by Ruby Dixon
I’m liking humans more and more by the moment.
Our mouths mesh over and over again, tongues flicking and exploring, until I am unsure where her mouth starts and mine begins. When she pulls away from me, I feel a stab of loss and lean in again immediately, wanting more of her taste. She’s mine to possess, every bit of her, and I hunger for more of her mouth.
At least, I do until she puts her hands on my chest, panting, and begins to undo the fastenings on the front of my tunic. “I’ve never had sex before,” she tells me, breathless. “I was stolen when I was twelve, and Leandra never let anyone abuse me. So I’m…well, I’m not going to be very good at this.”
“If you are half as good at it as you are kissing, I will be the happiest man on Cassa.”
She giggles, ducking her head shyly as she pushes the collar of my tunic open, and then presses her mouth to my neck. “Tell me to stop if you want me to.”
Stop? I want her to do anything and everything she wants. “I am yours to play with,” I tell her in a thick voice. “Touch me as you please.”
Nicola looks up at me and smiles, then leans back so she can meet my eyes. “Have you had sex?”
“A long time ago,” I admit. “When I was a soldier. We went to…brothels.” I don’t like to think about that now, because when I do, I think of the hard-eyed females that worked there and imagine my Nicola in that place. The thought makes me furious and a little bit helpless, and I hold her tighter against me. “Not in a very long time though, and never because I cared for someone.”
“So then we’re both pretty new at this,” she says, and my heart aches with how sweet she is. She leans in and nips at my throat again. “Let’s promise to make it good for each other. We can come together.”
I am not entirely certain that it works that way, but maybe it is different with humans. Regardless, I like the idea. “Very well.” With that thought in mind, I put my hand on the collar of her tunic and fumble with the clasps, far more ornate than the ones on my clothing. When that doesn’t work, I lean in and capture her mouth again, already addicted to kissing.
She’s panting between meetings of our mouths, and her hands work up and down the front of her tunic, undoing the decorative clasps. I touch her all over, eager for her to expose her bare skin to my gaze. I think of the night I saw her bathing, and my hunger for her grows more intense.
Her gaze locks on mine, and then she peels back her tunic, exposing her torso. Covering her breasts is a wide cloth band, pulled tight over them. I have never seen the like. “Do…do they pain you?”
Nicola shakes her head. “They’re just bigger than most mesakkah women. I need additional support.” Her cheeks flush. “So I don’t bounce all over the place.”
“I…would not mind seeing bouncing,” I admit, then move a hand up to cup one through the band of fabric. She feels soft and fascinating under my hand, and I tug the band down, wanting to see more. Her breasts jiggle as the band drops, and then I am speechless at the sight of their bounty. She is full and plump here, with dark pink, tiny nipples topping pale, creamy mounds. I brush my thumb over the tip of one and it tightens.
She gasps, her fingers digging into my tunic. Her hips rock over mine, pressing her cunt against my cock.
“Beautiful,” I murmur, caressing her breasts. I tease one and then the other, playing with them and coaxing her nipples to stiff points. Each brush of my fingers over her skin makes her whimper and her body moves against me, until she’s gyrating her hips over mine, pushing against my cock as I pet her.
“Put your mouth on me, Emvor,” she asks. “I want to feel your tongue on my nipples.”
My tongue on them? The thought makes me growl with need. I love the thought. I gather her in my arms and tilt our twined bodies backward until she’s on her back in the bed, and I am atop her. Like this, I can see her breasts bounce in the charming way she mentioned, and her hair spills over the bedding. Gorgeous. I’m practically shaking with want as I tear at her clothing, hungering to see more of her skin.
When her tunic is completely open, I lean in and rub my face against the curve of one breast and then taste her with my mouth.
She cries out, her hands fluttering over my hair before she goes to my horns. With another sensual whimper, she clutches them and holds my head to her as I begin to treat her breasts as I did her mouth—loving them with teasing strokes of my tongue, then sucking on the tips as if they were her tongue and we are kissing once more.
