The sensation triggers a wave of pleasure, my body milking the feeling, aching for more, clenching around the head of his erection as I shatter around him.
My body sucks and clenches at him, desperate to pull him inside. My ass tightens around his finger, pulsing, ravenous for more. The heat, the pressure of his release, the razor-thin control—it snaps. A second orgasm shatters me, more devastating than the first.
I let out a litany of nonsense, moans and half-uttered words falling from my lips until I scream out, “Fuck!” so loud it echoes in the cave pulling an answering deep rumbling from his chest, half-way between a growl and a chuckle.
My head drops to his chest as my focus coalesces to the point where we are barely joined. The exotic sight of his shaft illuminated by the living waters, barely penetrating me but held back by his incredible restraint, has me moaning and scrabblingat his chest for purchase, trying anything I can to pull him further into me.
His mighty roar echoes through the caves, hot, thick ropes of his seed surging into my channel, his orgasm endless, filling me, the heat pulsing inside of me like a living thing, branding me from the inside in a way that feels irreversible.
My body absorbs the heat, the sensation lingering like a slow burn beneath my skin. Like it’s sinking in, changing me. The realization makes my breath catch, my vision hazy with the aftermath. I should feel satisfied. But I don’t.
Because I already want more.
With a deep growl, he stalks over and balances me on the slick stone edge of the pool. My legs tremble as he throws one ankle 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 at the increased fullness with two of his large fingers but he doesn’t stop. Thank the gods 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 liquidpleasure 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 as waves of pleasure cascade over me.
He holds me through it, strong arms anchoring me to him.
When I collapse against him, wrecked and boneless, he eases my leg back down and murmurs something soft in a language I don’t know.
His breathing is still rough, ragged, but when I finally find some small bit of energy to pull my head away from his chest and look up at him, his eyes are already on me.
I shiver, not from the cold, but from knowing that this was only the beginning. And I won’t leave this cave untouched. I won’t leave the same at all.
I called him a beast in a gilded cage of restraint. But maybe I was never meant to stand outside the bars. Maybe I was meant to break them. Because I keep telling myself I shouldn’t want this, that I shouldn’t want him. But I do. I want to claw and bite and take just as much as I want to be taken.
He may have held back from fully wrecking my body tonight, but something tells me he’s already ruined something deeper. Because the way he looks at me? Like he’s been waiting for me just as much as I’ve been waiting to be free?
My body was never the thing in danger.
My heart is what’s doomed.
Chapter Eighteen
Eryon
Icarry her from the water, her body sated with pleasure and limp with exhaustion. She is warm, but I do not trust it. The cold already tried to steal her from me once and may even now be tunneling its icy claws deep into her.
Humans are fragile things, and I will not lose her to something as preventable as a chill. As her skin pebbles, my nervousness has me increasing my body temperature until her skin turns pink.
I tell myself that is why I do not set her down. Not because she smells like me now—winter and woods mixed with the first Spring sunrise that is her essence. Not because of the divine way her body feels pressed against my skin. And definitely not because the taste of her is still bursting on my tongue like a ripe berry, yet I am already hungry again.
