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She banished the dark fear-fever from within his mind, allowing his lust to rise naturally as it bloomed hungrily within him as the dark hooks of the carnival receded. They would make this step together, and only together without anything else between or with them. She was finally his. And his mouth claimed hers with a growl, relishing her sweetness when she gasped and he plunged his tongue between her lips.
His at last.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
MaryAnne gasped against Raskyuil’s mouth, overwhelmed for a moment as his tongue speared between her lips, ravaging her and tasting her ravenously. His aggression was startling, but it tasted wholly of him, without the wrongness that had initially made her afraid as they made their way back through the carnival grounds.
She had felt the dangerous current. It had crept on them slowly like unseen fingers sliding through the night, drawing closer as they acquired their food, but it had still been faint enough that she hadn’t paid much attention to it until it rose like a maelstrom, seizing hold of him. For a moment there, he had seemed like someone else. It had frightened her.
Seeing the awareness come back into his eyes and feeling his touch gentle was nothing short of a relief. His hunger still broke over her like a tsunami, but there wasn’t an edge of madness. There was just desire that threatened to tear them both apart—and that she embraced with a rising excitement as her flood of desire soaked through her panties.
MaryAnne clung to Raskyuil, dizzy with lust. Her body arched in shock, bucking against him, and her eyes fluttered shut as she trembled at the electric brush of her nipples against his hard chest. Her fingers dug into his biceps, seeking to anchor herself as his thick tongue stroked against hers and his large hand supporting her ass squeezed as he growled into her mouth. She quivered, whimpering with need as he crushed her against him, her pussy rubbing against his hard abdomen. She trembled in his hold as the first ripple of pleasure took hold of her, rushing over her like a gust of hot wind.
Her fingers tightened, her fingernails digging in against the hard protrusions of his flesh. An approving growl rose from her troll as his soft tail lashed the back of her legs and bare ass. It even grazed what little of her sex that it could reach—the small part that wasn’t rocking against Raskyuil’s body as he learned hers. And what a deliciously educational experience it was turning out to be. For her as well as her untried body bloomed, eager for everything he had to give her.
Although this mating was, on one level, a pragmatic decision and the fulfillment of what she knew was an inevitability, her body was hungry for it to a degree that perhaps should have shocked her more. Undoubtedly it would have if she hadn’t felt the first stirrings of lust in response to his. It had tormented her, making her body more sensitive and eager with every day that passed. In retrospect, as she observed everything from the brink of the point of no return, it was little wonder that she had felt her need stir to life quickly. She had been unwittingly preparing for this moment all along.
Regardless of whatever necessity called her there to the carnival, fate had a funny way of getting exactly what it wanted: her body quivering as it yielded to Raskyuil’s touch. She was burning for him and wet with want that settled as an ache within her belly and between her thighs. His tail made another slower pass over her ass, and she shivered at the sinuous brush of fur. His claws lightly pricked her skin and his tongue slipped from her mouth with a gentle nip of his teeth grazing her bottom lip.
She whimpered, one arm curling around his neck as his head descended, dragging his hot lips and tongue against her neck. His teeth scraped, and her hips jerked against him, a tiny cry escaping her as her sex rippled with pleasure from where she’d been grinding it against his abs.
A primal growl rose from her troll as his nose brushed her neck and drew in her scent. She quivered with excitement at that sound. It should have terrified her—and perhaps on one level it did—but everything liquified within her into a pool of scorching desire. She needed what that growl promised. She didn’t want to think or be faced with making a decision. She wanted it all stripped from her so that she could luxuriate purely in what he offered her. She knew that he would stop if she asked. She knew that he would stop if he scented her fear rising in any genuine sense. That alone was what allowed her to trust him enough to surrender control to him completely.
There was something she needed to tell him though. The thought slipped from her mind completely, however, when his teeth clamped lightly on her shoulder, hard enough to be felt without breaking skin as he bore her down to the bed. She gasped at the sting, and her legs instinctively fell open as he laid her out beneath him. She blinked up at him in surprise when he suddenly stood, relinquishing his hold as he straightened to his full height.
Raskyuil loomed over her, one knee balanced on the bed as he stared down at her, a growl still rumbling in his chest as his thick cock jutted from between his thighs. Her eyes dropped down to it and widened. He was… not small.
Hell, he wasn’t even average or generously endowed. He was fucking huge. It made her pause as she stared at it. Common sense reared its ugly head and demanded to know how the hellthatwas going to fit in her.
It was thick and long, a darker shade of green that the rest of his skin, the head of it plump with small rings of ridges that completely surrounded it, emphasizing it. It almost looked ruffled, which made her tongue glue to the roof of her mouth as she examined the head. From there his cock was bumpy, bulging with firm, raised bumps amid thick veins that ran up its length. It flexed and seemed to almost swell as she stared, and MaryAnne swallowed nervously, her eyes dropping to his equally large dark green sack.
