I didn’t answer. I was too occupied noting the scent of my seed clinging to her thighs, the evidence of what we’d built between us. When I spread her apart the flesh was a deeper pink—bordering on red. We may have overindulged slightly.
I massaged gently with my fingertips.
Her muffled snores followed almost immediately.
She was constantly underestimating me.
I dipped lower, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. Still wet. Still swollen. Responsive even in sleep.
Her head jerked until she lay on her cheek, part of her face exposed.
“There you are,” I murmured, guiding the blunt head between her lips.
The rut was still intense—that deep, insistent pull that had no interest in patience—but I curbed the animalistic need. Not yet.
Her heat drew me in. I held her hip and rested my hand at her nape.
“Yes,” she whispered, still half-asleep.“Oh, yes. Right there.”
Her muscles tightened around that spot. I held it for a moment before I began to move—slow, deliberate pumps aimed precisely, watching her start to squirm beneath me.
Then I wrapped both hands around her neck and lifted, bending her back until her spine arched. The moment her lips were close enough I took them—kissing and driving into her simultaneously while her fingers clawed at my clothing.
I didn’t stop.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
My knot began to echo through her room.
The acoustics were quite extraordinary.
It might have been the double glazing. Possibly the high ceiling.
Her gasps and pants were muffled against my lips. I kept my grip on her neck. I moved faster, hauling her higher until her hands braced on her knees.
“Awake now, aren’t you?” I growled against her cheek.“Taking my cock like a bad little mate.”
She tried to nod. My grip was too firm.
I drove harder. She was still clenching—that beautiful, maddening tightness that wouldn’t allow my knot entry.
“Let. Me. In,” I growled, each word landing with a thrust.
Another contraction.
I loosened my grip and felt her muscles ease in response.
“That may have been my fault,” I rasped, catching my breath.“I forgot how much you love getting choked out.”
I couldn’t see her face but her snort said everything. I kissed the top of her head and soldiered on—with stamina, with fearlessness, and with the quiet certainty of a man who had waited years for exactly this.
The heat between us was filthy. Sweat and seed and everything in between. I couldn’t get enough of her. I doubted I ever would.
“Open for me, my love,” I whispered.
Please, Kael added, privately.
She relaxed—by degrees, then all at once—and this time I squeezed in.
