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“Sweet and responsive, but doesn’t listen,” he growled, delivering a sharp slap to her pussy.
Her hips canted up and a shocked gasp left her, her entire body lighting up like a live wire seconds before his first two fingers, his claws retracted, drove into her pussy, setting her world on fire. She leaned against the counter of the game booth, panting as his fingers plunged into her, sending jolts of pleasure scattering through her body. She leaned into his touch, wanting more, and gasped in dismay when his hand suddenly pulled free and he stepped back, releasing his hold on her.
She blinked up at him, trying to gather two thoughts together through the fever-lust as he watched her with a masked expression, only the heat smoldering within his eyes giving him away.
“Strip, little mate, and remind me of what is mine and what I’m caring for and protecting.”
MaryAnne trembled in place and took a nervous glance around. He wanted her to strip naked in the middle of the carnival? Granted, her pants were already halfway down her legs, but it was still a far cry from being completely naked and vulnerable.
“Here?”
He chuckled, the deep sound rolling over her. “There is no one here to see, especially not in this fog. And even if someone were to venture out into it, I would scent them long before they would be able to see anything.” He brushed his hand briefly against her cheek. “Do not be afraid to honor me with your vulnerability. I would destroy the world for you.”
Well, when he put it like that…
Her tongue swiped over her lips nervously, but she nodded. She trusted him. She wanted all of him, his protection and his ferocity. She even wanted the tiny thrill she felt growing inside of her at the thought of doing something that felt so naughty. Her fingers teased the hem of her tunic for only a moment before tugging it over her head.
He was hers. This moment pushed it home to her that she finally had someone she could trust with herself. She could be vulnerable with him in a way she couldn’t be with any other.
And it was freeing.
ChapterThirty-Five
Raskyuil’s eyes followed every article of clothing she willingly stripped from her body. If she had balked, if he had scented her fear even a little, he would have stopped her and carried her away to the privacy of their tent. Instead, he was biting back a moan of pleasure as he tasted and scented her desire ripening for him.
His hand slipped down to her bare hip, drawing her forward and anchoring her against him as his free hand stroked the smooth column of her neck and settled there. His head dipped, the tip of his nose brushing her hair, and he inhaled and drew her fragrance in. She shivered again, but this time it was with a deep unfurling of desire rising through her perfume.
Her body recognized him and yielded to him instinctively, but he knew now that he wanted more than what Ha’shena offered him. He had resisted the call to mate foolishly, believing that he was protecting himself from having such a weakness. But now that the bonding process had begun, he craved her even more.
It seemed impossible to crave with such longing. To desire a connection of hearts beyond the instinctive desire to mate. He wanted her heart as well. He wanted all of her. If he were to be conquered so entirely by his female, then he wished for her to be his queen and slake her every desire upon him. To need him and fulfill something that had lain empty within him for far too long. It was like some unknown part of him was waiting to come alive, and all it would take was a spark of love to change everything for him, filling the hollow places within his heart. He wanted that… desperately.
“You asked me if I believed that love was powerful and could be transformative,” he rumbled quietly as he began to pet her flank with long, tender strokes.
MaryAnne shivered beneath his touch but nodded quickly, her gaze snapping toward him. “I remember. You said that you were not sure what you believed.
“I’ve had some time to think on it… and I’ve changed my mind,” he rasped. “It is strangely powerful in ways I never anticipated. And I find that, with every day that passes, it is something that I’ve grown to covet.”
His nose trailed lower, brushing behind her ear and dipping lower yet. He dragged his tongue along her throat in a slow stroke, her flavor bursting over the sensitive receptors in his tongue designed to respond to his mate’s receptivity and fertility. She tasted ripe and sweet, and a spice of heat in her longing that made his engorged cock twitch.
“How can something so precious as possessing the heart of one’s mate not be utterly transformative in every way?” He pressed a kiss behind her ear. “I think I want that. No,” he corrected himself, “I know I want that.”
Her breath sighed from her in a sound so sweet that he leaned into her, craving more. “I want that too, I think,” she whispered.
He didn’t blame her for her uncertainty. She was still engaged in battle with herself in many ways though a lot had changed since he first brought her to the carnival. That she wanted it at all was a lot and it made him want to bellow in triumph, though he bit that urge back—choking back his nature so as not to unnecessarily startle her. A sense of happiness settled within him, however, and he nuzzled her in an affectionate expression of love and delight.
His cock straining, Raskyuil pressed his lips to hers, luxuriating in their warmth. He cupped her jaw firmly as he explored them, nibbling on them and tracing their contour with his tongue. He could taste the bloom of her excitement. It tasted of the finest fairy wine, heady and sweet. He couldn’t get enough of her flavor. So he coaxed her lips patiently with tender brushes of his own mouth upon hers, and tiny, stinging bites that made her scent thicken as he tugged ever so gently on her bottom lip.
Her lips parted as she sucked in a breath. It was a silent invitation that he pounced upon, his long tongue sweeping between her lips and plunging into the heady heat of her mouth. He moaned against her lips at the full impact of her essence flooding over his tongue. The only place where it was even more potent was in that delicious slit between her thighs. All the while the distant carousel sang, its tune carrying through the air in a haunting melody that melded so beautifully with her tiny gasps and breathy moans.
This was his. She was his. And how he adored her. How he worshiped her. She enticed him in every way. From the moment he had stood close to her within the tavern, truly taking in her scent for the first time, he had burned for her.
He had burned even before that with the dreams that had plagued him, but in that tavern, it had taken all his willpower not to pin her against the wall of her private room and ravish her as his instinct had compelled him. That desire had grown to excruciating levels when she slept that first night in his bed, succumbing to her exhaustion. And it had tormented him like a raging inferno within his blood, sending agony through him that hadn’t been assuaged until their mating.
But it wasn’t simple blind lust of the Ha’shena at work—it was MaryAnne. It was fed by his admiration of his small female with all her determination despite her fear. They had worked seamlessly together in escaping the fairy hounds, and she met every challenge and new encounter within the carnival with barely a flinch. She had claimedhimin her insistence that they mate. She broke down every single one of his defenses even while making him increasingly aware of how fragile she was.
There was so much spirit contained within her small body that he was driven to protect it so that he could enjoy yet another tongue lashing from his mate. Determined, loyal, cunning—she would have been a fine troll, and even so he wouldn’t have her any other way than exactly as she was now.
Releasing her jaw, his arms wrapped around, crushing her belly against his prick. His cock spewed a hot stream of precum against her soft flesh there, and she gasped against his mouth, her hands grabbing his forearms. He smiled against her mouth, enjoying her grip.
