by Nora Ash
Selma thought back to the previous night’s depraved fucking and smothered a snort. As far as she was concerned, he couldn’t have ‘claimed’ her more thoroughly if he had jacked off all over her, regardless of what their regular customs were. Carefully, encouraged by the calming warmth from his touch and the barely camouflaged longing in his tone and aura, she placed her hands on his shoulders. “Marathín, you have claimed me. I am yours.”
A small smile spread on his lips. “There is doubt in your mind—the scent carries through.”
Damn it. She bit her lip, looking worriedly up at him. She couldn’t lose the one bargaining point that gave her the slightest tad of power over him, not if she...
She interrupted the swirling thoughts before they drove her into panic mode and frowned at him. If she couldn’t win him over by purely seeming weak and in need of his protection, then she’d need to change strategy, and quickly. “I am frightened—I told you as much. I get that you need to test me, but cut me some slack, will you? This is... this is all a lot to deal with.”
His smile increased ever so slightly at her change in demeanor. “I understand, my sweet. If you had been completely calm and accepting today I would have been very surprised, even if your body has started to prepare you for your role with us after the first mating.”
“It doesn’t change how I feel about being with you.”
Large hands smoothed down over her hips. “You are incapable of making that decision before we have mated again, without the mark’s influence. And I am unable to trust in your dedication enough to risk my life before you have reached orgasm on me.”
The nervous swallow was reflexive at the thought of being wrenched open by his massive cock. “You’re sure I can...?” She didn’t bother trying to hide the quiver in her voice.
His thumbs circled her hips gently, rubbing warmth into her skin through the fabric. “Do you remember how it felt when I pushed my fist into you? How you didn’t think you could take it, even though you ended up coming so hard you nearly crushed my hand? Nothing but your natural reactions to me aided you then, sweetheart, and I’m not a Lord—as long as I remain careful you will be fine.”
He had a point—never in a million years would she have thought that she could endure the extreme fisting he put her through, but she had managed to find pleasure in the punishing girth despite basic physiology suggesting otherwise.
One of the hands moved from her hip to her face, gently cupping her cheek as he lifted her gaze to his. “If you manage to give yourself willingly and completely I will answer your questions about the war, as a symbol of my commitment to our agreement. Is there anything else you want to ask before we begin?”
A myriad of questions flew through her mind; she wanted to know as much as possible about his kind and what was expected of the breeders they captured, but with an inward shudder she realized that nothing he could say would make her fluttering nerves calm. She could ask after, because the longer she waited the worse the churning in her stomach became. Silently, she shook her head, her front teeth digging into her lower lip and gnawing nervously.
“Good.” The sudden heat that blazed against her from his eyes made her let go of her abused lip with a ‘pop’ as her mouth fell open in shock of the sudden and complete change. The way this man managed to shift persona in a hot second … Her pussy clenched involuntarily in response to his darkened gaze, as if the very real worries she’d been fretting about since last night were suddenly no longer important enough to keep her concentration, even though they were still making her stomach knot with anxiety.
“You look beautiful all flustered like this.” His strong fingers moved from her hip and cheek up into her hair where they grabbed two handfuls. She gave in to the gentle tug and bent her neck backwards for him, gasping as his breath teased over her exposed throat. “You were meant to be mine, little Breeder—just one small display of my desire for you and your cunt calls out to me. I wonder how long it will take before you soak through your pants with need?”
Hopefully not long. Selma could feel the small surge of desire rushing through her veins—it was nothing compared to the crazed heat he’d caused by touching her brand last night, but it was something. Even as her face heated in embarrassment at his crass words, and her body’s easy compliance, she felt a small burst of hope grow with that one, sweet contraction. The demon had done nothing to earn her trust, but some deep and primal instinct seemed to be confident in his abilities to make her find pleasure, if the way her body reacted to his ministrations was any indicator.
Hesitantly, hoping to encourage him yet unsure of what he expected of her, she stroked her hands over his shoulders, enjoying their firm width; despite his demonic nature underneath the human mask, he was thankfully an attractive male.
A smile, unexpectedly soft under the still-heated gaze, spread on his face at the gesture, and he released his grip on her hair, cupping the back of her head to encourage her to follow him when he leaned back in the chair. “But you are not in the mating thrall this time. I will go slowly, as promised. Close your eyes, sweetheart; let me calm you.”
Selma obeyed, relieved that he would allow her to be more passive. With her eyes closed it was easy to focus on his scent and the warmth of his hands when they began dancing up and down her back again, gently loosening the muscles in their path. He smelled like sandalwood and musk; not as overpoweringly male as last night, but enough for her hormones to perk up at his proximity.
She let out a content sigh, and was rewarded with a low hum from the male she was straddling.
“I love feeling you under my hands,” he murmured, and she felt another pang from her pussy in reaction to the smooth darkness in his voice. “You’re so soft and pliable—so perfectly female. I can’t wait to trail my fingers along your naked skin... suckle your beautiful breasts... taste the wetness between your legs.”
