“I do. I want your cock in my…in my cunt,” she moaned, sharp, keen desire pumping vividly beneath the surface of her skin, making her glow with hunger, swelling her lips and pounding fiercely in the pulsing vein he could see so clearly beneath the thin, silken hollow at the base of her throat. “Dare it all. Everything. I want everything you have to offer. Damn it, I’ve waited so long for you, I bloody well deserve it.”
A slow, satisfied smile played at the corner of his mouth. “You ask for much, lass. The only question is can you take it?”
If he had still been a beast, he would have snorted with savage frustration when the voice that answered him came from Grae.
“Oh, she can take it, Zarn,” the lycan drawled, moving forward to take her other wrist from Zarnak’s hold. Grae wrapped his dark hands around her fragile bones and pulled her arms above her head, until he flattened her wrists against the smooth stone, so that her arms were lifted and spread in a wide vee, his body bending forward, one hip cocked arrogantly to the side as he stared down at them. “I’d bet my sword she can take whatever you can deliver,” he added, and Zarnak could see that his teeth were still changed, still too long and lethal to be normal, gleaming in the ethereal shafts of moonlight…which meant Grae’s beast was far from satisfied.
Too damn fucking bad.
“I don’t recall asking you, Grae,” he rasped, and his friend knew him well enough to know that the low, silky tone was more of a warning than if he’d shouted.
“Don’t go getting all ruffled on my account,” the man muttered, shaking his golden head until the long locks were falling over his brow, shielding his gaze. “I didn’t fuck her with my tongue. All I did was lick her. Don’t I get any credit for restraint?”
“Restraint?” he repeated, curling his lip as the low word left his mouth. “You call it restraint bringing my woman here against my will, placing her upon The Altar Stone, and then shoving your face in her quim?”
A soft, snuffling noise filled the air as a small grin twisted the lycan’s mouth. “I was trying to help,” he laughed softly, which Zarnak knew was at least half true. Yes, he had started out helping, but along the way his motives had changed. His beast had risen up and taken notice of the beautiful woman lying before them…and then pride had intervened to gouge its dangerous claws into his skin and goad him beyond acting the part of the helpful matchmaker that he claimed to be.
And the scent of lilacs on the wind, buried deep beneath the ripe, heady scent of Tess’ need, told Zarnak exactly what had pushed Grae and his beast past the point of his friend’s control.
As if he knew what was coming, the lycan’s upper lip curled and he growled, “Do not say it, damn you.”
Softly, ignoring the blatant warning, he said, “I know she is here.”
A raging anger swirled through the burnished depths of Graedor’s glare, and then he shook his head again, the movement more animal than man. “Svarqak, do you miss nothing?”
Wondering how long Graedor would continue to fight his own demons, Zarnak offered a warning of his own. “Be careful what games you play, Grae. That one, though she is young, is not a woman to trifle with.”
“Nae. She’s just a bitch,” Graedor sneered, and all but spat the last.
Zarnak snorted, quickly losing patience with the conversation, considering his very life lay beneath him, spread and eager, precisely where he had always wanted her. No, he was not going to waste such time arguing with his bull-headed friend, when he could be feasting upon his heart’s desire. “If you really thought that, you’d stop rutting like a dog on anything with breasts within The Wood, trying to make her jealous.”
“Fuck you,” the lycan snarled.
“I’ll be fucking, yes,” he growled, cutting his glare from Graedor to the soft, so incredibly sweet and tender woman pinned beneath him, her shy dark eyes staring up at him in fascinated wonder, hanging onto his every word. A slow, mischief-born grin curled slowly across his mouth as he said, “But you’re not invited, my friend.”
“No, I only get to hold her hands and play nice,” the man he called blood brother sneered. “I’m suddenly wondering if I didn’t like you better as a bloody horse.”
