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Unlike when he took her maidenhead and the untried flesh had instinctively resisted his invasion, she opened around his cock as he seated himself with one long, firm stroke. MaryAnne cried out as his hips met her ass, and her cunt rippled around him in fluttery caresses that drew along his length and made his seed boil up with his sack.
He hissed between his teeth and slowly lowered her to her toes as he drew back to the tip before rocking forward with a brutal snap of his hips. He grunted, his balls slapping wetly against her clit, making her jerk against him. She cried out at that same moment, her body jumping and bearing down on him in a hard spasm all at once.
His hand slid to her hip, and he pulled back and rocked into her again, his measured thrust deep and hard, his cock pressing kisses against the mouth of her womb with his every thrust. His body curled over hers, he claimed her pussy with his every thrust, like a brand marking her thoroughly, claiming every inch of her sex opened up around it.
Raskyuil’s pace increased as his pleasure climbed, his pelvis pressing hard against her lush bottom, and he fed his cock into her with ever quickening deep thrust. Sometimes he didn’t even bother to draw out far before he burrowed himself within her again. All the while, MaryAnne’s breathy cries spurred him on. They fed his lust, called to a primal part of him that was a beast claiming his pinned mate beneath him. He rutted her, working his cock into her faster and harder even as she rose on her toes with what little leverage she could find to rock back against him. It was furious, almost violent, the way they came together, their bodies slapping out a brutal rhythm as his growls and grunts were intersected with increasingly louder cries.
His tail curled around her hip, and he bent down to run his tongue up her back, savoring the hormone laden sweat of her skin. He hissed at the taste and gripped her leg behind the knee with one hand, lifting it to open her wider for him as his frenzy broke over him. It was an electric pull through his body as his hips rocked wildly, a crackle that surged through his veins even as he felt his sack tighten with his imminent release. It tightened within his belly and back, coiling as it wound in on itself.
He threw his head back in a silent snarl as he thrust harder, relishing the intense flutters of excitement of her cunt as it slowly began to tighten around him until her pleasure broke over him with a sharp cry, her cunt squeezing the life out of his cock, milking him fiercely with its spasms as his own release boiled out of him with an explosive jerk of his hips as a brutal roar ripped from his throat.
He rode it out, hammering his seed into her, his teeth gritted with the intensity of the hard jets of his release spraying within his mate with every jerk of his cock within her cunt’s tight grip. His eyes rolled back, lost in bliss as he rode through their ecstasy, their cries mingling amid the cocoon of fog surrounding them as the muted song of the carousel sang to them from a distance. Lost in her clutch, he shook against her, overcome by the devotion filling him anew before as he slowly lowered her leg and released it to cover her more completely and cling to her in the aftermath of their rut.
It was the feverish, loving kisses pressed into his chest wherever she could reach turning her head back against him, however, that stole what little of his heart that was left as his completely.
If there was ever any doubt before, he knew he would never be able to let her go. There was nothing left of him now without his sweet little mate, his MaryAnne.
ChapterThirty-Six
MaryAnne glanced skeptically at her mate as she followed him through the fog. Their encounter in the fog had concluded with a hasty clean-up in their tent and a languid afternoon enjoying what little things they procured from the galley tent, she was therefore surprised that he’d been insistent to leave again before their duties began at nightfall. He had been determined to go alone but caved with surprising ease when she refused to hear of it, instead drawing her with him through the thick fog hanging over the carnival once more.
With how thick the fog was she was honestly surprised that it was still going to open, but Raskyuil hadn’t offered any comment on her observation, lost as he was in his own thoughts. He’d been that way ever since she had revealed everything that she’d learned from the drya sisters, retreating into his own thoughts, the lines of his face set in a severe frown as he stared at the fire he’d kindled in the metal brazier set close enough to their bed to offer some warmth.
She was starting to wish that she were back in their tent now. The fog blocked out enough of the sunlight that, with the waning light of the evening, there was a miserable damp chill in the air that penetrated down to the bone. She shivered, wrapping her wool coat tighter around herself as she ducked beneath a tent’s tether.
“Where are we going?” she hissed as they dodged around the side of another tent that emerged out of nowhere from the fog as far as she could tell. She blinked as she recognized the vibrant color and pattern of the elf’s tent. “Oh, shit. Are you mad?”
“Shh,” he replied in a quiet snarl. “There is something I need to get a look at and then we can leave. But I need to see what Elwyn has while he’s distracted with arranging tonight’s entertainment.”
“And you don’t think anyone is going to be around and notice a huge troll slipping inside?” She was appalled at his logic. Elwyn was obviously a big deal in the carnival and was always surrounded by no less than five servants attending to his every need.
To her surprise, Raskyuil snorted mirthlessly. “Not likely. His ego is big enough to presume that no one here would dare approach his tent uninvited, and he also seems to require all of his servants to be on hand at a moment’s notice,” he added dryly, clearly having observed the same thing she had about the elf lord.
“If everyone is this distracted while the carnival prepares to open, shouldn’t we be using this time to look for my kids?”
He glanced over his shoulder at her as he crouched low beside the large tent. “And what if this has something to do with your younglings? It doesn’t seem like a coincidence that he has acquired an important spell that must be utilized on the same night that the shades of the younglings disappear from the carnival.”
“Fuck,” she muttered as she crept forward and tucked herself closely beside him.
His tail swept around her, its warm weight brushing against her arm and teasing the back of her hand with the light flick of its tip. It was such a strange, affectionate gesture but one that made her grin to herself despite the seriousness of their current circumstances.
“It can’t be this easy,” she muttered. “Wouldn’t there be magic protecting this place too? I mean, if you can do it with our tent, surely he can do it as well.”
Raskyuil nodded distractedly. “There is. Give me a moment,” he whispered. “Elwyn is using simple wards that would keep most out but they aren’t hardly anything compared to the magic Zagrol taught me. It just takes a little time to undo the weave.”
MaryAnne stared at her mate. “Are you seriously telling me that we are trusting our lives to Zagrol’s magic?”
She had nothing against the goblin as the male had seemed polite and helpful enough on the few times that they encountered him after his stupid attempt to hunt her, but goblins and their magic seemed more bent toward being tricky, sneaky creatures. The idea of relying on it suddenly made her breakout in a nervous sweat.
As if sensing her spike of concern—probably picked up by that nose of his—her mate turned his head and glanced over at her. “You are concerned?”
“Uh… yeah. We’re really going to trust a goblin’s magic against that of an elflord,” she stressed nervously.
Raskyuil chuckled softly. “We are. And for a very good reason.”
“I’m all ears,” she muttered unenthusiastically as she stared warily at the entrance.
He brushed a finger along her cheek and gently turned her face toward him again. “Aelf magic is very good, but it is not best suited for every kind of magic. And their interests often take them in other directions rather than something that seems as simple as a ward. Goblins excel not only in working with shadows but also in manipulating energies that might block them from going where they please. They know wards like few other species do. That he shared this knowledge with me is what made me feel comfortable leaving you in the tent. And that is what is going to get us in now.”
