I almost protested because I wanted to touch him, to feel him beneath my fingers as he claimed me, but I knew he was doing this—taking my control from me so all my focus could be on him and not what was happening outside.
Slowly, I put the hands above me, and that was when Thrax started moving again.
He pulled back so the head rested just at my opening, and then shoved himself into me with a force that made my back arch off the bed. The motion was clean, brutally so. Again, he pulled almostentirely free and drove back in so hard that a white hot pleasure lanced through me, stars flashing behind my closed eyes as I cried.
“Shit, Thrax—yes.”
He did it again and again, and instinctively, I made to move my hand from above my head so I could anchor myself by touching him, but as if Thrax knew my next move, hestrappedme...
Something invisible held me fast, pinning my hands back to the bed, and I knew for sure that Thrax wasn’t touching me.
The helplessness brought a sharp, ecstatic panic that poured straight into my cunt. “Did you...”
I realised, with a flicker of awe, that he was holding me with his mind; some part of him had reached out and bound me. It was intoxicating, the feeling of being restrained without a single hand on me, of being made wholly his.
The immobility was absolute and maddening, making the next thrusts feel deeper, more ferocious.
My heart thudded loud in my chest, beating so fast I could hardly catch up. It was the rush, the sweet rush of being restrained, of my power being limited. I relished how every barrier fell away until there was nothing between me and the full force of him.
“Thrax...” I called, moving to turn my hips and feel more movements of him inside me, but he held my waist in place.
I was rendered absolutely motionless beneath him.
He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I only want your focus on me. Behind your closed eyes, picture me. Your ears should only be filled with my voice. I’m taking over your thoughts right now, Sanora, and I’m consuming it.”
And he did.
Thrax pulled out, ramming back in—hard, hard enough that the bed moved under us. I cried out in pleasure, sparks going off in my stomach at the hard entrance. He slipped back again to the tip, and I readied myself for another crude entrance...but nothing could haveprepared me for the way he rammed himself into me, so intense he swore.
The world bent and the bed creaked as he filled me, making me cry out each time he slammed home. Each thrust knocked every thought out of me, erasing everything that wasn’t the two of us, until all I knew was the heat and the pounding.
I even lost sight of who I was right then and there, fighting against the invisible restraint as I begged him to slow down, to not stop, to keep going, and to go harder.
I was simply losing my mind.
When he moved away and knelt upright, grabbing my hips and raising it, I knew I was utterly finished, and I was loving it.
When he thrust in from that new height, all I could do was cry from too much pleasure. I felt used, worshipped, and ruined in the best way possible.
“Oh fuck,Thrax,” I keened, my voice shredding when he started controlling my hips, making me meet his strokes halfway. Not only was he pounding into me viciously, he was now tugging my hips back and forth, making the impact and collision even two times harder than before.
“Please...please—yes,” I begged between raw pants, the blindfold turning every sound and sensation up to a cruel, delicious volume.
“Don’t stop—please.” My voice trembled into a high whimper whenever he hit that perfect angle that split me open.
It was too much. He wastoomuch.
Thoughts slid out of my head like spilled ink; all I could hear was our skin slapping, the high, raw sound of my own voice begging and begging, because gods, he was too deep, too fast, and he seemed to have none of the careful restraint I’d imagined an immortal might keep. For a man who hadn’t touched anyone in six hundred years, he was all animal now—swollen need and no mercy. And the knowledgethat I was the first person he was intimate with in six centuries shifted me closer to my orgasm.
My destruction was near, and it tasted bloody. If the orgasms I’d had with him so far had been good, this one felt like it might finally make me black out.
I was a crying mess of pleasure and pain, a girl who was utterly at his mercy. I turned my head, biting into my arm to keep from screaming the loud way I wanted to, and although somewhere in the back of my head, I knew fucking him meant wrecking myself, I had not anticipated the depth of the ruin — the way it rewired me, the way it left me high and shaking.
“Please, oh gods, please—Thrax,I’m going to come...” My mouth babbled nonsense because language was useless against what he was doing.
Heat coiled in my lower stomach, wrapping tighter and tighter, my whole body tensing and my knees threatening to give. I pulsed and clenched around him, trying to hold myself as the tide washed towards me in ragged, hungry waves.
“Thrax, please, yes. Don’t stop, I’m coming,” I pleaded desperately.