There was no fucking way. Not without something to help it along.
She remembered then what she needed to tell him. Miraculously, her tongue dislodged from the roof of her mouth so that she could sweep it nervously over her lips, dampening them. “I… in my pocket. There’s a small pot from Nivira. Easing ointment, she called it. I… I think she was right. We’re going to need it. I… I’ve never done this before,” she admitted, her cheeks warming under his scrutiny.
His growl deepened then, a raw, lustful sound that made her eyes shoot up to his face. Heat burned in his dark eyes as he watched her, but to her relief he nodded, and his knee slid off the bed as he turned back to her discarded clothing with a swish of his tail. Bending, he snatched her pants up off the ground and slipped two of his thick fingers into her pocket to draw out the small pot tucked in there. He looked down at it, and his fingers curled around it as his head turned in her direction. A possessive, unholy light lit his eyes as he stalked toward her, his tail swaying behind him.
The bed shifted with his weight as he kneeled upon it once more, and she blushed when his nose dropped down to her belly, his dark hair slipping forward over his shoulders to trail against her skin. He inhaled deeply before dropping lower down her body so that it brushed against the curls between her legs. He rumbled hungrily, and his dark tongue—far longer and thicker than any human tongue now that she was treated to a look at it—extended from his mouth and swiped against her pussy.
MaryAnne’s hips shot up, a cry of pleasure breaking from her just as he captured her hip in one hand and pushed her firmly back down against the bed. He followed her down as he did so, burying his face between her legs even as his thick tongue moved against her sex, lapping at her, sliding into her, teasing her folds and clit as if he were trying to taste every part of her.
His lips caressed her clit again, and she cursed as she felt a tightening pleasure within her core as they plucked at her clit with small sucking kisses before he took the entire bud into his mouth. Her thighs shook as she gave another cry. Then he was lapping at her again, drinking in her essence with eager little sounds seconds before his hand tightened on her and his tongue parted her pussy’s lips and drove deep.
The invasion of his slick tongue would have probably brought her off the bed entirely if he hadn’t been holding her to it. Under the hard band of his hand, she writhed, panting frantically as his tongue licked inside of her, wiggling slightly as it pressed eagerly against her channel walls. The sounds coming from him were wet and ravenous, and she was left to twist helplessly in his grip, her hips bumping as much as she was able as his tongue stroked in and out of her, spurring another climax before it slipped out to stroke against the sensitive flesh. She jerked against his hold at the vibration of a single guttural word growled against her sex.
“Mine.”
His dark eyes rose and met hers as he lifted his head, his silky dark hair pooling on her thighs. The corners of his mouth curled. It wasn’t a smirk—it was far too possessive to be anything even remotely playful. It was satisfaction and dominance in that smile. As if he knew that he branded her flesh intimately in that moment. She panted as she stared back at him and shivered as his thumb dragged up her slit to her clit, making small circles around it.
“My little human,” he rasped, and his dark tongue swept over his lips, capturing the lingering taste of her. “So delicious and so very mine. I’m going to mark you so thoroughly inside and out that there will never be any doubt of who you belong to.”
“And you?” she breathed. “Who do you belong to?”
A tortured sound escaped him, a look of bliss filling his eyes. “To you and only you. Since the moment I scented you. Since the first night you haunted me. Since the moment you told me off with that sweet little mouth, I have been yours and yours alone.” His eyes left hers trailing down her body. “I’m yours to use as you desire, here to worship you every night as you deserve for the rest of our lives.” His eyes fastened on her pussy, and he licked his lips again, his tongue sliding over his sharp teeth and long fangs. He grinned then, and his eyes lit up when they met hers. “Such a pretty little cunt,” he rumbled as he brushed a claw over it, making her hips twitch. “I will take very good care of this, my mate.”
Picking up the small pot back from the bed where he’d apparently dropped it, he popped the lid off and carefully dabbed two fingers in it. The ointment looked like a strange yellow grease. His claws on those two fingers retracted as he looked at it and smeared it between his fingers. He stared, the moment stretching uncomfortably long until suddenly a look of satisfaction came to his face and he lowered his hand between her legs, stroking those fingers over folds.
She was aware first of an incredible coolness against her heated flesh, but one that left behind a tingle of pleasurable heat in its wake. She sighed happily as he worked it slowly into her folds, dipping into her channel, massaging it into her as he stretched her with his fingers. She whimpered and started rocking into his strokes. It felt so incredible. As the sting of the stretch ebbed, her pleasure began to grow rapidly. The slick sounds of her sex filled the room, and she rocked against his hand faster as a fire ignited within her, opening her eagerly to him as he slid a second finger into her, and then a third, easing her open for him.