Nicola loves it. She writhes under me on the bed, twisting and moaning.
My mind is on fire with all of the things I can do to her body. If she is this excited over my mouth on her breasts, what will it be like when I taste her cunt? My mouth waters at the thought. “Part your pretty thighs for me,” I command her. “I want to taste you here, too.”
I love the little gasp she makes, and when she reaches for the waistband of her trou, I work on my tunic, dragging it off of my shoulders. I rip one of the seams in my haste, but I don’t care. All I care about is Nicola’s luscious little body under mine. I want to feel her skin against my own.
Why did I ever fight the thought of her as my wife? I have deprived us both of these pleasures until now. Never again.
A moment later, she’s naked, her clothing tossed on the floor. She lies back down on the bed and gazes up at me with hot eyes full of need, her hands sliding up and down her thighs. I’m fascinated by the sight of her. She’s so full of need, so soft, so plush. I want to put my mouth all over her and taste her everywhere I can.
In fact, I think I’ll do just that. I take one delicate foot in my hand and kiss the ankle. She squirms, ticklish, but doesn’t try to pull out of my grip. Her intense gaze is locked on me as I continue to move my mouth upward, from her calf to her knee, to her creamy thigh. I keep going…and there it is. Her cunt is covered by a little nest of curls, but it cannot hide the beauty of it, or the moisture that slicks through her folds.
I can wait no longer—I part her thighs and take a slow, loving taste of her.
Nicola’s cry of pleasure rings in my ears. She quivers against my face, and I enjoy that almost as much as I enjoy the taste of her—musky and delicious—on my tongue. I explore her with my mouth, learning her body, and am fascinated to find that she’s different from other females in that she has a little nub at the apex of her folds. When I touch it with my tongue, she goes mad…which makes me want to only do it more. I lavish attention on the tiny bit of flesh, teasing and coaxing it even as I explore her with a finger, and her hips press up against my mouth, her cries growing more and more frantic until she clutches at my horns, gives a little wail, and her body stiffens with the force of her pleasure.
“Oh,” she breathes. “Oh, Emvor.”
I nearly lose myself to my own pleasure at the wonder in her voice. She sounds so surprised that I could give her such feelings, make her body feel this way. It fills me with fierce satisfaction—I am the only one to ever touch her like this.
Good.
11
EMVOR
“I want to touch you,” she whispers when I sit up, and strokes a hand over my chest. “Learn all the ways you’re different. Not just your…tongue.” She blushes. “Human men don’t have ridges there.”
“Then it is good you do not have a human mate,” I tell her, unable to resist stroking a hand over her glorious little body again.
“I agree,” Nicola says, a dazed expression on her face. “Though I came too soon. We were supposed to come together.”
“I guess we shall have to keep practicing,” I tell her, and strip my trou off, releasing my cock. I wouldn’t mind going between her thighs again and licking her cunt until she screams my name once more, but I’m aching and greedy for her. I want to be deep inside her, filling her. I want her body clamped around mine.
Her eyes widen and she sits up on her elbows, staring at my cock. “What is that?”
Surely…surely she knows this much about mating? “This,” I tell her with
a proud gesture, “is a cock. I am going to put it inside you and give you a baby.”
Her mouth drops open, and then she giggles, her cheeks bright red. “I meant the thing above it. I know what a cock is.”
Ah. That’s a relief. I glance down to the short appendage above my cock, the finger-length hard jut of one thing in particular. “My spur?”
“Yes. What’s that for?”
I shrug. “It is not for anything. It is just there, much like my tail.” I am sure there is a medical reason for it, but nothing comes to mind at the moment. All I can think about is the lovely, naked sprawl of her on my bed and how I want to be over her. “It will not hurt you.”
“Okay,” she says, but her voice is shaky. Her expression is filled with doubt.
“Do you wish to stop?” I ask, moving to lie next to her on the bed. “Do you need more time? I do not mind if this is true.”
