He catches the front of my dress and pulls me upright into him, and I go, my mouth crashing into his. I taste myself on him and it only winds me higher. He kisses me deep and hungry, then breaks it to haul the dress up over my head and toss it somewhere behind him. My bra he doesn’t bother with. He hooks two fingers under the band and tears it clean off me. Then he flips me over onto my belly.
I look back at him over my shoulder with a soft hiss, more want than warning. He drags me up onto my knees by my hips, and I let him arrange me however he likes.
“Aaron.”
He wraps a hand around his dick and strokes himself slow, watching me, his other hand smoothing over the bare curve of my ass like he’s deciding where to begin. I swallow hard. He stays fixed on me, and the waiting is its own kind of unbearable.
Then he lines himself up and slides into me in one long push, and the breath punches out of me. He closes his eyes, his head tipping back, a grin breaking across his face like sinking into me is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. I feel every inch of him filling me, stretching me, and I gasp into the pillow.
He pulls almost all the way out and pushes back in, slow, dragging it out, and a moan spills out of me. My body’s still humming from the first time, oversensitive and greedy, and every slow stroke lands somewhere deeper for it. My own want takes over. I drop my head, grab the pillow off the headboard, and bite down on it.
I start backing onto him, working myself on his dick, chasing it. He lets me for about three strokes. Then he plants his hands on my hips and takes over, matching me thrust for thrust, giving me back everything I give him. It’s a fight. It’s skin on skin and both of us pushing, and it feels so good it’s almost cruel, a punishing kind of pleasure that whites out the edges of everything.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck, Aaron.”
He’s grunting behind me, low and filthy. “Yes. Fuck, yes.” His fingers dig into my hips. “Make me pass out, Mara.”
I throw myself back into him harder, and he gives it right back, harder still, until it’s just the slap of skin on skin and both of us fighting for control of it.
He’s winning.
And it feels so fucking good I don’t even care. I’m coming again before I’m ready for it, the orgasm rolling up out of nowhere, crossing my eyes. I sob into the pillow, bite down until my jaw aches. He doesn’t slow. He fucks me through it and into the next one, and the one after that, and somewhere in there I stop being a person with thoughts in her head. Sit down? I’ll sit down. Behave? I’ll behave. Whatever he wants, as long as he doesn’t stop, as long as he keeps wringing me out like this until I can’t remember my own name.
I come one more time and it takes everything I’ve got left. My arms give and I collapse forward into the mattress, boneless, my mouth open around his name with no sound behind it.
He follows me down, dragging his tongue slow up my sweat-damp back, and settles his weight over me with his mouth at my ear.
“I’m not done with you, baby.”
He flips me over onto my back.
“Aaron.” My voice is shot. “Let me rest. Please.”
He doesn’t answer. He spreads my legs and braces over me, and when he finally speaks his voice has gone soft in a way it hasn’t been this whole time.
“Make love to me, Mara. Baby.”
And then his eyes change. The black bleeds slowly out of them, brown washing back in, until it’s just Aaron looking down at me, warm and steady and mine.
He slides into me again and I gasp, but it’s different now. He moves slow and deep, rolling into me, taking his time, kissing me through all of it. He whispers into my mouth between strokes, how much he loves me, how there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for me, for me and our cubs.
“Aaron.” It’s all I can say. “Aaron.”
He keeps moving, slow and sure, kissing my cheek, the corner of my eye where the tears have slipped loose without my say-so. He catches them with his mouth, one after another.
“I love you, baby,” he murmurs against my wet cheek.
The tears come faster, and I can’t get a word out past his name. When I come this time it’s quiet, a long shudder that rolls through me and pulls a sob up with it. He kisses me through that too. A few strokes later he follows me over, his groan breaking against my neck, his hips stuttering, and I feel him pulse deep inside me. Then he comes down heavy on top of me, spent, and I wrap my arms around him and hold on.
His weight pins me to the bed and I don’t want him anywhere else. Our skin is slick where we’re pressed together, his heart slowing against me. Over his shoulder, through the window, the light has gone gold and low. The sun’s going down. We’ve been at this for hours, long enough that I lost the whole afternoon somewhere between his mouth and his hands, and I didn’t feel a minute of it pass.
His breathing goes deep and even against my neck. I don’t slip away right off. I stay where I am and watch him sleep awhile, the hard set of his face gone soft. Asleep, he’s soft and unguarded and entirely mine.
When I’m sure he’s all the way under, I slide out from beneath him by inches, careful, and ease off the bed.
My tail drags behind me, limp, dead weight across the floorboards. My lion’s still down deep in me, napping off whatever he did to her, and the tail won’t lift no matter how I will it to move. I shoot a glare back at Aaron, sprawled across our bed breathing slow and easy without a care in the world. The minute my lion wakes up, this tail is going right across that handsome face of his. He’s earned every bit of it.
I find a nightgown in the dresser and pull it on. My legs are unsteady under me, sore in a way I’ll be feeling tomorrow, and I take the stairs slow. Down in the kitchen I wash my hands at the sink and go looking for something to eat, because all at once I’m starving.
