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If she must suffer, so should I.
Either way, her fate will be mine.
We’ll survive this together. Or we won’t. Those are the only outcomes.
Suicide after one’s mate dies is common, and it’s not the first time I’ve fantasized about my own death. If Hannah leaves this world, I’ll be right behind her.
Now that my soul once again belongs to me, my fate is no longer in someone else’s hands. My life is mine to do with what I wish, and if I want to end it, no one can stop me.
“Hey,” Hannah says softly but firmly, as if she knows where my thoughts are at. “Eyes on me.”
Taking the gray feather, she runs it down her own chest, trailing between her breasts.
I gasp a little because I feel it as if she’s doing it to me. When she circles her nipples, one by one, I involuntarily thrust my hips, just trying to get some friction on my cock. Her pussy is warm, wet, and tight, but I crave movement and rhythm.
“Ah, ah.” She shakes her head at me.
Frustrated, I grunt as the feather finds its way to my neck. Hannah grazes the prong marks with the silky tip.
Tingles ripple over my body, and I clench my fists and tug at my hair to keep my hands where they are.
Giving me just a sliver of what I need, Hannah rocks her body, lifting up then coming back down. She does it again and again, and she starts the rhythm like a slow dance.
Her juices drip down my cock as she fucks me languidly.
Inevitably, she gets worked up. Moans and whimpers escape her as her body bucks faster.
It hasn’t been anywhere close to an hour like Hannah claimed it would be, but I’m anticipating the orgasm heading our way.
The pressure is building inside me—inside her, insideus—and…
She just stops all movement.
My eyebrows furrow. “What—”
“Shh.” She cuts off my complaint.
More feather play.
She gets going again.
Repeat.
It just goes on and on. Whenever she gets close to coming, she pauses and teases the fuck out of me until she’s regained control of her body.
Her stubborn streak is one to be admired. Honestly, I’m proud of my mate. Proud because she tamed someone like me. She’s the center of my benevolence, my motivation to embrace goodness, the reason I know true love.
And, by the stars, she’s a sight to behold, her eyes closed, fingers threaded through her hair, cheeks flushed, and jaw slack as she loses herself in the ecstasy we’re so close to.
She doesn’t realize how much she’s testing me. Pushing me to my feral side. Somewhere inside me, there’s a monster. A monster who doesn’t play by someone else’s rules. A monster who wants to fill her with my seed.
I’m not tied down. My hands are still behind my head where she wants them, but I could move anytime.
I could grab her, spin us until she’s pinned beneath me, and fuck her hard and fast. She’d love it, and it’s tempting.
But I know she needs this.
She didn’t consent to the sudden turn her life took, and this is her way of snatching the reins back.