She shakes her head, putting her hand on my chest. “No. I was just surprised at the sight of it. I trust you.”
I put my hand to her neck and pull her close for another kiss, unable to hold back. I love touching her, tasting her. As we kiss, her arms go to my shoulders and I move slowly until I’m over her, my arms caging her in so I don’t crush her with my weight. Her slight form is under me, and when I glide a hand down her hip, she spreads her legs sweetly, waiting for me to fill her.
I bite back my groan. I must be controlled. This will be her first time, and she is small. Gentle, I warn myself.
But then she locks one of those slim legs around my hips and digs her foot into my buttock, dragging me forward. “Emvor,” she says, and my name sounds amazing on her tongue. “Come and claim me.”
I am a weak male and unable to resist such a request. I slide my body forward, fitting my hips between her thighs. My cock rests against the wet heat of her cunt, and I drag it back and forth, rocking it to wet it with her juices. A plas-film covering would be lubricated, so I know I need to get my cock wet enough to glide into her. This is my first time to have sex without the plas-film covering my body, and everything feels more intense, more immediate. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to go back after this.
Not that I’ll need to. I don’t want anyone but Nicola, ever again. She looks at me with soft, bliss-filled eyes, and her hands move over my shoulders and arms, as if she can’t stop touching me. I want to please her again, and that thought makes me go slowly as I fit the head of my cock against her tight entrance and slowly push forward. The clasp of her is tight, hot and aching, and it seems to take forever for me to even seat myself halfway.
It’s worth it, though, when she gives a little sigh and squirms underneath me, and I can feel every movement she makes. “I thought it would hurt, Emvor, but it feels so good.”
“Does it?” I rasp, barely keeping control. Instinct tells me to batter into the tight warmth of her, to claim her as savagely as possible, but I love the pleasure shining in her eyes too much to do such a thing. I ease my hips back and gently stroke into her, moving a little deeper and carefully watching her reaction. She closes her eyes and sighs with pleasure, her fingers digging into my shoulders in a silent encouragement for more.
I give her just that, stroking a little bit deeper with every careful rock of my hips, barely holding on to sanity as I slowly, gently claim her as mine. When I’m finally seated fully into her, I go still, savoring the feeling of her tight body clasping mine. I can feel every tremor that moves through her, every gasp of pleasure, every rippling clench of her cunt around my cock.
“My Nicola,” I tell her in a low voice. I reach up to caress her face, finding her beautiful despite the strangeness of her human features. “My wife.”
She moves her head and nips at the tip of my thumb with her lips, a playful encouragement for more. I groan and pump into her, unable to stop the involuntary movement of my hips. She gasps and her eyes brighten. “Oooh, I felt your spur against my clit. That’s amazing. Do it again.”
My sweet, perfect mate. I give her what she asks for, rocking into her with a slow, steady rhythm that feels better than anything I could imagine. Her body’s clasp is both tight and giving at once, and I love the feel of her under me, the way her breasts bounce with my thrusts, the way she moans and clutches at me with pleasure despite the increasing intensity of my movements.
“More, oh, please more!” she cries again, and I lose myself in her. Sweat sheens my body as I lose what little control I had left, pumping wildly into her, thrusting so hard that our bodies slide over the blankets and my horns slam into the headboard with every surge. I don’t care. I’ll buy another keffing headboard when I buy mechs the next time I’m in town. Doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but Nicola’s body underneath mine and the little cries of ecstasy she’s making as I claim her.
Then her cunt clamps down over my cock like a vise and I feel her rippling around me, her body stiffening, her mouth in a silent O of wonder as she comes again. My own release explodes through me, and I clench a hand in her hair, locking her body under mine as I hammer into her, filling her with my seed and branding her thoroughly as mine.
We collapse together in a heap of sweaty limbs and sticky skin. I’m fascinated at the feel of her—all of her—pressed up against me. She slides one arm around my waist and snuggles a little closer, giving a happy sigh.
