel when he could not. A woman unwilling to let him shut down his own emotions, who knew the rarity of joy, who would settle for nothing less.
Finally, when she'd wrung him dry, he collapsed, Gillian remaining draped over his chest.
*
That was...so...so...amazing! A revelation.
Gillian marveled. She'd just had sex. Wicked, mind-blowing, delicious sex. The kind in novels and movies. The kind she'd always wanted, but feared she'd never have, and she'd loved every second of it.
The right man had made all the difference, just as she'd suspected.
With Puck, pleasure had possessed her, driving her to new heights. And it--this--had forged a bond as strong as their vows. It must have. Gillian had never felt closer to her husband.
She lifted her head and caught Puck grinning. The sexiest grin she'd ever beheld. Also the most beautiful. His entire face lit up, warming her inside and out. And...and...and...
A tear suddenly slipped from the corner of her eye, surprising her. Ugh. Was she going to cry every time she had an orgasm?
It was just, this was another first. This beautiful act had once been a living nightmare because of bad, bad men. Finally, she was free!
Puck had owned her. Not her memories. Not her past. Puck. He'd owned all of her.
As a teenager, she remembered thinking she needed to have normal sex with a normal guy in order to feel normal herself. Puck was anything but normal. He was extraordinary and exactly what she'd needed.
And he's mine. For now.
How can I ever let him go?
Gentle, so gentle, he wiped her tears away. "What is this, my sweet wife?"
Pretending she wasn't feeling all kinds of vulnerable, she said, "I'm just... I'm happy. Not bad for my first time, eh?"
He combed his fingers through her hair, his need to touch her as strong as her need to touch him. "Woman, you have remade me." A pause, then, "I will hear your praise now. Tell me you'll replay this encounter. Tell me you'll remember your soft feelings for me, no matter what happens between us."
Remember...because he'd ditched his terms and planned to divorce her, after all?
Has to be this way. You know it.
Just...don't go there. Not yet. Chest constricting, she lifted her head, cupped his stubbled cheeks in her hand. "As if I could ever forget my soft feelings, or you. You are my..." What? Husband, yes. Life? Maybe. Family? Love?
I think... I think I do want his love. I think I want to love him back.
A war cry cut through the night--William's war cry.
In a blink, Puck had pulled out of her and maneuvered to his feet. She groaned, regretting the abrupt loss of him. Actually, regretting the loss of him period.
No time to waste. As she stood to unsteady legs and righted her skirt, then pulled on the rest of her clothes, Puck tied his pants and weaponed-up. Perfect timing.
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A blur of darkness slammed into him, propelling him into a tree.
Puck and William tumbled over the ground in a violent clash, one over the other. Somehow they managed to both injure and disarm each other.
Not that the fight was any less brutal without weapons. They began to use claws and teeth to inflict maximum damage.
"Stop," she commanded. "Now!"
"I thought I could deal with this." With his eyes glowing red, William looked like the incarnation of wrath. "For the first time in my life, I was wrong."
"She's my wife." Puck might not have red eyes, but savagery etched every inch of his face.
"Not for long."
Puck charged, head-butting William and reminding her of Peanut; only, Peanut had no horns. The protrusions gouged William's torso. Merciless, her friend grabbed her husband by the base of the neck and twisted, breaking his spine.
For one terrible minute, Puck was motionless. Just enough time for William to work himself free, and punt the other man in the face.
Her stomach protested. "I said enough!"
They ignored her, too busy rolling across the ground once again, striking at each other. Their growls blended together. Blood sprayed.
