by Kresley Cole
Her lips parted, her lids going heavy.
“I want to say filthy words in your ear, because it gets me hard”—he tightened his grip on her—“and because it’s a tool for me to use, like a third hand with which to pet you.”
She’d begun panting, her breasts rising and falling so temptingly. Her nipples now strained against the silk. Yet her hands still remained by her sides.
Could this be different from before? Because Chloe was different? He shook his head hard, now wishing for clarity. “I want total control of this situation, total domination of you, until my beast wrests it from my claws.” And in exchange, I’ll be giving you one-third of my soul. “I want you on that bed, awaiting my touch.” Now that he’d spelled out his wishes, imagining every one, nothing less would do. He’d feed her, on his own terms. “Have we an understanding?”
She shook her head.
Denying him! He dropped his hand with a growl. Why should he be surprised?
“I’d like my lips bruised from your kiss,” she began, “and I want you to come as many times as I do. Because that’s only fair. Right now, for some reason, the idea of you spanking me turns me on—as much as the neolithic idea of belonging to you. So I’d love for you to demonstrate what the hell that’s all about. And I’m asking you to use every filthy word you can think of, but stop calling me succubus.”
She climbed on the bed—awaiting his touch?
“Chloe?” His voice broke lower.
She removed her robe. Gods, her body took his breath away. She was thinner, but still so lovely. All curves and sweet hollows.
Yes, mayhap he’d find peace inside her.
When she was completely naked before him, she lifted her chin, as if daring him to come take her fire. “I’m waiting.” Then she lay back, reaching out her arms for him.
His heart seemed to stop. And this is why she’s my mate. In a daze, he joined her, passing the point of no return.
—Claim her. Provide!—
Nothing could keep him from doing both. Their fates were sealed.
THIRTY-FOUR
Lying beside her, MacRieve buried his fingers in her hair, holding her steady, his gaze on her mouth.
When he kissed her, he growled against her lips, “There’s my Chloe. It’s you.”
He sounded a shade less drunk—and relieved.
Chloe was as well. He hadn’t made her grovel, and they were in bed together. Waves of energy had begun to wash over her, like a fingertip rippling a still pool of water. Though she hadn’t forgiven or forgotten, she was happy to return his kiss.
So he needed her to give over control and let him call the plays? Lead the way, Coach. Everything he’d promised had excited her.
They would have sex, apparently wicked sex; but it wouldn’t mean anything.
Their tongues twined harder and harder until she was moaning into his mouth. His kiss was shattering. He’d wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her body captive against his, chest to chest, as he ravished her mouth.
He didn’t break that kiss until she was light-headed—and her lips were good and bruised. “MacRieve?”
His voice a rasp, he said, “It’s you, Chloe. It’s you I crave.” He gave her another whole-body squeeze, as if he wanted to feel all of her at once. As she lay beside him, his hands dipped down to knead her ass, grinding her mound against his shaft.
She could feel the blood-filled heat of it, scalding against her. “Oh, God, oh, God.” She threw her leg over his hip, wishing he’d put her beneath him, needing his weight on top of her.
“I’m goin’ tae take you tonight,” he said, his brogue thick.
“Yes, yes!” Just keep grinding.
“And I’ll do it how I need tae.”
Just as she was puzzling over his words, she felt his big palm land across her ass. Slap!
Her reaction shocked her. Sounds she didn’t recognize left her lips. She writhed for more, bucking against him. A cool draft of air streamed across the heated skin of her bottom, making her tremble.
He grated, “Now do you understand what the hell that’s all about?”
Somehow she found the presence of mind to cry, “Nope!”
Slap!
Her eyes rolled back in her head. She was all but levitating, dimly aware that she’d begun sucking on his neck. She tightened the leg over his hip, her foot spurring him.
But he was releasing her.
She blinked up at him. “What? Why?”
“Go tae your back. Keep your arms over your head.”
