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I explore his mouth, its smoothness, its addicting flavor. I nibble his lip, accidentally biting too hard. I taste blood.
Startled, he pulls back, his hand flying to his mouth.
“Sorry!”
“You show me strength coupled with weakness,” he says, shaking his head from side to side. “I’m afraid I’ll never understand you.”
“Saying sorry isn’t weak. It’s polite.”
He growls, pulling me to his mouth again. This time, he nibbles my chin, my jaw, the lobe of my ear. He peels my dress down, exposing my breasts, and in one swift motion, he lifts me and lies me flat on the furs, his mouth never leaving me.
He works his way down the column of my throat, pulling my dress over my hips, refusing to let it stay on me while he indulges in my body.
When he gets to my breasts, to my horror, he stops, gazing at them with curiosity.
“Don’t tell me you’re unmated too,” I say nervously.
He chuckles. “No, I’m well mated. You’re just…so soft.”
“Is that so different from the women you’ve been with?”
“They’re softish here,” he caresses one of my breasts, “though not so jiggly. My people see soft as being weak, but on you, it’s…decadent. Like sweet bread and honeyed jam.”
Inwardly I glow, pleased with his desire for me, though threats of cannibalism still loom in the back of my mind.
He brings his large hands to my breasts, kneading them, bringing my nipples to stiff peaks. His touch is like nothing I’ve ever felt before, eliciting sensations I’ve only felt whispers of.
A moan tumbles from my lips and his face softens, his eyes growing half-lidded with lust. I’ve seen this look before, though never directed at me.
He squeezes one of my breasts. “Have you ever been kissed here?”
I bite my lower lip and shake my head from side to side.
He presses his lips to one peak, then the other, kissing them worshipfully, groaning as though they are to be treasured. My fingers thread his hair, as his kisses turn from chaste to greedy, claiming my nipples with adept lips that are hungry for my flesh.
I close my eyes and let the unfamiliar waves of pleasure wash over me, chasing away thoughts of Melgrim, slavers, and exiles. It’s not how I’d expected to step out of maidenhood, but there could be no better person than Grixis guiding me through bliss.
His large hands cover so much of my body, making me feel small. No wonder he called me weak. I’m a twig compared to him.
“So soft,”he murmurs, his rough palm gently caressing my stomach, roaming lower, lower, over my navel to the stretch of fabric hiding the patch of hair between my legs.
My breath seizes in my throat. I consider pushing him away, but my life must now be full of unimaginable compromises.
And as his mouth roves my flesh, the hesitation I once felt leaves my body.
That I should want this man is absurd. He’s massive, terrifyingly strong, and harsh with his words. But he’s also surprisingly tender.
He sits up, his mouth finally disconnecting from my body, and slides my undercloth down my legs. Then he removes the rest of his clothes.
“You’ll be careful, right?”
“For my weak one, I will be gentle.”
I catch a quick glimpse of his cock before squeezing my eyes closed, and I’m shocked anew.
He’s huge. Obscenely so. Not just in length. In every way it can be.
If I had to guess, I’d say it’s as long and as big around as my arm.
