My core clenched around his finger, my addled mind demandingAgain, again, again!
He pulled his fingers from me, leaving me empty and oversensitive. He tried to bring them to his mouth again, determined to taste—but patience was not a virtue of mine, and I needed him now.
My fingers tangled in his hair, and before he had a chance to protest, I was guiding him up, my hand hooking into the elastic of his sweatpants, demanding they give way.
A second later, the crown of his cock nudged at my entrance, my body still taut with need, oversensitive and aching.
“Caitlyn, if you want to go sl—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I said, surprising even myself with the firmness in my voice.
Blaise pressed the tip of his cock inside me, his eyes snapping shut as his bottom lip caught between his teeth and he went utterly still. I half expected another“Gods”to fall from his lips—it was damn close to spilling from mine. My core clenched in response, the stretch of him slow and teasing, heat licking up my spine as he held there, just enough to make me tremble.
When he finally opened his eyes, his golden gaze found mine, soft and awestruck with something that looked dangerouslyclose to reverence. Then, in a wickedly slow thrust, he pushed forward until he was fully seated inside me.
“Blaise... ” I bit out, unsure whether it was a plea for him to still so I could adjust to the glorious fullness of him, or a command for him to start moving.
Blaise’s eyes fluttered closed, his head tipping back, the scar at his neck pulling taut as he murmured, “Gods... she feelsincredible—”
My mind only half registered how strange it was, the way he’d referred to me in the third person. But Blaise seemed to register it all at once. His eyes snapped open, his gaze going unfocused, staring somewhere just past me.
Something tightened in his expression. His features drew inward, a flush creeping up his face as he leaned down, bracing himself on his elbows before kissing me—his mouth firm and almost too controlled.
Snap.
Snap.
Snap.
That damn rubber band again.
I barely had time to dwell on it before he buried his face in the crook of my neck. His hips began to thrust, but the rhythm faltered, leaving me a half beat out of sync with him.
When I pressed my fingers gently against his ass, trying to guide him, his movements stayed out of step with mine. It felt like we were reaching for the same moment from opposite directions and with blindfolds on.
His features twisted with frustration, brows drawn tight, eyes squeezed shut as he tried and failed to settle into me.
Just as I was about to tell him it was okay, that we could try again later, he slid out of me. He rolled onto the mattress beside me, the poles of the tent shuddering with the abrupt movement, fabric quivering as if it might collapse entirely.
A frustrated growl tore from him as he dragged a hand down his face before holding it out in front of him and snapping the rubber band hard against his wrist.
I really needed to ask what the band was about—but when his eyes met mine, guilt and embarrassment chasing across his expression, my thoughts were already racing ahead. The shape of a plant I couldn’t quite identify took root in my mind’s eye, its properties unfolding alongside the sudden understanding of how it would compensate for what my Wailing Whirls were missing.
The mental reset might not have been as magical as I’d hoped, but it had clearly worked.
Chapter 16. Blaise
Well, that couldn’t have gone any worse.
I’d presumed that, after six months without penetrative sex, the biggest issue I’d face when first making love to my mate would be premature ejaculation.
Butno. Ofcourseit had to be the phantom image of Ambrose.
Because the moment I let myself give in to desire, I’d pictured him there with us.
I should have waited. No matter how desperately my body ached for Caitlyn, I shouldn’t have allowed myself to give in before I was ready. I should have told her about Ambrose—about why I needed time to forget him.
And more than anything, I should be ashamed of myself.
