“My mate,” she breathed, thrusting her hips back as much as she could. “I need you.”
“I know. Gods, I know.” He gathered her hair until his fist pressed against the base of her skull. Using it like a rope, he pulled her head back until her spine was arched at a steep angle and her throat bared.
His other hand slid under her to play with her cunt, fluttering and pinching and rubbing, as he began slow, almost painfully deep strokes.
Every time he bottomed out, she felt like the head of his cock was lodged behind her navel, and every time he pulled back, the piercing rubbed beautifully, ruthlessly, against her g-spot. All the while, his fingers moved in an unhurried dance, occasionally dipping to skim where they were joined.
Atria let out a guttural animal sound as the pressure built and built. It felt like he was trying to rattle her bones apart with each thrust, like he was making apoint,and she had never experienced anything like it. It wasn’t just sex. It was something raw and wild and a little painful.
It wasexquisite.
She found herself reaching back to dig her nails into the thick muscle of his thighs. The harder she dug in, the louder he purred and the faster his fingers moved.
Atria was half a second away from begging before she remembered how he corrected her every time she’d done it in the past.“You never need to beg me for anything,”he’d told her in that low, low purr.“Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”
Atria dug her nails deep into his flexing thighs and exclaimed, “I… want tocome!”
“Good girl,” he praised, immediately picking up his pace. “My princess wants to come again? Then she gets to come again. However many times she wants.”
His thrusts shallowed. Instead of lodging himself deep again and again, he kept just the right depth so as to constantly rub his piercing against her inner wall with quick, forceful strokes.
This time, the orgasm was so strong, so intense, that she felt all her muscles lock up around him. Her mouth opened in a high, almost soundless scream as he continued to work her, faster and faster, at that same delicious angle.
It wasn’t until she went limp again, her whole body shaking in the aftermath, that Kaz let go of her hair to palm her hips. He lifted her up just enough to change the angle and began to pull her backward every time he moved forward, intensifying the friction until it bordered on pain.
More animal sounds left her throat, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t human anymore. She was drunk on him. His frenzy fed her own. Her lust fueled his. They were mindless, extraordinary. Their bodies were vessels for pleasure and connection, a perfect unit whose sole purpose was to keep itself in a state of bliss.
She loved the edge of discomfort, the way he used her and indulged her at the same time. She loved his deep, deep purr and the way his hands began to shake as his rhythm turned ragged and uneven.
And when he pulled out to come all over the small of her back and ass, she loved that too.
Everything was a blissful blur: the way he used both hands to smear his release into her skin, how he flipped her over to bury his head between her thighs again, the time between her next orgasm and when he dragged her into his lap to impale her once more…
It was an endless ocean she drifted in — him, but also a glut of sensation, adoration, scent. It was everything she’d ever wanted and more than she could have possibly hoped for.
Time passed, but they didn’t notice it. One orgasm bled into the next. Sleep was caught in snatches. More often than not she woke up to Kaz’s cock hardening inside of her, or his fingers sliding through the mess between her thighs.
She heard nothing but his purring, his praise, and at least for a while, the world consisted of only the two of them, and it was… perfect.
ChapterThirty-Six
A day later,they were forced to leave the nest not because of the outside world, but because they both needed to eat.
While she blearily rustled up snacks from the kitchen, Kaz assembled a much smaller version of their nest in front of the fireplace in the family room. When Atria returned with several bags of chips, cheese, toast with orange jam, and a filet of smoked salmon for her mate, she found him naked as the day he was born and lounging in front of a roaring fire.
They were both ragged and a little disgusting, covered in bodily fluids as they were, but he didn’t seem to care and neither did she. His eyes were half-lidded as he watched her shuffle in with her haul. The firelight bounced off of his skin in a mesmerizing way, scattering the floor with jewel green, turquoise, and magenta light — that famed elvish iridescence at work.
Of course, he was also simply beautiful. Wherever the firelight touched, she saw something she loved. The slopes of his muscle — nothing purely cosmetic, butstrong,like a man built to fight rather than to lift weights — or the fascinating, simple pattern of his tattoos.
“I love looking at you,” she admitted as she knelt to place the food on the floor before the fire. Kaz took the cold beers from where she’d held them under her bicep and set them a little farther away. That done, he hooked his arms around her middle and dragged her back against his naked chest.
Burying his face in her tangled hair, he told her, “I love it when you look at me. Almost as much as I love how you move, how you smell, the way you talk.”
“The way I talk?”
“Mm. Feisty but soft. Smart but gentle. Sassy and mine.” He scraped his fangs against her bare shoulder before he pressed a kiss to the spot, soothing the sting. “I like that you give me shit.”
Atria turned her head to give him a doubtful look. “I thought you wanted me to be good?”
