I changed tactics, slipping my hands beneath the T-shirt until I cupped her breasts.
“I like you like this,” I murmured.“Wet. Ready for me.” I tightened my grip until she sucked in a sharp breath.
I wasn’t used to feeling another person’s flesh—but hers felt right. Clean. Bearable.
I kneaded the softness until my thumbs brushed her nipples.
Her scent deepened.
I dipped my head until I could hear her pulse beating in her neck. Until her scent wrapped around us—warm, sweet, and ours to own. I tugged at her nipples, feeling them harden beneath my touch.
Fenrir wanted her.
And I wanted my release.
I moved back just long enough to unzip and ease my aching cock free. Two days I’d resisted. I was more than ready. I pushed the T-shirt aside and tapped my cock against her.
The wet, slapping sounds filled the room.
“Do you hear that?” I asked, smearing my length through her slick heat.
She didn’t reply. She didn’t need to.
My fingers curled around her thigh as I rubbed the head between her wet lips.
Ours, Fenrir hissed.
I agreed—because I would never give this up.
A human who didn’t repel me.
I guided myself inside her, feeling her stretch to accommodate me—hugging me just as tightly as she had two days ago. I slipped my hand beneath my T-shirt, cupping her soft flesh in my palm.
Yes. I could get used to touching her.
I held her in place and thrust upward. She drew me in as if her body had been shaped for me. Her broken cry didn’t stop her muscles from welcoming me—clenching, working me, pulling me home.
“Good,” I hissed close to her ear.“Work that pussy for me.”
Her fingers clawed at the glass, but her body betrayed her again, gripping me hard enough to tear a growl from my chest. I pressed closer, giving her what she never voiced but begged for all the same. With every upward thrust, I felt her slick coat my length. With every ragged breath, her pulse thundered louder.
I gripped her hip and drove into her—long, deep thrusts. Her head tipped back, resting against my chest. The pace turned brutal, my knot pressing insistently until she leaked over it.
This wasn’t sex.
It wasn’t ritual.
It was compulsion—a need to bury myself as deep as possible, to drown in her heat, to lose myself in her scent.
My trousers slapped against her sweet arse cheeks. Our laboured breathing tangled together, but the most satisfying sound was how perfectly she took my dick—slick, tight, and unbearably hot.
I glanced down at the vulnerable line of her neck. Releasing her breast, I gripped it hard.
Fenrir surged upright. I held him back, barely, as her pussy fluttered around me.
My vision began to blur. My balls drew tight.
“Yes,” I hissed.
