His fingers join in, he retracts his claw, and one thick digit presses inside me. He hooks it, finding that place that makes me see stars behind my eyelids. A second finger joins the first, stretching me, preparing me.
I’m close. So close. The pressure builds, coiling tight in my belly.
“Not yet,” he rasps, sensing my impending release.
He pulls back, leaving me trembling on the edge. I whimper at the loss.
He moves over me again, covering my body with his. His weight is a welcome pressure, a tangible proof of his presence. His erection, hot and impossibly hard, presses against my thigh.
The size of him sends a thrill of fear mixed with stark desire through me.
“Remember,” I say, my voice shaky. “Gentle.”
A faint smile touches his lips. “Never gentle, veli. Always yours.”
He reaches between us, guiding himself to my entrance. He pushes in just the tip, testing me.
I gasp. It’s a stretch. A burn.
“Breathe,” he commands softly.
I do, but it doesn’t help much. He is too big. The sheer alien reality of him, trying to fit inside my human body, is overwhelming.
“Look at me.”
My eyes snap to his.
“I have you,” he says, his voice a low growl. “You are mine.”
He pushes in further.
Slowly.
Inch by agonizing inch.
My body resists, then yields. The burn intensifies, then shifts into something else. A deep, aching fullness that consumes me.
I cry out, a sound of pain and pleasure tangled together.
Kaiven stills, letting me adjust. “Almost there, Sahri. Almost all of me.”
He kisses me, a slow, drugging kiss that distracts from the intensity of our joining. His tongue mimics the rhythm he wants from my body.
When he’s finally seated to the hilt, he stops.
Fully sheathed. Deep. Complete.
We are both breathing hard, our chests rising and falling in tandem.
“You feel that?” he asks, his voice vibrating through my chest. “That’s where we belong. Joined. Mine.”
All I can do is nod, my hands clutching at his back, my nails digging into his skin.
He starts to move.
Slowly at first, a slow drag that pulls a gasp from my lips. Then back in, just as slow.
He sets a rhythm that is both possessive and reverent.
