My lips grazed the side of her ear as I slipped two fingers from my free hand into her wet heat. “Do you want to come?” I pumped my fingers in and out of her body. Slow. Then fast. I held her gaze as I played with her pussy. Absorbed every gasp and sigh and flutter of the pulse at the base of her neck.
“Yes.”
I reached for the tip of her womb, staked my claim as her back arched. “I’m going to make you come. Then I’m going to fuck you. Make you mine. Do you understand?”
She nodded, her small hands clinging to my shoulders.
“Say it.”
“Yes. Make me yours.”
The sight of my mating cuffs on her wrists woke a primal part of me that had nothing to do with the beast and everything to do with being a possessive, protective Atlan male. I’d fought countless battles for this moment. Survived capture and torture at the hands of the Hive. Destroyed countless enemies. Ripped them apart with my bare hands.
Hands that now cradled the softness of my mate’s swollen pussy. Tangled in silken curls that framed a fragile, feminine face. Strength that I’d once used to tear soldiers in half, I now used to gently tease and stroke my mate’s clit. Give pleasure, instead of pain.
The feeling was new. Addictive. Heal rather than harm. Gentleness instead of savagery. The level of control needed to care for and seduce my mate was like a drug, a battle all its own. I wanted more. Needed more.
I watched her face as I stroked her pussy and clit, increased the speed and depth, bent my fingers inside her to stroke her inner walls.
Holding her head steady, I watched her come apart. Her eyes closed. Her breath held. Her body arched into mine as if trying to get closer. The walls of her pussy fluttered and pulsed around my fingers as a long, slow moan escaped her lips.
I buried the sound under my kiss. Caressed her wet heat as I took her mouth.
I would never get enough of this. Being with my mate was the antithesis of every moment in my life. There would forever be before and after. The Warlord who existed to fight in battle ceased to exist, replaced by the male who existed to protect and care for his mate.
A much more enjoyable existence.
The moment her body settled, I released her to free my cock from the uncomfortable human clothing.
Krystal gasped when she saw the hard length, reached for me.
I could not allow her to touch me. I was on the razor’s edge. Her taste on my tongue. Her cries of pleasure fresh in my ears. If she touched me, I would lose control.
Hands wrapped around her waist, I lifted her. Turned her so she faced the cabinets, her knees on the countertop. I shoved the small slip of fabric that attempted to cover her wet center to the side with one finger. Positioned my cock at her entrance. Shifted.
Slipped inside her. Barely. Just the tip of my cock invaded her tight, hot pussy.
“I can’t… I need something to hold on to,” she gasped.
My brilliant little problem-solving mate opened the cabinet door and grabbed onto one of the shelves as I pressed my cock into her body from behind. I buried myself to the hilt in one slow, smooth thrust that lifted her weight off her knees.
“Oh god.”
Fuck yes. I was her god now.
I slipped one hand around to stroke her clit as I withdrew and filled her again. And again. Her knuckles turned white where she held onto the shelves, tried to use them as leverage to shift her hips. To escape or take me deeper, I did not know. Didn’t matter now. I was inside her. Fucking her. Filling her. Claiming her. My scent would be all over her skin, my seed in her womb. My mating cuffs were on her wrists.
She. Was. Mine.
Her dress was in my way. Her breasts covered. I cupped one full lobe through the fabric and gently squeezed her nipple. Rolled it. Pinched. Held my cock perfectly still inside her to play, to learn what made her wild.
When I pulled her nipple and her clit at the same time, her body shuddered. Her back arched. A soft whimper left her throat.
Excellent.
I did it again. And again.
Moved my hips. Fucked her as I played with her body.