The small whimper that escaped her lips was involuntary; an instinctive reaction to his seductive spell, followed by warm moisture heating up the place where their groins pressed against each other. He growled low in his throat, and she felt his cock harden underneath her, undoubtedly in response to the warmth from her core—that whispered invitation from the center of her body pulling on him, enticing him to possess her. Selma kept her eyes firmly shut, allowing her senses to be drawn further into his hypnotic presence.
His scent changed, the musk in it intensifying, and she felt her nether lips thicken in anticipation, opening up and allowing more liquid to soak her panties. God, everything about him spoke to her most primal instincts—as if something in his genetic make-up stripped her of the layers of civilization evolution had provided, rendering her incapable of resisting... leaving her a mindless slave to her own baser instincts.
Selma pressed her nose into his neck and inhaled deeply, inviting the rush of hormones to take over her mind. This reaction to him—whatever it was—it was her salvation.
Marathín growled again and twisted his neck to capture her lips. His mouth was scorching against hers, his tongue demanding but slow as it flicked in between her lips to taste her.
She mewled into his mouth, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of heat that swept through her from the kiss, and his hands slid from her back down to her ass. The next moment he was standing with her weight in his large palms. Her legs wrapped around his hips on their own accord in search for balance, and she wound her arms around his neck as she drew back from his mouth, startled enough by the unexpected movement to open her eyes.
His gaze was filled with fiery need, and it captured hers in the moment her eyelids flickered open, demanding her submission as he had the night before.
“Selma, I cannot control myself with you.” The demon’s voice was gravelly and hoarse, and sent a pleasurable mix of instinctive fear and anticipation shivering down her spine. “Every brush of your lips tugs on my willpower; every breath of your scent draws cracks in my resolve to go slow. Those sweet little noises you can’t help but make when I t
ouch you... Do you even realize how much I need to have you? How much it pains me to not join our bodies this very instant?”
“You promised,” she whispered, not entirely sure why her body clenched wetly at his frightening words. “Don’t hurt me, Marathín.”
He laughed softly, moving them to the desk where he sat her down, his strong hands not releasing their hold on her body. “Little Breeder, you are safe, I promise.” He grabbed her by the chin and lifted her gaze to his. The smoldering heat she saw there made her shiver again, her body unconsciously leaning towards his powerful frame. “I will give you pleasure, no matter the cost. I want you; as my own, as my mate... I want to make your belly round with my seed, and fill your sweet pussy with my cock every day and night. Hurting you would be hurting myself, don’t you see?”
She didn’t, really, but then again, her head was swimming with warring emotions, fear and lust mixing into an unending swirl of sensation that left her breathless and weak, unable to think coherently. All that truly mattered was the here and now—the large male and the pleasure he promised he would give.
Marathín must have taken her mute stare as consent, because he released her chin and let his hands find the buttons of his white coat, easily flicking them open one after the other. The crisp, light gray shirt underneath received the same treatment, and then he stood there, naked from the waist up, any resemblance with his professional persona gone. Every ounce of his hard flesh oozed masculine power, the rippling muscles covering his torso promising protection and endurance—coaxing her primitive needs to the forefront of her shaken mind.
Selma’s eyes traveled from his burning gaze to his chest, lingering on scabbed-over scratches. Without conscious effort on her part, her hands moved up his tense stomach to carefully stroke over them.
“I did this?” She had no recollection of digging her nails into his skin, but the placement of them made it quite obvious that they were made in the heat of passion.
“Your mating marks. You carved your need for me into my very flesh.” He smiled wryly and stepped closer, nudging her knees apart with his hips to make her spread her legs for him until the muscles in his thighs pressed so close to her groin she could feel his heat there; a near-physical caress to areas shamefully eager for his touch. “I want you, Selma. Enough to risk everything. Does that entice you as much as it frightens you?”
The pulse beating heavily between her legs made it easier to nod her head than she’d have thought it would be earlier that morning, but his acceptance of her fear helped relax her too—she didn’t have to pretend she wasn’t scared, which made it easier to feel the other urges... the ones that murmured of lust and desire.
Large hands found her shoulders, one traveling up the column of her neck to tip her head back with a gentle yet firm pressure of a strong thumb against her throat.
“You will be mine,” he whispered when their eyes met, before he bent his head to press warm lips softly against hers. His kiss was searing and possessive despite the soft touch, his hand around her neck remaining as a quiet counterpoint to the gentleness—a reminder of what he was capable of, should she object. It sent shivers down her spine, but with the tremor of fear came an unexpected surge of arousal. His dominance spoke to something deep and shameful; that same thing which had made her spread her legs and beg for him the night before.
The hand on her shoulder traveled down her body, flicking open buttons on her white shirt with skilled ease while his mouth continued to tease hers, his tongue brushing out to taste her lips.
When her shirt was fully open, he removed his hand from her neck to brush the garment off her shoulders, deepening the kiss the moment it slid off her arms until her airways were filled with his taste and scent. Only when her hands on his chest started grabbing at the muscles in response to his onslaught did he pull back, the smirk now darkly wicked.