Zarnak merely lifted a brow in reply. “No, that’s not all you get, Graedor.” With hot, hungry eyes, he watched Tess’ soft pink mouth tremble beneath the press of his gaze, and the animal part of him that had become ingrained into his nature lifted its head, sniffing the air with feral excitement, wanting to take that tender hole with a brutal, savage claiming. But the sidhe part of him struggled against the consuming needs of the beast, and tempered its primitive wants with the intensity of its own. He wanted to take that tempting mouth with a long, eating kiss, but he didn’t want to hurt her to the point that it went beyond pleasure, though he didn’t mind taking her to the edge. No, in that the beast and the sidhe warrior were closer than he had ever before realized, the power of the one able to curb the ferocity of the other. But they both hungered for the total consumption of her, for the claiming of every lush, precious inch of that tender body and the remarkable strength of her character.
And they both wanted that mouth. Wanted to change that blushing rose to a deep, bruised pink. Wanted to thrust their tongue into the sweet well beyond her lips and learn every touch, every taste and texture that lay hidden within. The ache in his cock drummed a painful cadence of blood and need, hungry for the tight, wet bite of her creaming cunt, the throbbing head on the verge of eruption as it swelled between them, but he battled against his needs for just a few moments more. He didn’t want to lose her in the rush. No, he wanted her eyes wide, wanted her focus clear and undazed, so that he could watch every pulse of pleasure as it rolled through her with crisp, crystal clarity. He didn’t want it hazy or softened. He wanted it sharp and in focus. Unlike their dreams, he wanted everything, every sound and scent and physical sensation in wickedly vivid detail, so that he could soak her in…and in return, spill all that he was into her.
“Gods, I just want to crawl up inside you,” he growled, as he lowered his face and thrust his tongue deep between the damp silk of her parted lips, slaking his senses with that first rushing burst of her flavor. It exploded over his taste buds, perfect and rich and so fucking incredible it nearly had him showering cum over her stomach. Finally, he felt all those separate pieces of want and hunger and need click into place, locking together as one. Ripping his mouth from hers, he licked her distinct, utterly feminine flavor from his lower lip as his breath battered his lungs, and held her dark gaze as he spoke to the man who held her. “No, you do not only get to hold her, Grae.” He cast a quick glance up at the glaring lycan, and let a slow, wicked smile curve his mouth. “Because I want to make certain you understand fully who she belongs to, my friend,” he drawled huskily, “I’ve decided you get to watch.”
“And if I want another taste?” Tess heard Graedor ask, and she shivered as the werewolf’s thumbs stroked the damp heat of her palms.
“You’ll die,” Zarnak answered, his voice implacable.
Graedor made that soft, snuffling sound again, and Tess suddenly realized that it was more of an animal sound, than a human one. “The way I’m feeling right now, I’d almost like to see you try.”
For a moment, the hard beauty of the silver-haired warrior’s mouth twisted with an almost cruel eagerness. “Would you like to put it to the test?”
“Nae,” the gorgeous, golden-haired giant sighed, sounding clearly disappointed. “It would be beyond bad taste, even for me, to injure you now, so I’ll hold the beauty as you fuck her.” Smiling down at her, he winked and said, “But don’t expect me to thank you for it, when I’d rather it were me breaking open that sweet little cunt. And I sure as hell know I’m going to get sent away from here hard and aching, with no relief for myself.”
“Your balls may be blue,” Zarnak laughed with a rough burst of sound that shivered down her spine, “but you’ll live.”
“Gods,” the other man groaned, shaking
his head, “just get on with it then.”
And just like that, Tess felt Zarnak’s full focus wrap around her once again, and she quivered with the power of it.
Feeling breathless and almost helpless in her overwhelming desire, she stared up at the man above her, her eyes wide as she drank in the most mesmerizing, yet entirely masculine face she’d ever seen. She shook, quaking, as thoroughly aroused as she was suddenly somewhat cautious. If she’d thought he’d been intimidating as a mighty horned battle horse, as the magnificent unicorn, it was nothing compared to the fierce lines of power etched into the long, brawny length of his mouthwatering form. He rippled with muscles with each harsh breath he took into his lungs, the lean line of his nose flaring as he scented her need, scented the warm cream spilling helplessly from her pussy. A scent that even Tess could distinguish in the air. She tried to be worldly, but her cheeks burned, hot and fierce and bright. Damn, she was so turned on it was almost unsettling, but then this man had always made her feel drugged with need. He was, she imagined, in some ways like a chemical addiction that she craved, and somehow she knew that the more she had of him, the more she would need.
