Play,his elvish side crowed.Our mate wants to play.
Elves loved to provoke. They claimed it was an essential part of the courtship dance, the act of establishing trust and dominance in a relationship. He’d been skeptical before, but he understood it now. Atria needed to know that if she bit him, he would never react with violence in return.Heneeded to know that she trusted him enough to fight. It was push and pull.
A game.
Aware enough to realize Atria’s instincts differed from his, Kaz pulled back just enough to look into her eyes and demand, “Bite me, princess. Scratch me. Mark me up. Show me how much you want your mate and I’ll do the same.”
Her arms came down. Threading her fingers into his sweat-dampened hair, she turned his head to one side, baring his throat. Her lips skimmed the cords of his neck when she breathed, “Fuck me, Kaz.”
Blunt human teeth sank into his skin. Pleasure unlike anything he’d ever known burst across every nerve, heightened by the dull pain.
Elves were a primal sort of people, though they went out of their way to pretend otherwise in public. Throats held a particular meaning to them, not only because they played a key role in fights for dominance, but because their instincts made them crave theelvish embrace:holding one’s partner by the throat, upper and lower fangs pressed into the delicate skin covering both jugular veins.
Obviously, Kaz had never given anyone leave to hold him that way before. Most elves didn’t. Only consorts had that kind of trust, and even then, it was a vulnerable position many elves would prefer not to be in.
Kaz had never once craved the embrace. But when Atria clamped her blunt little teeth over his jugular like that, he suddenly understood the appeal.
Endorphins rushed through his veins as the elvish part of him roared with satisfaction and the thrill of a challenge.
Tangling his fingers in her hair, he pulled her back, angled her head up, and clamped his fangs over her throat, establishing himself not only as a mate she could trust with her vulnerabilities, but the dominant one of the pair.
Kaz’s higher mind gave way to the beast.
Atria let out a choked gasp as his hips began to move, dragging his cock out and then forcing it back in again. It was not a smooth process. Every thrust was a glorious battle to force himself back in. A deep, rumbling growl filled the air. If he could have spoken with his fangs pressed against her delicate skin, he would have said,mine mine mine mine.
His body moved on its own. The rational Kaz disappeared under a haze of instinct and raw pleasure as he pistoned his hips, moving with hard, sure strokes that seated him to the root and then pulled out the piercing and back again.
Time melted away. The interior of the SUV disappeared. He felt nothing, saw nothing, smelled nothing besides his mate and what he was doing to her. The scents of sex and desire and sweat saturated the air. Her soft exhalations and babbling, punctuated by the slap of skin on skin, filled his ears.
He was attuned to her in a way he’d never been to anyone else. Kaz felt every breath, every shudder, every twitch of her thighs and the muscles of her cunt. When she began to stiffen again, her little nails raking his back as she begged for more, he blindly thrust his hand between them to stroke her with firm, proprietary touches.
Atria came with a garbled exclamation, her cunt fluttering wildly around his cock. His growl turned into a deep, satisfied purr as he finally released her throat to watch her expression contort.
When she slumped into the seats, he raised himself up further, his weight balanced on one stiffened arm, and held her soft thigh to his chest as he began to thrust in earnest. His other hand plucked at her nipple, rolling it between thumb and forefinger with a pressure that bordered on cruelty.
His eyes lowered to where his cock, deep green and glistening, sank into her gorgeous cunt again and again. Every stroke was a little smoother than the last as her body relaxed around him. She was swollen and dripping and so perfect, he felt both deeply unworthy and like a godsdamned king every time he slid back inside.
And even though his orgasm was close enough to make his rhythm stutter, he had to know she was still with him. Kaz reluctantly released her reddened breast to grab one of her hands.
“I want you to feel us,” he rasped, placing her fingers over her clitoris, where she could just feel him pull out and fill her up again. “I want you to feel me come, princess.”
Atria’s chest heaved, but she did what he asked. The tips of her fingers tickled his shaft when he retreated, then the base when he thrust forward. When he looked up from that arresting sight, he found her watching him with her swollen lip tucked between her teeth.
He didn’t even need to ask her to touch herself again. His insatiable little mate began to swirl her fingers slowly, leisurely, as she watched him —felt him —fuck her.
Gripping her thigh hard enough to bruise, he gasped out, “Gods, you’re so perfect. Never thought it’d be this. Never.”
Sweat dripped down his spine. His lungs burned with the cloying scents of their combined lust. He felt like he was about to come undone and be remade at once. It was too much and yet not enough.Neverenough.
Looking at his mate as she brought herself to a final, drugging orgasm was a revelation. He’d never be sick of her. He’d never lose control like he feared he would. He’d never, ever want another woman like he wanted his mate.
She was infuriating and intelligent and stubborn and beautiful and so fucking sexy. More importantly, she needed him in the way he discovered he needed her: desperately, recklessly, and permanently.
Kaz held her gaze when he thrust deep for the final time. There was a sudden release of pressure and a pleasure so intense, it blotted out his vision in a haze of white.
When he came down, he found Atria sprawled beneath him, her hair a wild tangle around her head and her eyelids drooping.
His purr kicked up again. It was complete satisfaction, the vision his mate made when she was perfectly sated and still stuffed with his cock.