She nodded, biting her lip, wondering what he was going to do to her now.
He rose to his knees, leaning over her. His lips scorched a path from her neck toward one nipple, closing around it. When he suckled her hard, her back arched sharply. He moved to her other nipple, tormenting the peak with another harsh suck, but she loved it, grasping his head to hold him to her.
He nipped her breast. “Arms.”
She shuddered from his bite, a sexy reminder of who was driving tonight. Her arms collapsed over her head.
“Now part your legs.”
She drew her knees up and spread them, welcoming him.
He grated, “Good lass,” and knelt between them. He kissed down her belly, each thorough sweep of his lips making her hips rock. Once the backs of her thighs rested over his shoulders, he dipped his head down to nuzzle her thatch of hair.
“MacRieve!” She flooded with wetness when she realized he was inhaling her scent.
His eyes were heavy-lidded when he finally drew back. “Spread your thighs wider. Let me see what’s mine.”
She bent her knees, letting her legs fall wide.
His gaze was nearly palpable as he peered at her sex. And then . . .
He licked his gorgeous lips with such a possessive—predatory—look that she almost orgasmed at once.
When she’d spread herself in complete surrender, Will’s mouth had watered for her honey. He’d been without it for days.
He clamped her hips and licked the length of her. His sharp growl of pleasure drowned out her cries. “Woman, your taste!” With his second foray, he found her even wetter. He’d be feeding her soon, but right now she was feeding him the sweetest mead he’d ever tasted. He couldn’t lap it up quickly enough.
Between strokes of his tongue, he said, “Did you miss me licking your wet cunny? Tonguing it like this?” He delved deep.
“Oh, oh God . . . not fair . . .” She was on the brink.
Will wanted to tease her even longer, but his Instinct was tolling in his head like a bell:
—Claim your mate.—
His beast was already stirring. And Will felt certain his cock was about to explode.
“Going tae ready you for me, for the seed I mean tae give you.” He slipped a finger inside her, groaning when her untried sheath clenched around it. The moment seemed unreal. He was going to be inside his virgin mate. He could feel her delicate maidenhead, ready for him to claim.
He pressed his opened mouth over her clit to suck it till it throbbed between his lips.
Her hips tried to shoot up from the bed, but he kept her pinned. Her head thrashed, her drying hair streaming out over the pillow.
He wedged a second finger inside her. Brushing kisses against her swollen clit, he said, “Relax, my sweet, and open for me.” As he probed his fingers, her core stretched around them, her folds swelling in welcome.
His beast wouldn’t be denied much longer, was baying inside him to possess its female.
“Chloe, look at me.”
She cracked open her eyes.
“I’ll try tae stay in control as long as I can.” He sat up on his knees, positioning himself. “If I look into your eyes, I might be able tae remain with you longer.” He wanted to be above her like this, watching her expressions, mastering her, taking her like a man.
“And if not, I’ll be looking into your eyes while you change.” Her voice was miserable.
He had his mate in his bed, after
waiting nine centuries for her, and she was miserable. Why wouldn’t she be? She was about to lose her virginity to what she believed was a monster.
With his free hand, he awkwardly brushed her hair from her forehead, trying for tenderness, having no idea how to go about it. “I’ll tell you when tae close your eyes. You need tae relax again.” He fingered her entrance harder with shallow pumps, coaxing wetness. “There. That’s it, baby. Give me more of that.”
Her face was relaxing. Her nipples tightened into stiff little berries. He leaned down for a taste of each, earning a moan and more of her honey. It glistened on his fingers as he thrust them inside her.
When he drew his fingers from her, she gave a cry, twisting in the bed, undulating to be filled. His heart sang when she kept her arms above her head. “You’re ready, Chloe.”
Was he?
THIRTY-FIVE
With a shaking hand, MacRieve gripped his huge shaft, aiming it between her legs.
When he rubbed the crown up and down her sex, she was overwhelmed with the urge to claw his ass and draw him into her. Somehow she prevented herself.