Selma managed to gasp in a few gulps of air before he went for her jawline and jugular, pressing heated kisses to her skin in an ever-downward seeking path that made her entire body tingle with anticipation. When he reached the hollow of her throat his hands went to her naked sides, sliding down them until he reached the swell of her hips.
And then his lips dipped to her left nipple.
“Oh, god!” She abandoned any remaining shreds of dignity when he sucked it into the warmth of his mouth and shocks of sensation exploded through her nerves, all the way down to her clit, turning the dampness there into gushes of moisture. Her hands went to his hair, fingers curling in the thick locks as she surrendered fully. It didn’t matter who he was or why they were there; as long as he could make her feel like that she could forget and give in. “Please, yes, like that!”
Marathín growled in response to her outburst, capturing the moistened bud between his teeth to pull punishingly on it before he lifted his head to stare into her hooded eyes. “I want to be gentle for you, my sweet,” he said, voice rough with desire and anger. “But if you call out for the gods I will lose it, and you will get fucked hard until you cannot call out to them again. Do you hear me?”
Selma blinked, momentarily shocked out of the mounting pleasure. The angry threat was not exactly in tune with his smooth seduction. “But... why?”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “It is a taunt to my kind. Do not test my self-control on the matter. Understood?”
She nodded hastily though she truly didn’t, because the fear shooting icy tendrils up her spine suggested that arguing was not the wisest choice. Apparently, this was the one thing that could make him forget his promises to be gentle with her, and understanding was not worth the pain she would suffer if he went back on his word.
The demon forced a possessive kiss to her lips at her acceptance of his demands before lowering his head once more, this time to let his mouth find her other nipple. It hardened instantly under his attention, traitorously unconcerned with the renewed fear coiling in her stomach, and when he suckled her deeply her hands found his hair once more as groans of pleasure made their way up through her throat.
He leaned in, pressing her backwards, and she heard the racket of several items being swept to the floor before he forced her flat on her back on the desk, mouth still lodged to her breast as if he planned to torment every last drop of pleasure from it.
As soon her back was flush with the smooth desk his right hand went between her legs, fingers immediately finding the throbbing little nub through her pants. Selma gasped, but before she could do much else he shifted his hand, leaving only the lightest of pressure where she ached the most.
When she mewled in protest and tried to wriggle her hips for more, he finally lifted his head from her well-attended breast and grinned slyly. “You like that?”
“Yeah-huh.” She let her hands slide from his hair to his shoulders, relieved he didn’t appear to hold a grudge. “It feels good.”
“Would you like me to make you feel even better?” His eyebrows quirked teasingly at her before he bent his head for her other breast. This time, he suckled her more gently, drawing deep but short pulls from her nipple while increasing the pressure to her clit ever so slightly. The result was maddening, and Selma moaned with the bursts of need snapping through her for every time he suckled, her hips rising in waves as if he was already thrusting within her.
Only when he paused to look questioningly at her did she realize that she hadn’t answered him.
“Do you want more, my sweet?” he asked at her confused, and somewhat frazzled, look.
Nodding, because words seemed too hard to form just then, she lifted up on her elbows when he pulled back.
He grabbed her left leg and pulled the shoe and sock of her foot before placing a kiss to the sole that tickled deliciously. His mouth quirked up at her giggle, and then he dug a thumb into the arch and her giggle died for a moan that had little to do with sexual pleasure.
“Oh wow,” she muttered, letting her head fall back on the desk. “Wow that feels good.” The sudden change from the very direct sexual
stimulation to this was jarring, but his fingers felt like magic against the soles of her foot and she was quickly transforming into a puddle of unexpected calm. “What are you doing?” Even to her, her voice sounded drugged.
“Making you relax.” His tone held a note of amusement. “And quite effectively, if I may say so.”
“I thought we were going to have sex.”
Marathín chuckled and switched to her other foot, easily getting rid of both shoe and sock there too. “We are. I will have you deeply and completely, and you will writhe on my cock like a wanton whore before we’re done.”
It was an interesting experience, having her pussy clench wetly at his words through completely relaxed muscles, and it made the desire grow deep in her body, blooming slowly and lazily for every touch of his fingers to her feet. She sighed happily at the sensation.
“Most males do not get to have their mates without the influence of the mark for months. Sometimes years. I want you to enjoy it as much as I will, sweetness, and for that I need your body tension free.”
He certainly was thorough in his care. Selma relaxed under his ministrations, hardly noticing when he paused to lift her hips so he could slide her pants and underwear off and continue the massage up her calves. Why had she been so frightened? He was obviously very concerned with her pleasure and well-being, and the way he could make her body feel... completely relaxed yet burning with desire... she had never felt anything like it... anything like him.
“Marathín,” she moaned when his skilled hands reached her inner thighs, thoughts hazy with the pleasure of it all. “You feel so good. So very good.”
“Yes, I do.”
His answer brushed over her wet center, and her eyes blinked open when she realized how deep he’d gotten between her spread legs without her even realizing.