“I liked that,” she tells me.
“You did?” I chuckle. “I couldn’t tell. It was impossible to hear anything over all the screaming and moaning—”
Her small hand covers my mouth before I can finish, and she giggles. “Did you just make a joke? My, Emvor gets laid and suddenly he’s a different man.”
Amused, I nip at her fingers. I do feel a little different. A little lighter. Happier. Far more possessive of my female than I ever thought possible. And nearly ready to claim her again, I realize, as I feel my cock stirring, still deep inside her. I stroke her hair back from her face. She’s still flushed and breathless. I’ll give her a moment before I take her again. She needs to rest.
I keep stroking her hair as she closes her eyes and cuddles up against me. I love this, our bodies entwined. It feels right. Perfect. This is what I always dreamed of when I thought of a mate, a wife. I realize I gave up on that dream when I came out here, alone. I thought I needed a work partner around the farm.
I don’t. I need a partner for my heart. A companion. A lover. And Nicola’s all I could ever want and more.
She makes a little noise and drags a finger along my collarbone. “We still got it wrong, you know.”
“Mmm? Got what wrong?” I lean in and nuzzle her smooth human brow.
“I came before you did. We didn’t time it right.”
“I think what I’m hearing,” I say slowly as I roll our twined bodies so she’s on her back again, “is that you need even more practice.”
“Lots and lots of practice,” she agrees, caressing me. “I hope that’s all right with you.”
I can think of nothing better.
THE END
COMING NOVEMBER 4TH
THE WOLF’S MAIL-ORDER BRIDE
ELLA GOODE
Cassie Madson doesn’t believe in true love, fated mates or happy ever after which is why when she’s approached by a matchmaker for a marriage of convenience, she agrees immediately. She needs a place to hide from her dangerous ex-boyfriend and the backwoods of upstate New York sounds perfect. She’ll vow to honor this stranger sight unseen, but she won’t love him.
Edon Rule believes in two things—the importance of his pack and the sanctity of the mate bond. When his new bride arrives, he recognizes instantly that Cassie is the only woman for him. He’s shocked when she doesn’t know he’s a shifter. Even worse, she declares that the marriage is only a business deal.
With the full moon nine days away, Edon has only a short time to convince Cassie that her true love exists—in the form of a werewolf!
COMING NOVEMBER 8TH
THE RUNAWAY MAIL-ORDER BRIDE
ALEXA RIL
EY
Willow Adams has been left with no choice. She’s run away from home and straight to a mail-order bride agency. She has no idea what to expect, but never in her wildest dreams did she anticipate him.
Dane York needs a marriage of convenience. He doesn’t have time to date, but he needs to have a certain image for his company, and some things are expected. Everything is perfectly planned out... That is, until he lays eyes on his new bride.
Warning: This classic trope is made to order with an obsessed billionaire and an innocent blushing bride. Grab your cozy socks and cuddle up with this ridiculously sweet novella.
COMING NOVEMBER 11TH
THE MIDWINTER MAIL-ORDER BRIDE
KATI WILDE
Some might call Princess Anja of Ivermere brave for offering herself up as a bride to Kael the Conqueror, a barbarian warlord who'd won his crown by the bloodied edge of his sword. It was not courage that drove Anja from her magic-wielding family’s enchanted palace, however, but a desperate attempt to secure a kingdom of her own—even if she has to kill the Conqueror to do it. She expects pain beneath his brutal touch as she awaits her chance. She expects death if he discovers the truth of her intentions.
She didn’t expect Kael to reject her and send her back to Ivermere.
Raised in the ashes of the Dead Lands, Kael fears nothing—certainly not the beautiful sorceress who arrives at his mountain stronghold. And no matter how painful his need for her, he has no use for a bride who would only tolerate his kiss. Yet the more of Anja's secrets he uncovers during their journey to return her home, the more determined he becomes to win the princess's wary heart.