"So wet," he murmured, his voice low and rough. His thumb circled me, applying the slightest pressure. Enough to make me gasp. To make my hips lift, seeking more, even as tears welled from the emotional storm tearing me apart inside.
He gave it to me, increasing the pressure. Increasing the pace. His other hand pressed against my lower belly, holding me down, controlling my movements while he worked me with expert precision. I surrendered to his dominance, giving him this, letting him lead, and it was undoing me.
"Elias," I gasped again, not sure what I was asking for, my voice breaking on the edge of unbearable need.
But he knew. Gods, he knew exactly.
Two long fingers slid inside me, filling me. Stretching me. The perfect combination of pain and pleasure that made me cry out, the sound echoing through the room. My hands found his wrist, holding on while he fucked me with his fingers, his thumb never stopping the delicious torture on my clit. It hurt, that initial stretch, but the pleasure built over it, pulling me under.
"That's it," he growled. "Take what you need, little witch."
I couldn't have stopped if I wanted to. My body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation. With need. I could feel something building inside me. Something huge and terrifying and inevitable, like I was about to shatter into a million pieces under his hands.
"I...I can't..." I panted, releasing his wrist to press the heel of my hand against my forehead, like I could somehow hold back the explosion coiling tighter and tighter in my core.
"You can," he commanded, his voice steady, brooking no argument. "Look at me, Talin."
I forced my eyes open, met his dark gaze, pupils blown wide with desire and something deeper, something that made my heart clench.
"You're mine," he said, voice steady and sure. "Your pleasure is mine. Your body is mine. You, little witch, are mine."
The possessive declaration, coupled with another curl of his fingers inside me, sent me spiraling over the edge. "Oh gods…"
I came hard, my inner muscles clamping down on his fingers, my body shaking and sweat-slicked as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. Above me, Elias growled, fangs bared as he rode out my orgasm, drawing out every last ounce of ecstasy until I was limp and gasping beneath him. The release was shattering, emotional as much as physical, tears streaming down my face from the intimacy of it all.
Only then did he slowly withdraw his fingers, lift them to his mouth, and suck them clean, his eyes never leaving mine.
I moaned aloud as I watched him, the sight of him licking my arousal from his skin sending a fresh wave of heat through me, even as I felt exposed and wrung out.
He prowled up my body, caging me in with his arms. His cock was a hot, hard brand against my thigh, but he made no move to take his own pleasure. Just stared down at me, eyes searching, like he was assessing if I was ready for more.
"You are the most incredible thing I've ever seen," he said softly. "Watching you come for me..." He shook his head, like he couldn't find the words, but his gaze was intense, demanding I believe him.
I could barely find my breath, my emotions a whirlwind of gratitude and lingering fear. "I want to see you too."
Surprise flickered in his eyes. Then he pushed back to sit on his heels again. One hand braced on my thigh, his other hand went to his cock, stroking slowly from root to tip, showing me what he liked.
I watched, mesmerized, as he pleasured himself. His fist tight around his length, thumb circling the broad head on each upstroke. A bead of moisture gathered at the tip and rolled down the side, his breath growing ragged. Seeing this powerful male touch himself, knowing it was because of me, sent another surge of desire through me—like I hadn't just had the most intense orgasm of my life mere minutes ago. It made me feel desired, whole, overriding my deepest insecurities.
I sat up, pushing his hand away so I could replace it with my own. He was hot and hard in my fist, skin like velvet over steel. I stroked him tentatively at first, then with more confidence when he groaned his pleasure, his head falling back and his hips lifting into my touch. The power shift thrilled me, but he still held the reins, his hand covering mine briefly to guide the pace.
"Talin," he growled my name like a warning, his control fraying at the edges.
But I wanted more. Wanted to feel him inside me. To know what it was like to be filled by him. Claimed by him.
I released his cock and lay back, holding his gaze as I opened my legs. Inviting him in, even as my heart raced and I swallowed down my fear.
His nostrils flared, breath coming faster. Hungrier. But he didn't rush—always in control.
"Are you sure?" he rasped, his voice tight with restraint.
I nodded, my throat thick with emotion. "I need to feel you."
His large body covered mine again, his weight pressing me into the mattress in a way that felt protective, possessive. The head of his cock nudged my entrance, hot and insistent, and I tensed, the reality crashing in. This would hurt. I knew it. But I wanted it anyway.
His eyes held mine as he pushed inside, just the barest inch, before withdrawing slightly and pushing in again. A little further this time. Then again, each slow thrust taking him deeper, controlled and measured. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, and his large body trembled above me as his mouth opened on a hiss, his fangs growing longer before my eyes.
I gasped at the intrusion, the sensation of being filled and stretched almost too much. There was pain—a burning, stinging sensation that made me tense beneath him, my nails digging into his shoulders as tears welled again. My body resisted at first, the stretch unfamiliar and sharp, making me wonder if I could take it. Fear gripped me, and I tried to breathe through it.
