Page 39 of Fated to the Gargoyle

She comes again with my name breaking apart in her mouth. Another follows, and this one gushes over my tongue, her release soaking my mouth and running warm down my wrists while she tries to squirm out of my hands and can’t. I lap her through it, and the sound she makes is better than any treasure I ever stood a post over.

When I finally lift my head and settle her back on the mattress, she lies limp, one arm flung over her face, her breathing the loudest thing in the room.

“Lord,” she breathes. “Have mercy.”

I slide my arms under her and sit her up against my chest, and she flops there and stays put. I work her dress up over her head, careful with my claws. She chose this dress for me, and it will not die in my hands. The bra is another matter. My claws were built for boulders, not clasps, so I hook one through the band and tear it off her.

“Hey!” She swats my chest with no force at all. “You better be glad you gave me that treasure chest, because my underwear is not cheap.”

“I will buy you a hundred more,” I tell her.

“You don’t even know where the mall is.” She laughs at her own joke, tired and bright.

I lay her back down. Her brown skin shines warm in the low light, and I take one long look at what fate gave me. Then I bend and press my forehead to hers.

“You will never want for anything while I stand,” I vow against her skin. “I swear it on everything I have ever guarded.”

Her hands come up and hold my face, her thumbs stroking under my eyes. “Make love to me, Soren. It’s okay to be nervous. I’ve got you.”

My mate is bare on a bed under a monster, and she’s the one doing the steadying.

I straighten off the bed and unwrap the loincloth, and it drops somewhere near her panties. When I take myself in my fist, even my own hand is almost too much. My mate is watching me from the sheets, thighs still trembling, her scent thick in the air of our first home, and I have never in my long life been wound this tight.

I slide her down the mattress to the edge of the bed, where the frame stands tall enough to meet me, and I line myself against her heat.

“Slow,” she whispers.

I press the tip into her, and the room falls away, every watch I’ve ever stood collapsing down to the one place we touch.

Heat swallows the first inch of me, slick and tight. I want to tell her she’s doing beautifully. Nothing comes out. My hands shake against her hips.

She winces, a small tight pull at the corner of her eye.

I stop.

I’ve held still under hammers. Holding still inside my mate is harder, and I do it anyway while her body works at the size of me. Her breath stutters, then evens. Her hands close over my wrists where I hold her hips, her face smooths out, and her hips tilt up for more.

I give her more, a little at a time, watching her face for every flicker. I retreat and return deeper, she stretches around me, and the sounds she makes go from careful to hungry. At last my hips meet her thighs, and I am seated fully inside my mate.

We both go quiet.

“Oh my god.” Her hands flex on my forearms. “It’s all in.”

“Treasure.” Her name is the only word I have left.

“I know, baby.” Her heels hook behind me. “Go.”

My control breaks all at once, and I go.

I pull back and drive into her, and her cry rings off the cabin walls. There’s no fear anywhere in her scent, only heat, only want, and mine mine mine beats through me in time with my hips. The new bed holds. Barely.

Her pussy grips me from root to tip, soaked with everything my tongue made her give, and every stroke comes back to me glazed with her. The wet sound of us fills the cabin louder than the bedframe. I look down and watch myself disappear into my mate, her body taking what she swore would end her, and the sight nearly finishes me on its own.

I fuck my mate with all that waiting behind every stroke, deep rolling drives that drag her up the mattress until my claws catch her hips and haul her back onto me, and she takes all of it, screaming my name while her pussy grips me in long milking pulls.

“Soren— oh my god— Lord, this dick⁠⁠—”

Her back bows clean off the bed, and the rush of her release soaks us both. I have to hold still inside her or spill before she’s done. My tongue rolls out and drags up her body, through the sweat between her breasts. I lick one, then the other, while she shudders and claws at my arms, and another climax rolls over the last.