An inky shadow, he wrenched my silks aside, tore free of his zipper, and spread me with a sweep of his thumb. Pumping once, twice, his fist worked against my thigh before he sent that blunt tip through sticky, desperate folds with a possessive hiss.
I gasped, exhaling a ragged groan. Eyes squeezed tight, knuckles bloodless as I clenched hooked fingers and flexed my left calf. Raising up, just a little more.
He obliged me.
Reduced to wild, rutting instinct, he bullied through tight, swollen flesh and seated himself in a single, punishing thrust. Stretching my pussy wide open, only to pause. Straining against my end.
Where I was dead. Entombed in liquid Caledonian gold.
Rumbling against my ear, breath hot, he slipped his free hand around my hip. Stole beneath the folds of silk to cup my mound. Two fingers swirled at the base of my clit, drawing up a hitching sob from the bottom of my lungs.
“Please—” I gasped, hips tilting to take all he might offer without spilling a drop, if only he’d douse the flames he’d set in my blood.
But he drew back. Left me throbbing as his digits painted a slick trail between the jagged bones of my hips.
There was a moment suspended between breaths. A brief instant of confusion, before it all came crashing down.
Power.
It surged through his touch. His every point of contact, from his palm to the tip of his cock, sent power zinging through my veins.
His his command, it pooled low, behind my pelvis.
Swirling and building, it battered at the very last place I’d never thought to guard, because it was a place both coveted andwastedby the Empire of Caledonia. Rendered barren and infertile by their hasty greed.
“A-Asher, what—”
I felt him smile, then. Wicked when he withdrew just enough to stroke back inside. Filling me with a possessive thrust that sat heavy against my end, bumping something that saw my eyes roll back on a haggard gasp. Testing, searching for something outside my scope he fed me power and drove me to madness.
I sobbed.
Twisting where I was speared, I hiccuped and tried to move. Begging with the slide of slick flesh, I bucked beneath him. Sending one hand down, my fingers bumped over his, where he palmed the stretch of skin below my bellybutton but went no further. Down to the spot that throbbed and ached for his touch. Slippery with cream, I caught that neglected bundle of nerves between my first two fingers and spun a circle at the base.
Hesitant, shying away from the intensity of the sensation. Shamed by the need I couldn’t possibly resist.
My pussy fluttered. Growing tighter with each maddening, clumsy circle.
He growled.
Not quite a man.
Not quite my enemy.
But I turned to him for relief all the same.
He dumped power into my womb, fucking me in tiny, punishing thrusts that sent ripples through muscle and fat. Skin clapping against skin, his grip tight on one cheek of my ass, he grunted as he peeled me open. Making me gape as he rode me hard and ruthless, even as I began to swell with the power pooling between my hips.
Ripe.
Fit to burst.
Pleasure crashed into my brain. Contorting my spine, robbing me of breath, I came hard enough to force him still. Milking his length in pulsing waves that begged for the punishing lash of seed that couldn’t root.
He denied me.
Content to let me writhe, breath hot at my nape, his attention was instead ensnared by his work. By whatever nebulous goal a berserker might have with my barren, frigid womb—
My breath caught.
