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Arran didn’t hesitate. He used one knee to keep me pinned tight against the wall so he could use his hand to free himself from his trousers. I felt the tip of his cock hovering at my entrance. But by the time I looked down between our slick bodies, determined to finally see that proud length, he slammed inside of me.
I hated him, yet I could have lived in that moment forever.
My head went back so hard it banged against the wall. Yet the feral scream that ripped from my throat was one of pure passion. Arran’s mouth was on my throat, his canines dragging lazily along my jugular even as he pounded into me. My pussy clung to him, the wetness of my desire sliding down his cock, creating a loud sucking sound each time he pulled back and then thrust back in.
But that sound was nearly eclipsed by the animalistic sounds tearing from my throat with each thrust. My clit was on fire, rubbing against the wiry curls of hair around the base of his cock. My breasts—Ancestors, I wanted him to touch them but I couldn’t form words. Arran was too busy ravaging my neck. No, now he was on my collarbone. Sucking on it so hard, I could almost feel my blood rising up to pool beneath the skin.
Would he nip my skin with his sharpened canines and taste my blood? Did he want to?
My instincts told me the beast within him wanted nothing more.
The thought of it, of my blood on his tongue as he drove it into my mouth once more—it pushed me right over the edge. I felt the flood of moisture, felt my cunt tighten over him.
Tears or sweat or blood, I didn’t know. I buried my hands in his hair and held him tightly against me as my climax spilled through me, burning trails of fire through my veins.
It lasted longer than I’d ever experienced, my legs wobbling. Arran’s hands were strong, around my waist now, caressing the outsides of my thighs. I expected him to hold me there against the wall, taking his own pleasure. But instead he eased my legs down, off of his hips, until my toes touched the floor.
Fear took over me. I didn’t want it to be over. I didn’t want the feelings to come back. I wanted to live in this suspended animation forever.
When the pads of my feet touched the floor, I gave into the weakness in my knees. I slid down his body, letting my tongue drag along the ink of his talisman until I was kneeling before him. My eyes landed on what I wanted and my breath caught in my throat.
Feeling the hard length of him inside of me was one thing, but seeing it before my eyes, erect and dripping with my juices… I nearly came again right there.
“Veyka,” Arran growled softly as my hand came up and formed a circle around the base. I could only just manage it, the tips of my fingernails barely grazing one another as I fisted him.
He’d had me at his mercy. I dragged my tongue over the head, licking away the drip of thick cum that formed at the slit.
Now he was at mine.
I would not be weak before him, I told myself as I slid my tongue along the underside, taking him deep into my throat.
I hated him, but the feeling of his magnificent cock inside of my mouth was a decadence I would long for long after this moment was past.
The taste of my own pleasure on his shaft was intoxicating. He’d done this to me, elicited that sweet, slightly spicy rush of wetness from my tortured pussy. Now his precum was dripping down my throat as I worked him in and out, my hand circling the base where even my generous mouth could not reach.
I felt a tug on my braid, realizing he’d wound the tail of it around his wrist while also threading his fingers through the strands near my skull. With every bob of my head, his fingertips caressed my head and hair.
Arran was silent, but the beast inside of him was growling, low and steady, just for me. I could feel it in my bones, in the hollow place inside my chest where my heart used to be. This power over him… I was determined to savor it, to drink it down like sustenance I couldn’t live without.
I felt him tense, the fingers buried in my hair tightening to the point of pain.
But I didn’t stop. I pushed past the gagging, past the tears rolling down my cheeks, until I felt him explode inside of me. The heat of his cum filled my mouth, pouring down my throat, dripping out of my lips as I tried to swallow every last drop of him.
“Fuck.” Arran’s harsh whispered cry cut across the room.
When I was satisfied that every last drop of his thick nectar was safe between my lips, I rocked back, resting my back against the wall. My head dropped back as well, my face tilting upward. Arran’s forearms were braced against the wall, his head between them. I expected his eyes to be closed, but they were staring right down at me.
For a second, I thought there was tenderness between us. At the very least, vulnerability. Perhaps there was something there… something that hadn’t existed before. Something new.
Maybe some shriveled part of my soul, buried deep beneath the ruins of my heart, remained alive. Waiting to be rekindled.
Then Arran shoved away from the wall. My eyes drifted closed, but my hearing was sharp, even if not a single bead of magic lived inside of me. I heard every step he took; the rustle of buttons being shoved through fabric holes—his trousers being refastened. The soft whisper of linen as he picked up his shirt, judged it to be ruined, then tossed it into the ever-burning hearth.
I counted the footsteps as he walked out of my bedroom and through the antechamber, closing the doors behind him. Softer footsteps circled outside my door—Gwen, the only one he trusted to guard my door in his absence. She was in her dark lioness form, if the padded footfalls were any indication.
I sat there for five minutes, then ten and twenty. I waited for the flood of feeling, the hate and rage and grief to come crashing back to claim me. But my head was blessedly silent, my pussy still throbbing pleasantly.
After an hour, I managed to stand on still-wobbly legs and make my way back to the bed. I collapsed into the sheets, the ones that still smelled like Arran. No doubt from those hours he’d spent watching over me in my unconsciousness—an unconsciousness he had caused.
