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"I'm…not afraid," I manage. It's true. Even when he's looming over me like this, I have no fear of him. Never have. Maybe it's because I can feel how he thinks of me—his thoughts bleed into my own. I can feel how much he likes looking at me, how possessive he feels, how adoring. How he's never dreamed of something as perfect as me as his mate.
I can't be afraid when that litany is going through my head. When I feel how he feels as if his thoughts are my own.
Why would you be afraid? I adore everything about you. His mouth trails across my shoulder blade and I stop fighting, because I love the feel of his lips on my skin. It's not a kiss—more like a tasting. Let me worship my mate's body. Let me claim you as mine. Let me show you how much I need you. His tongue grazes a ticklish spot on my back. Let me show you how much pleasure I can give you.
That decides me. It's not that he wants to give me pleasure—it's that I can feel in his thoughts just how exciting the thought is to him. Like his pleasure is secondary to mine. That me coming is far more exciting than his own climax.
No woman in her right mind could resist such a thing, and I'm not about to be the first.
Mhal laughs, and I can feel it rather than hear it. It echoes in my mind, sweet, dancing amusement. He continues to move down my back, pressing his lips and tongue to my skin. You are greedy when it comes to me. I like that. I will give you plenty of my attention, do not worry. We will mate, and it will be glorious. Then, when you are spent and your cunt is full of my seed, I will shift to my battle form and we will get far away from here.
Away? "I think I have to stay—"
He interrupts my thoughts by putting his mouth on my buttock and licking the underside of one cheek. It's such a blatant move—and a distraction—that I squirm and make a wordless noise that might be protest, might be encouragement.
It is encouragement, Mhal tells me, all arrogance once more.
Okay, him being in my mind can get kind of annoying. I can't even hide how I'm feeling when his mouth is on me.
Why would you hide it? As your mate, my duty is to pleasure you, thoroughly and deeply. If I am not doing something you like, I wish to know. Did you like it when I licked your cunt? Or did you prefer my fingers?
His question is so blatant as it echoes through my mind that I whimper.
Ah, he says, and answers his own question by picking through my thoughts. You liked my mouth on your clit. I will remember that. Can I lick you now? Back here? He eases his weight off of me and lifts my hips off of the ground, like I'm a doll he's posing for his pleasure…and I let him, like the shameless thing I am. I can smell how wet you are. You are making my mouth water. He presses his face against my backside, rubbing his mouth over my skin. I can lick you until you come again, and then I will claim you. Yes? Or do you want me to push into you and make you come like that? You decide.
His questions come with a mental barrage of images, of me bent under him, him feeding his cock into me from behind, of him with his mouth between my thighs and him making the most obscene noises as he tastes me. It's overwhelming and I can't stop the whimpers I make.
You are having trouble deciding? he teases. My greedy, greedy mate. I will give you all of it many, many times over. For now, shall I decide, then?
I nod, utterly entranced. My mouth feels glued shut, no words rising to my throat.
You do not need words with me. I can feel your thoughts. Mhal puts a heavy hand on the back of my neck, lowering my shoulders even as he pushes his cock between my spread legs and rubs himself against my folds. I will not burn you this time. You smell like my fires now, so good and sweet. Now your body will be ready for mine.
He drags his cock through my folds, and the sensation is breathtaking. He does it again, thrusting against my body, and when the tip of his cock rubs against my clit, it sends fierce pleasure barreling through me. I suck in a breath, closing my eyes, and giving in to the sensations.
Even with my eyes shut, I can “see” everything. Mhal's mind is broadcasting exactly what he's doing to me, and I'm fascinated by it. He runs his hands over my backside, one hand with long, deadly claws and the others shorn. He caresses my skin, fascinated at the way my butt jiggles when he touches me, but more fascinated with the feel of my cunt against his cock. I'm so wet, and now my scent is a mixture of his fires and my sweetness. It's like a drug to his senses, and it overwhelms him with how good it is.
