Slower this time, deeper.I keep my hands where she places them.Waist.Back.Hips when she asks without words, arching into me with a shiver that nearly ruins all my good intentions.
“Bedroom?”I ask.She nods, and I lift her into the air, her legs locking around my waist.
I carry her to the bed and set her down like she is not fragile, but precious in a way that has nothing to do with breaking.I stay above her on my hands, giving her space beneath me, enough room to move, to breathe, to say no.
She looks up at me, hair spread across the pillows, my mark bright on her shoulder.
“I’m scared,” she says.
“I know.”
“But I still want you.”
My control fractures.Not enough to hurt her, but enough to let her see.My eyes go black.My horns press beneath the skin but don’t break through.The beast looks at her, and Briana doesn’t flinch.
She touches my face.“Hi,” she whispers to him.
The beast goes still.Completely, and then he bows.I lower my forehead to hers, shaking.“You undo me.”
“Oh.Well, that’s...”her words fade away.
I laugh, rough and ruined, and kiss her again.
What comes next is soft, slow, and impossibly gentle, something I never thought myself capable of.Each movement is deliberate, shaped by the ache of old wounds and the promise that nothing will hurt her here.My hands glide over her skin, worshipping every inch, fingertips tracing the delicate curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, the sensitive inside of her thigh.I take my time, letting her feel the heat of my mouth and breath, letting each kiss linger until she shivers beneath me.
Not because I want it slow, because slow is killing me.But because Briana deserves every second, every breath, every tender touch, every whispered praise that honors her strength and her scars.
I learn where she tenses and where she melts, the bond between us singing with every shift in her breath.Her arousal and need echo through me, shared, amplified, and impossible to ignore.
My mouth brushes the mark on her shoulder, then trails down, kissing over her ribs, her stomach, until I settle between her thighs.I look up at her, wanting her to see me, to know exactly what I’m about to do.
“You’re perfect,” I whisper, kissing the inside of her knee and her trembling thigh.“I want to worship you.”I press my mouth to her pussy, slow and devoted, my tongue stroking until she cries out, her hips lifting.Every sound she makes is a benediction, every moan a command I obey.
Between breaths, I praise her, my voice rough with awe.“So good for me, Briana.Let me have all of you.Let me show you how perfect you are.”
She likes my hands, the way they worship her, and wants the light on.She can say ‘wait’ and then return to ‘yes,’ her eyes brighter, her courage shining.
I ask, and she answers.Again and again and again.
The room fills with the scent of us, smoke and rain and woman and beast, until the bond between us hums, alive and electric, under our skin.Her need grows, fierce and bright, drowning out fear, and she reaches for me.Her hands slide into my hair, her hips arching into my touch, wordlessly begging.I answer her with my mouth and my fingers, moving in time with the rhythm her body demands, letting her feel how desperately I want her, how much I crave every sound she makes.
When she finally gives herself to me, it’s with my name on her lips and her hands holding my face like she wants to keep me human and monster both.
I sink into her slowly, feeling her body open for me, the bond flaring so hot and bright I almost lose myself.We move together, each thrust slow and deep, every sensation magnified by the supernatural thread tying us together.
“You take me so well, angel,” I murmur against her breast.“Such a perfect little mate.”
I move with reverence, as if she’s sacred, letting the heat of my need burn slow and sweet.
I let her set the rhythm, her body teaching mine how to move slowly, sweetly, never overwhelming her.The bond opens wider with every breath, every touch, every needful sound she tries to swallow, until I kiss the corner of her mouth and praise her.
“Don’t hold back, mate,” I say, my gaze locked on her.“I want to hear every perfect little sound.”Every moan, every gasp, every desperate plea she gives me is a gift I worship.
“You are so beautiful.”I kiss her deeply, unable to stop myself.“Your body was made for me.”
“Knox,” she moans, her head thrown back in pleasure.
“Yes, Briana.”My words are lost in her moans.“Let me make you feel good.Let me give you pleasure.”
