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Then her tongue slides past my lips and against my own and I forget everything except her taste. I kiss her hard, needing to have control in this moment, and when we break for breath, a moan escapes her lips that almost has me undone.
My roaming hands find the hem of her top, drawing it up over her body. She slips away from me just far enough to shimmy out of it the rest of the way, before unclipping the undergarment that covers her breasts. As soon as they are exposed to me, I dip my head down to capture the bud of her nipple in my mouth, laving her with my tongue before grazing over the sensitive peak with my teeth. She gasps, and I nuzzle closer, nipping and sucking and licking until she is all but writhing beneath me, her hands seeking out the material of my top, sliding underneath it to take her fill of my skin.
I draw back from her, pulling my top off and discarding it with hers before seeking the ties at her waist. When my clumsy fingers are unable to undo them, she chuckles, batting my hands aside and doing it herself. I grin, heartened to hear her laughter. It tells me she is relaxed, happy, that no uncertainty lingers in her over this mating.
She wriggles her remaining clothes down her body. I loosen my own leathers, shoving them down to my feet and kicking them off with an urgency that makes her chuckle again. Then I am crushing her to my chest, kissing her again as I push her clothes the rest of the way off, my hand grazing over the long, firm lines of her legs before coming back up to cup her delicious backside. She groans against my mouth as I squeeze and knead her flesh, and I know I should slow down. Taste her skin everywhere it has been newly exposed to me. I should be between her thighs, tasting her cunt, bringing her to her peak before I even consider my own pleasure.
But the need to be inside her burns hotter than sense, and when I dip my fingers between her thighs, find her already dripping with wetness for me, I know the same need burns in her, also.
I go to move over her, ready to align our bodies, slide inside her in one long, slow movement. But I pause, remembering words she has spoken in her rememberings in the dreamspace. About her serving her duty on her back. I do not think this is even close to being in her thoughts right now, but it is in mine, and I cannot ignore it. So I grip her hips, flipping us over so it is me on my back, her positioned over me. As she braces her weight against my chest, a startled sound escaping her, I take my cock in hand, guiding it to her entrance. I lift my hips, pressing into her slowly. She gasps, features tightening with discomfort for a brief moment, before she relaxes and lowers herself down onto me, taking my cock deeper and deeper. Watching it sink inside her is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
She shifts, lifting herself up a little before coming back down further, deeper. Her motions are a little tense, a little uncertain, and I soothe my hands over her hips as she searches for a movement she likes. I know when she finds it, for she groans, lifting herself almost all the way off my cock, before slamming back down onto me, taking me all the way to the hilt.
She repeats the motion, rolling her hips and grinding down into me as she chases her pleasure, a flush coming into her chest and cheeks that makes her all the more beautiful. Her lips part as soft moans escape her, and I would encourage those sounds, do what I can to make her make more of them. But for now, I am awestruck by her, unable to do more than watch as she rides me, her throat growing long as she tips her head back, eyes pinching closed as she drives herself ever higher. Her cunt flutters around me, increasing my own pleasure, the slip and slide of our bodies growing more intense with every passing moment.
I can tell she is close by the way her movements start to stutter, her blunted little claws digging into the skin of my chest, her breathing growing more ragged. And suddenly, watching her climax is not enough. I need to get her there, to feel my own actions push her over that edge. I sit up, the shift in our positions sending her legs around my waist, her thighs gripping my sides as I start to pump into her, one hand pinning her hips in place, the other cupping her cheek as I draw her in to a demanding kiss.
Her arms wrap around my neck as she kisses me back, pressing her body closer to mine as our tongues tangle and dance in each other’s mouths. It is hard to tell where she ends and I begin, our sweat-slicked skin gliding together, gripping each other so tight it is as though we are become one entity. When my Brooks breaks the kiss, high little gasps escaping her throat as she bows her head, teeth biting into my shoulder, my own breathing is just as fast, a tightness building in my abdomen as I continue to pound into her. Her body takes everything I give it, slick and wet and warm and perfect.
She is perfect.
I am so close to release, but even in my lust induced haze, thoughts break through. Things my mated brothers have said about humans and the curious nub between their thighs that brings them great pleasure. I seek it out, brushing the pad of my thumb over that sensitive spot. Instantly, my linasha’s cunt clenches, and she lets out a ragged shout. Encouraged, I repeat the motion, learning how much pressure is too much, and what sends her spiralling closer and closer toward the precipice of her release.
Then her core convulses, milking my cock as she makes a high, keening sound, her body going almost rigid as waves of pleasure course through her. I grip her thighs once more, roughly thrusting into her tight heat before reaching my own climax with a shout.
Tangled together, breathing hard, we press our foreheads together as the pleasure rushes through us, and I know, I think, why Lina continues to grant blessings on mates, even in these frightening, uncertain times.
Because I fought hard to protect Sam. It was not enough, but if my Brooks has said I could not have done more, then I trust that. I trust her. I fought hard because it was the right thing to do, because Sam is my friend.
But for my linasha, I know I will fight with even greater ferocity. Whatever Mercenia might bring, I would burn all of it down just to keep her in my arms.
* * *
I do not intend to fall asleep, but the nesta tea must still have a grip on my senses, for almost as soon as I lie beside my Brooks, the sweat still cooling on our skin, the weight of tiredness settles over me again.
“That was incredible,” my Brooks says, her hand rubbing over my chest as she nestles close into my side.
“It was perfect. You are perfect.”
“Hmph, I am not.”
“You are perfect to me.”
I squeeze her tight, kiss the top of her head where it rests against my shoulder.
“Do we need to get up?” she asks, her voice almost sleepy. I am wide awake, as it should be in the dreamspace, but my body feels so relaxed, it is almost akin to dozing.
“Probably,” I say, but make no move to stand, to change our dreamspace once more back to the cliff tops.
I run my hand down my linasha’s side, starting at the place on her neck where her tattoo is.
“Certain raskarran tribes mark their warriors like this when they show great skill,” I say. “Is that the reason behind this marking?”
My Brooks makes a derisive sound. “Of course not. It’s more like a barcode. It’s…” She searches for a way to make this make sense to me. “It’s like they’ve marked me with my own name - only they don’t actually give a shit what my name is. So they just put what they actually care about on there. My regiment, my training record, my breeding background. All my vital statistics.”
“It is pretty,” I say, though it discomforts me to think it.
“I know. I’ve always kind of liked it.” She looks up at me. “And I’m here now, not working for Mercenia anymore. It can mean whatever we want it to, right?”
