Page 16 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

My omega is practically rolling over in my mind, presenting herself with shameless need. The same instincts that are melting down about how scary he looks aren't just shutting the fuck up, they're purring as he lavishes attention on my throat.

His tongue doesn't stop there.

Still operating on pure feral instinct, he trails lower, following the line of my collarbone. His massive hands move to my waist, lifting me as if I weigh nothing, repositioning me on the blanket as he lowers himself toward my pussy.

My inner omega is screaming.

DANGER. PREDATOR. TEETH.

I don't give a fuck.

I arch into him.

His hands shake as they drag my skirt down, clumsy and desperate, running on something older than thought.

When his tongue finds me I bite my own hand to keep from screaming.

There's no barrier of a normal mouth, nothing between me and the heat of him but the points of his teeth. The first drag of his tongue is almost curious.

The second one isn't.

My fingers fist in the blanket and my thighs fall open wider. He makes a low, hungry sound against me that I feel in my fucking spine.

"Fuck… Wraith…"

I crane my neck to see what he's doing.

His eyes are open.

But they aren't looking at anything. They're a flat grayish blue, completely empty, even as his tongue keeps lapping at me.

"Wait—"

I push up. My thighs start to close.

That's all it takes.

My skin gives against sharp teeth, high on the inside of my thigh, and I gasp at the bright hot line of pain and the blood already trickling down my leg from several small cuts.

The static drains out of his eyes between one breath and the next. They sharpen and focus, then drop to my thigh, to the red welling up out of my skin.

He's back.

Just in time to see what he thinks he's done.

His hands fly up to cover his face, a strangled sound ripping from his damaged throat. He scrambles backward so fast he nearly tears through the tent wall, desperately trying to hide himself from me, frantically fingerspelling the same words over and over one-handedly.

H-U-R-T… YOU.

H-U-R-T… YOU.

H-U-R-T… YOU.

"No!" I lunge forward and grab his arms. "Wraith, stop! It's okay!"

He's already trying to turn away, to flee into the storm, but I throw myself into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Please," I beg him, pressing my forehead to his. "Please don't leave. You didn't hurt me. I promise. You're mine, Wraith. All of you. Your feral nature, your… your scars, everything, all mine. I love you."