Just the thought of him burying himself within her sent a strange, buzzing warmth, like an internal glow, spreading through her blood. A red, pulsing flood of power, rushing with the currents of the sea that she could hear crashing against a rocky surface in the far, far distance, channeled through her veins as it filled her up, taking up all her space, reaching out for the connection with this magnificent…creature. He was no man, and yet, her body seemed to recognize him, as if seeking the other half of an intricate puzzle. She’d read of the kind of love that knew itself in that first moment of recognition—and as strongly as her logical mind wanted to rage against it, her heart knew what she’d found here. Something beautiful that had been born in her dreams, and that now she could hold in her arms. Well, that she could have held had her arms not been pinned by a smart-assed, grinning werewolf. It was a situation she had never expected to find herself in, but at least now no one could label her life as boring, she thought with a wry inner smile that never quite found her lips.
She drew in Zarnak’s scent, and her senses awakened, quickened like the fluttering pulse of familiarity firing through her brain. Oh yes, she knew this man. Recognized him. Almost knew him better than she knew herself.
He planted one hand against the rock, near the side of her face, levering the upper half of his body above her, and reached out with the other to cup the side of her throat in a warm, rough palm, and she marveled at how something so breathtakingly perfect could be so rugged. But he was. His beauty was spellbinding, yes, but he was entirely male, with that warm, musky scent of sweat and the scarred body of a warrior. His scars were faint and silvery with age, but they were there, proving that he had lived the life of a warrior before his time as the unicorn. Even his palms were calloused from the hard work of battle and more than likely the hold of his sword. His roughened thumb stroked beneath her chin, and she shivered as he said in that low, sin-rich voice, “If you truly want me, tell me again, little one. Tell me now, while I am still able to listen.”
Amazingly, the breaking of her virginity by the beast’s horn hadn’t left her in pain—it had only left her hungry—and she honestly couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than to have him inside her, as deep as he could possibly go.
“I want…” she panted, lungs burning as she struggled for the ability to speak, her throat tight with lust as it all but boiled through her blood, heating her body to such a fevered pitch, she was amazed she didn’t simply melt over the rock in a wash of blood and bone. Hardening her jaw, she battled against the physical aches of hunger for all that he offered, and gave the words he needed to seek his pleasure. Gave them with the knowledge that she would never be more certain of anything for as long as she lived—whether that life lasted five minutes or fifty years. “I want you. All of you. Now!” she demanded, smiling at the sound of command in her words.
“Then you’ll have me, lass.”
The look of tenderness and raw, undiluted desire that flared from his eyes in response to her words made Tess feel as if he’d fallen into her soul. That was the only way to describe how it felt—the wondrous rush of his presence shifting within her skin, as if they shared the same body, even though he’d yet to fill her with that mouthwatering hardness lodged so demandingly against her, rubbing deliciously against the tingling flesh of her sex as he rolled his hips. And yet, she was in him as well. She could feel the beating of his heart, thudding there beneath the solid wall of his muscled chest, without even touching it. Feel the heaviness of his magnificent erection, the burning ache of hunger in his balls as they pressed against that needy part of her that wanted him deep, pierced into her, shoved hard and heavy and demanding, filling her up until there was no more emptiness. And she could feel his own need, feel the grinding, insistent, painful compulsion to cram her full of himself and fuck her so powerfully it would be a wonder that she didn’t simply break apart around him or be smashed into the chilled surface of the stone. She could feel it all. And the need—that want—that insatiable hunger called to her, recognizing its counterpart and demanding urgent, immediate satisfaction.
“You’ve waited so long,” she quietly murmured, longing to caress the hot side of his damp face as he shuddered above her, simply marveling at his rugged beauty that fit so perfectly here, within this lush, primeval forest. “You’ve no need to wait anymore. I told you before what I want from you. Here. Now.”
Frustrated, he shook his head, the lines of his thick lashes low over his eyes, as if he could shield her from the glittering flare of an almost vicious need burning there. Cautiously, as if trying to warn her of something that he would have rather kept to himself, he said, “That many years worth of lust is more than a lot to take from a man, Tess.”
