She presses my palm between her thighs, and my vision goes black for a second. I swear I can taste her on the back of my tongue. I’m losing myself—and I don’t thrahking care.
Her fingers curl around mine. She draws two of them lower until they slip against her slick entrance.
I shudder.
“Veyr’solma. Veyr’sae. Kaemorin.” (So soft. So warm. Mine.)
She gasps when I start to move, rocking my fingers in a rhythm I can’t control anymore.
“Feel that?” I moan. “That’s mine.”
She nods.
“Say it,” I plead. “Please. Just tell me it’s mine. I need to hear it from you.”
“It’s yours,” she mumbles deliriously.
“I don’t want to serve the gods. I want to serve you. “Ves’lir kaemorin. Ves’kai velorin.”(Take what’s mine. Take what’s safe.)
My lips hover just above the seam of her virae.
“Please,” I whisper, my voice already fraying. “Let me taste you. I need?—”
She nods breathlessly, and it’s all the permission I need.
I drag her thigh up onto my shoulder and groan when her scent envelops me. I rub my face over her slickness, covering myself in her essence. Her body arches, trembling around me. I lock my arms around her thighs to hold her in place.
“Andrik, I don’t know what you’re doing... but it’s making this so much worse.”
I can’t get close enough to her. I growl in frustration, my claws flexing against her hips.I need more.
I sink lower to brace her weight. My grip tightens, and with a soft grunt, I lift her other leg and drape it over my opposite shoulder.
She yelps, suddenly perched fully on top of me, thighs wide and quivering around my head, her slick heat pressing to my mouth like she was made to sit there.
Gods, she was.
I moan ravenously into her, and the sound vibrates straight through her core. Her fingers tangle in my hair as she grinds against my tongue.
“Grip me,Saelûn. Hold yourrhûen’ka,” I purr.
Her fingers lift from my fur and wrap around my antlers.
“That’s it,” I rasp between strokes. “I’m going to erase him. With my mouth. My tongue. Until the only taste left isours.”
“Andrik,” her voice cracks.
Her hips roll frantically. I flick my tongue up and down, teasing her swollen clit until her cry pierces the canopy.
“That’s mythal’kisha,” I groan. “Let the forest know who makes you feel like this.”
The veins in my biceps swell as I start curling her weight, helping her chase her pleasure.
She looks down at me, eyes wide and dark with need. I look up at her and drag my tongue through her lips in one long, devastating stroke.
She whimpers, fingers tightening on my antlers as her head falls back. I take full advantage and lift her faster onto my tongue, then lower her again. Over and over. Using my strength to give her exactly what she needs.
“Are you sure you’re a virgin?” she pants out, thighs crushing my cheeks.
