“You’re mine, Narai.”
I lean down, nipping the soft skin just above her collarbone with my fangs. Not enough to break. Just enough to leave the faintest mark, a promise. She shudders beneath me, a full-body tremor that I feel everywhere.
I rip the wrap the rest of the way off. Toss it aside. Her body is laid bare to me. Softer than I imagined. More vulnerable. The firelight paints her in shades of gold and shadow, highlighting the soft curves of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips. She is beautiful in a way that hurts, a reminder of everything fragile in this harsh world.
And I am about to ruin her for anyone else.
“You feel that?” I growl, pressing my hips against hers. The barrier of my trousers is maddening. “That’s what you do to me. That’s what I’m going to give you.”
She doesn’t answer. Just stares up at me, her dark eyes wide, her breath coming in short, sharp pants. Her hands are fisted in the furs beside her head.
I reach down, work the ties of my own trousers, and free myself. The cool air is a shock against the fevered heat of my skin. I am heavy and hard, more than ready. The sight of her, spread out beneath me, the scent of her fear and her need, is almost enough to undo me right there.
I take myself in one hand, guiding the thick head to her entrance. She is slick. Wet. More than ready for me, even with the fear coiling in her scent.
I press forward.
Just an inch.
Her body resists. Tight. So incredibly tight.
“Relax, Keandra,” I command, my voice a low rumble. “Let me in.”
She tries. I feel the minute shift in her muscles, the way she forces herself to soften around me. I reward her by pushing in another inch. A soft cry escapes her lips. A mix of pain and pleasure.
I grit my teeth, fighting the instinct to drive myself home. To take. To claim. To rut. I want to feel her body give around me. Wants to feel her surrender.
Slowly.
Slowly is an agony.
But I want her to feel every single inch as I fill her. She gasps out, “Wait.” I growl and take her mouth in a brutal kiss, my fangs scraping against her lips as my hands forcefully hold her legs spread wide. She tries to struggle weakly, but I pin her down effortlessly.
“You are mine, Narai. Mine to breed,” I snarl against her lips. I press in deeper, her tight heat fighting to accommodate my alien size. “You were made for this. Made to take me. To carry my young.” I punctuate each word with a forceful, brutal thrust, stretching her impossibly wide. My demanding kiss chokes off her cries, her body pinned helplessly beneath my much larger, stronger form. My instincts scream at me to claim her, to breed her.
She gasps as I finally seat myself to the hilt. I am buried inside her, deep as I can go. The feel of her, hot and tight and slick around me, is a kind of heaven I have never known before her. I stay there for a moment, letting her adjust and letting her feel the weight of me. The sheer impossibility of our connection.
“You’re taking it, Keandra,” I breathe against her ear. “You’re taking all of me.”
A tear leaks from the corner of her eye. I lick it away. The taste is salt and surrender.
Then I begin to move.
Slowly at first. Long, deep strokes that pull almost all the way out before pushing back in, filling her each time. Each thrust is a claim. A brand. A reminder of who she belongs to.
“You’re going to take my cock, Sahri.” I growl. “I can smell you want it.” Each word is a thrust. My hips slam against hers, forcing me deeper. I watch her face, the way her brows furrow in a mix of pain and overwhelming pleasure, her lips parted on silent cries. I want to own every expression. Every shudder.
I move faster. The rhythm of the camp outside fades away. The only sounds are the crackle of the fire, the harsh panting of our breath, and the slick slap of our bodies meeting.
My claws extend, pricking her skin where I grip her hips. Not enough to break the skin. Just enough to leave small, possessive marks. I want to see them tomorrow. Want her to feel them and remember this. Remember me.
I lean down, nipping at her throat with my fangs. “Mine,” I snarl against her skin. “All mine.”
Her hands come up to grip my shoulders. Holding on. Her nails dig into my skin, a sweet, sharp pain that only heightens my pleasure.
“That’s it, Narai,” I growl. “Take it. Take what I give you.”
She is close. I can feel it in the way her body tightens around me, in the desperate, breathless sounds she’s making. The scent of her arousal is thick in the air, a heady perfume that fuels the fire in my blood.