Instead, she locked gazes with him, needing him to see that she’d never wanted anything more than this. She’d swear his eyes were telling her the same.
She felt pressure at her opening, the crown penetrating her, not to be denied.
“Tight, so tight,” he groaned.
Then the head was inside, pulsing, stretching her. But those twinges felt necessary, right. No longer a virgin, Chloe.
“Good?” he bit out. The tendons in his neck and all the muscles of his torso were straining. He’d begun to sweat, his skin sheening in the firelight. How badly he must need to thrust.
“Good.” She felt like she’d waited her entire life for that hot fullness. That feeling of puzzle pieces clicking together. She gazed up at him in surprise. “Really good.”
“More?” he rasped, vulnerability in his gaze.
She nodded. Only to regret it immediately when a pinching sensation flared inside her. More was a little much. “It hurts.”
His brows drew tightly together. “It’ll pass, I promise.”
As he pressed deeper, she tried to focus on anything but the pain. She studied his expression. He looked anguished. So much was going on inside his head that she couldn’t begin to comprehend.
Yet she also saw his eyes flickering blue.
How much time did she have until she was supposed to close her eyes and let that thing have her?
Will was already fighting not to come inside her impossibly tight cunny—and fighting the beast, who wanted its turn with their virgin mate.
No, not yet! Will wasn’t even all the way in. More hurriedly, he rocked his hips, pushing farther inside.
She gritted her teeth, but didn’t say anything.
Pressure. Everywhere. From his rising beast. From the scorching clutch of her sheath. From his consuming need not to hurt her.
Pressure increasing with every inch deeper. Sweat slicked his skin, running down his spine.
Finally he was as far as he could go. Gazing down at her with pride, he bit out, “You’ve taken me.” He reached forward to stroke her hair again. “Good girl.” He drew his hips back so he could sink back into that moist heaven. His head fell back as pleasure bombarded him. “Ah, you feel so fucking amazing!”
No response. He gazed down. “Chloe?”
Her cheeks were flushed, her lips thinned. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. But it’s not . . . enjoyable.”
Somehow he resisted the tight tug of her sex to pull almost all the way out. Keeping her on the tip, he put his palms under her back, scooping her up to suck on her sensitive breasts. His lips clamped onto a nipple, his arms crisscrossing her back, holding her for the taking.
“Ohhh!” The sound of her delight was almost his undoing. “Better!” She fisted the sheets beside her hips.
Will kept himself from thrusting until she was wriggling on the end of his cock, wetting the head for more. “You want it deep inside you?”
“Deeper!”
Laying her back down, he raised himself above her on straightened arms. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto her quivering breasts as he surged his hips forward between her thighs. Her core clenched his every inch, wresting a strangled groan from his chest. “Ah! Deeper still?”
“God, yes!” The rapture in her cry . . .
As he rocked his shaft home again and again, she tried to meet his thrusts. “MacRieve, I’m close! More!”
“Give you what you need!” He was satisfying her, taking her like a normal man. Experiencing pleasure such as he’d never known. In this, he felt as much a virgin as she.
He was overwhelmed by how perfect she felt. Waited my entire life to be inside her.
“Don’t stop, please!”
That was the plea he’d craved! “Say it again.”
“Please. It’s so good!”
When he increased his rhythm for her, his beast roared inside him, nigh frenzied to possess her.
Will gazed down, seeking the anchor of her gaze.
The sight sent an icy chill through him. Her eyes glowed with her arousal.
“Succubus green,” he hissed.
Just like Ruelle’s. Because Chloe was greedy to feed off his body. When he saw her claws flaring, chills swept over his damp skin. His breaths began to whistle.
As if he suffocated under pale flesh.
Canna get enough air! His chest heaved, his lungs burning for breath.
Ah, gods, he was losing his erection. No, no, he needed to perform, to provide. This was his mate, and she was hungry.
