“Not yet.” He settles his weight over me, mindful not to crush. The hard length of his cock presses against my thigh, ridged heat that makes me arch toward him. “I'm nowhere near finished with you.”
His mouth finds my throat, trails lower, maps the claiming marks he left during our first joining with lips and tongue and the deliberate graze of fangs. Each mark heats beneath his attention. Throat, hips, inner thighs that ache in anticipation of his return.
“I thought about this.” He kisses his way down my body. “While I hunted. While I tore through my father's people searching for you. The only thing that kept me from going feral was the thought of having you again.”
His mouth closes around my nipple. His tongue swirls against the peak while his hand finds my neglected breast, rolling, teasing, building heat that pools low in my belly.
“Drazex.” His name splinters on my lips. “Please. I need you inside me.”
“Please what?” He shifts to my other breast, and the cool air against wet skin makes me shiver. “Tell me what you need, my Chosen.”
“You. Your cock. I need you to fill me, knot me, make me yours again.”
He groans against my skin. “I’ll give you everything you want. Keep your hands above your head.”
He releases my wrists. I keep them where he placed them, because the command still echoes in my blood and I want to begood for him. Want to give him this surrender the way he gave me his on his knees in the shower.
He shifts, settling his hips between my thighs, and the weight of his cock presses against my entrance. Hot. Hard. The ridges along his shaft prominent with arousal, the knot at his base already beginning to swell. I spread my legs wider, tilt my hips up, offering myself to him without words.
“Look at you.” His voice has dropped into a rasp that scrapes over my nerve endings. “Spread open for me. Wet for me. So ready you're dripping onto the sheets.”
I am. Slick heat pools beneath me, evidence of what his mouth did to me in the shower, what his hands did on this bed, what the mere sight of him does to every nerve in my body.
“Please.” The word comes out broken. “I need you inside me. I need you to fill me.”
He notches the blunt head of his cock against my opening. The pressure makes me gasp. He’s thick, thicker than my body should be able to accommodate, and the memory of our first time floods through me. Stretch and burn and the way he waited for me to adjust before giving me more.
He pushes forward, and the first inch breaches me.
I suck in a breath. My walls grip him, pulling him deeper even as they struggle to accommodate his girth. He's so hot inside me, and the heat spreads through my belly and radiates outward.
“More.” I lift my hips, trying to take him deeper. “Give me more.”
“Patience.” He pulls back, and the ridge at his tip drags against my entrance, and pleasure shoots up my spine. “I want to savor this. Want to remember every second of being inside you.”
He pushes forward again. Another inch. The first ridge breaches me, and the sensation of it popping past my entrance makes us both groan. He's stretching me open, filling me onetorturous inch at a time, and the pleasure borders on pain in ways that make me crave more.
“Drazex.” His name spills from my lips. “Please. I can take it. I can take all of you.”
“I know you can.” He rocks his hips, working himself deeper with shallow thrusts that drive me mad. “You were made for me. Made to take my cock, my knot, everything I have to give.”
Another inch. Another ridge slipping past my entrance, dragging against nerves that blank my thoughts. I'm panting now, chest heaving, fists twisted in the sheets above my head as he fills me degree by agonizing degree.
“You're so tight.” The words grate from his throat. “So wet and hot and perfect around my cock. I could stay buried in you forever.”
He thrusts deeper, and the next ridge breaches me, and I cry out at the sensation. Four ridges now, each one a band of raised flesh that presses against my walls in ways that destroy coherent thought. Every inch of him registers against my nerve endings. Every texture. Every pulse of heat from his arousal.
“Almost there.” He pulls back and drives forward, and another inch disappears inside me. “Almost all of me. Can you take the rest, my Chosen? Can you take my knot?”
“Yes.” The word breaks into a sob. “Yes. Give me everything. I want all of you inside me.”
He snaps his hips forward, and the final inches bury themselves to the hilt.
I scream. Not from pain. From the overwhelming fullness of having him seated inside me, from the pressure of his knot nudging my entrance, from the sensation of being so thoroughly filled that I don't know where I end and he begins.
He stills. His forehead drops to mine, and his breath comes in ragged gasps against my lips. He throbs inside me. Theridges pulse against my walls. His knot swells at my entrance in anticipation of what's to come.
“Look at me.” I need to see his face when we begin.
