Desperate. For him.
He slid his fingers over the soft curve of her belly and between her thighs, letting his hand explore the feel of the glide of his cock into her tight hole, as he took her slow and deep.
Then, Alaric moved his slick fingers up to the pearl of her pleasure, playing her body in time with his thrusts as Hanna moaned and rolled her hips for more.
Fuck,he needed to slow down, he was on the brink of spending and he wanted Hanna with him, wanted her cunny strangling his cock as her crisis took her.
Hanna was whimpering now, her neck arched, body tight like a bow as her hips titled to take him deeper, head thrashing side to side with building tension.
It was just as he had imagined for many nights now, all those night spent spooned against her with her sleeping trustingly in his arms.
Alaric threaded an arm under her side and gathered Hanna tight against his chest, playing with her breasts as his hips flexed and he fucked her deep, once twice, hard and and anamalistic, while he pulled her thighs wide and rubbed her ruthlessly towards her peak.
“You are so fucking perfect,” Alaric groaned into her ear, kissing her throat as he sunk into her heat over and over while she moaned and shuddered, wetness spilling around his fingers as she coated his cock with her pleasure and her channel pulsed and clenched around him.
The early morning light filtering in through the shutters allowed Alaric to watch her face as Hanna came for him, eyelashes fluttering against her cheek and her swollen red lips open with a cry, each sound spilling from her lips tightening hisballs as his seed threatened to spurt into her hot depths and his fingers softened their torture against her sensitive skin.
“I want my babe in your belly,” he growled into her neck, his hips thrusting hard and fast now, mind and body united in one goal, one anamalistic need
Fuck his woman, fuck her deep and hard, fill her, breed her.
With a low cry, Alaric spilled his seed, thick, creamy pulses of his dark pleasure filling Hanna in time with the frantic beat of his heart.
Alaric groaned and kissed her hair as she panted in his arms, her body already relaxing into exhausted slumber as he gently rocked his hips, feeling every last shiver of sensation as his cock twitched inside of her.
His woman, in all ways now.
HANNA
Hanna woke to the sound of steel on stone.
The room was bright with morning sun and mid-stretch, she startled, realising she had slept late and had missed making breakfast or tending to James.
She swung her feet to the floor and padded to the window as she pulled on her robe, glancing outside to look for the source of the noise that had woken her.
It came again, but this time, accompanied by other sounds. The wet thunk of a blade, the scrape of a knife.
Hanna took herself downstairs to the kitchen, rushing to say good morning to James and offering Maria a buss on the cheek as the woman rolled out pastry with a practised hand.
“What is going on?” Hanna mused aloud as she peered out the kitchen door.
Maria came up behind her, lifting her chin in the direction of the woodshed as she brushed pastry crumbs from hr fingers. “Alaric brought home a deer yesterday evening. He is readying it for the cold store.”
Yesterday.
Heat flooded her cheeks at the memory of Alaric’s hands on her body, his mouth everywhere, the way he'd made her sob his name in the darkness.
Mine,he'd growled against her skin.All mine. Every inch of you belongs to me.
And she'd surrendered to it, surrendered to him completely.
Hanna cleared her throat and walked towards the shed, not wanting Maria to see her cheeks blushing hot.
Closer now, she watched as Alaric worked on the deer carcass, his movements precise and economical. He'd strung it up in the woodshed, and was methodically separating hide from meat with expert efficiency.
There was something almost graceful about the movement of his lean, strong form. The flex of muscle in his forearms where his shirt sleeves where rolled up, the scowling concentration on his face, the absolute confidence in his handling of the blade.
This was a man who knew his craft, who'd spent a lifetime honing these skills.