Yet just as he’d feared, he couldn’t stay hard—as if his body was refusing to surrender what hers demanded.
“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” She rocked on him. Of course she could feel his erection waning.
And just like before, he would let his beast rise up to do the dirty work for him. “Chloe, close your eyes.” His own claws began to lengthen. To pierce her skin, to hold Mate steady for seed. His fangs grew in his mouth. To mark her flesh.
“Already?” She squeezed her eyes closed. Her body trembled against him. “Will it hurt me?”
“No’ on purpose.” His voice was growing distorted, his impulses no longer his own. The beast inhaled deeply of his mate’s scent, and his cock responded, swelling like a rod inside her.
“MacRieve, I’m scared.”
“Know that the beast . . . aches for you,” he choked out right before it took over.
Will watched in horror as it maneuvered Chloe to her hands and knees. It dug its claws into her hips, wrenching her back on his shaft, farther than Will had gone.
Impaled, she cried out as the beast seated itself deeply, positioning her to best receive its savage thrusts. With the beast at the fore, Will bucked into her again . . . and again . . . until he was riding his mate hard, growling over her with delight.
She was taking him, moaning. Was she getting wetter? Wishful thinking?
Soon he’d spend, soon it’d be over, this deed done.
The closer he got to coming, the more his fangs ached to mark her neck, to claim her forever—because his will was not his own. A thread of resentment grew, outdistancing the other feeling that was growing.
Obsession.
His semen had climbed, about to erupt uncontrollably. The beast tightened its hold on her to better deliver it to her womb, then leaned down to mark her neck.
Somehow, just before he ejaculated, Will exerted control for just long enough to prevent that claim—
A roar burst from his lungs as his seed jetted out of his cock, torrents so powerful that even the beast shuddered in awe.
Between heaving breaths, he bellowed to the ceiling as he filled her, over and over, plunging into his own hot spend.
Then came that last mind-scrambling draw. A succubus’s extra pull. So many years distant; yet so familiar. He quaked violently, powerless as the last of his semen was wrung from him.
>
With a groan, he collapsed atop her shivering body. She was panting, pinned on his length, squirming.
He’d been close to satisfying her. Yet in the end, she’d found no release.
Not like he had. That last indescribable pull . . .
The beast receded reluctantly, Will driving it back. It was normal for a Lykae’s beast to praise its mate after sex, licking and kissing her with abandon under the light of the full moon. I’m no’ normal, dark and twisted. He felt sick.
He’d fed a succubus—was hardening inside her even now. No, not again. Two times is too close to three. One-third of his soul was enough for this night.
Without a word, he withdrew from her body, then rose. He dragged on his jeans, breathing deep to cage his beast completely. Her sweet succubus scent filled his senses until he was drowning in it.
Dragging me down . . .
He ran for the toilet to be sick.
THIRTY-SIX
That didn’t just happen.
Chloe hadn’t known what to expect for her first time. But she’d never imagined she’d get railed from behind by a werewolf—or that her first lover would dash to the bathroom to vomit directly after.
She lay stunned on the bed, trying to process everything that had just occurred. All she knew for certain was that he was sickened by sex with her, and that she would never repeat this ever again.
At first, she’d thought she could enjoy having him inside her. She’d even been close to orgasm, until he’d started to . . . flag.
He’d known it, she’d known it. And then she’d seen him gritting his teeth, endeavoring to get through it, as if sex with her was a grueling last lap to be completed.
When that hadn’t worked, he’d tagged out with the beast, letting it finish something he was too disgusted to do himself.
Fear had assailed her. But when the beast had turned her over and taken her, it hadn’t been as bad as she’d thought it would be.
She’d even chanced a peek back at MacRieve’s wolven face. It hadn’t been nearly as terrifying as last time. And she’d realized why: the one time she’d seen the shadow of the beast before, it had been wavering over MacRieve’s mask of hatred.