“I can take it,” she responded, coming to the poignant realization that despite the stunning impact of his physical beauty, that gorgeous body, melting voice and seductive eyes, what did it for her the most wasn’t the way he looked. No, it was the things he said, the maelstrom of feelings surging from him and seeping into her own body. Despite being the most incredible thing she had ever laid eyes on, he was even more beautiful inside. Not sweet, or even necessarily gentle, but he was honest and true, remarkably intelligent and fiercely loyal. Unbelievably strong, both in body and character, and he was hers. For that, she could take anything he could deliver. The smile in her heart bloomed across her mouth, and she arched up against him, pressing the hard planes of his chest with her sensitive nipples, and said, “Just try me.”
I can take it.
Just try me…
The provocative words slammed into him with the bruising force of a physical assault, and suddenly he had no more time to offer her. He had to have her. That very instant.
“Next time,” he muttered, all but snarling in his excitement, “I’ll have you in a cottage, against the walls, on the floors, across the bloody table and the down-filled bed. But first I get a true taste of this hot little quim which belongs to naught but me. I’ve waited too fucking long to wait one second more.”
One moment she was blinking up at him, gasping, “Yes, please. Just do it now,” and in the next she was screaming as he pulled back his hips, planted his feet in the high, soft grass of the forest floor, and pressed the already wet head of his cock against her drenched little hole. Then, with his pulse roaring in his ears, he forced the heavy, rigid width straight through that blissfully tight opening.
“Oh gods, little one, you’ll be the death of me,” he whispered darkly against her ear, and for the first time in his life, Zarnak understood what it felt like to sink into paradise.
A torrent of sensations instantly crashed down on him, and he locked his jaw from the deliciously snug grip and hot, liquid heat that convulsed around the buried head of his dick. Overcome with the pleasure, he sobbed out some kind of harsh, indistinct snarl of sound, an
d helplessly gave a thick, grinding shove that pushed him into her—forced him inside as he fed his rigid flesh deeper and deeper, making her pull wide in those secret places where tissues had never before been spread, penetrated, pulled apart. She was sopping and slick with her hot, slippery cream, but it still wasn’t a glide. He was too big and the movement powered by his hard frame and those rigid, taut muscles was too grinding, too forceful and intent to be smooth. No, he forged his way into her, split her open and made her take everything he had to give. All of him. The thick rim of his cock shoved farther and farther into her, until he came up hard against her cervix and drilled those last inches in with a hard, savage thrust that felt like he was splitting her open, as if he’d come right out the other side.
“So wet. So fucking tight,” Tess heard him rumble, the sound of his voice coming to her through layers of intense, burning physical awareness. “I knew your hot little cunt would be the sweetest fuck I’ve ever known.”
At first, she had thought that burning pressure would simply kill her, rip her apart, never to be put back together, but then the ache eased and she realized she was still whole. Her hands clutched at Graedor’s hold, and she breathed a small, shallow burst of relief. But she was still dazed with a strange, pulsing mixture of pleasure and pain that made her want to hit and claw and make Zarnak…force him…to move within her, combined with a heated, blinding panic that wanted to shove him away so that she could climb inside herself and try to find the woman that she’d been.
But that person was no more, and Tess suddenly understood with a jolting shock that made her internal muscles squeeze him even tighter, pulling another low, rumbling growl from that too beautiful mouth, that she would never be the same again. She should have been hot and warm with joy at throwing off that cold, hard shell of fear that had been her life for so long, but suddenly a new fear claimed her. A fear that found life within her, buried deep down inside, not made from the fabric of reality surrounding her. Not from any physical presence or danger. No, this fear came from her. An inner, tiny terror that she knew could become consuming if she didn’t find a way to control it. A fear of what this man, this being or creature or whatever the hell he was, could mean to her. The heavy presence of his cock buried deep, crammed painfully tight inside her body only foreshadowed the burrowing, thrusting movement of her powerful feelings for him. Wrenching, terrifying emotions that seemed to eat their way into her heart, and it was a hot, crimson-colored panic that claimed her. This man could become her everything, the very foundation of her life, and it was a terrifying thought. Terrifying, not only because of the control that the surrender of her love would give him over her, but because her life already had a chosen path…and no matter how tempting, she could not change it for him.
Horn of the Unicorn Page 9