And every thought she had ever had flew out of her head.
All she could think about was the sensations, the feelings, the sweet blooming beginnings of her orgasm, as inexorable as the tide. How much she wanted to tell him she was close, but couldn’t quite make the words come. They stuck in her throat, too dirty to speak. Too much, too raw, too like holding back was still the best idea.
But of course he knew, he knew.
“Don’t hide it from me. Tell me how good it feels,” he said, sosoft and full of understanding and reassurance that it would have been enough on its own. Then she felt his hand stroke over her back, and that was it.
She didn’t know how to keep it inside anymore.
“So good I’m going to cream all over your cock,” she burst out.
And it was worth it, just for the groan she got in response.
“So you like it when I do you like this.”
“Yes yes yes, oh god, yes please please.”
“And how about now? Hotter or colder?”
Hotter, she thought,too hot. I’m burning alive and don’t want to stop.
Before she could say it, he got hold of both hips with those big hands. And he hauled her back, onto his cock. Then again, and again, hard and fast and right up against that sweet spot inside her. The one she couldn’t reach with her fingers, and hardly could with toys, and definitely never had with any other men she’d fucked.
But he reached effortlessly—and she knew it wasn’t because of the way he was built. It was because of that echo, that connection. It had to be, because he shuddered with her every time he got it right. He said her name every time she wanted to say his. And when he reached a hand between their bodies and stroked one wicked finger over her clit, it wasn’t just her that lost control.
She felt him buck and grunt and dig his fingers into her hip, the moment he made contact.
Though it was her who got there first. The pleasure just bloomed upward from every point of contact, thick and intense enough that she said his name through gritted teeth. She tried to get away from it.
And she knew she’d made a mess of him. She felt herself spilling all over his cock, felt it coating her thighs and soaking the sheets. Heard him gasping over it, in a way that would have embarrassed her before. But it couldn’t here, because she knew what that gasp meant. She knew what everything meant with him now. He had removed all doubt, and replaced it with something better, something sweeter.
She didn’t even need him to say.
Though he did, anyway.
“Thank god you brought that potion that cuts the cord between getting turned on and becoming a beast. Because if you hadn’t, I’d be mauling you and growling that you’re mine, right around now,” he panted out between heavy, ragged breaths. Between kisses, god the way he dropped kisses on the nape of her neck.
She couldn’t be normal about it.
“I wouldn’t care if you did,” she replied without even thinking twice.
And got his voice in her ear, breathless, barely human.
“You are, you are, you’re all mine,” he growled as she felt the first wave of his orgasm running through her. “Say you are. Say you’re mine. Say you always will be.”
And though his words felt like too much, she didn’t hesitate.
“I will, I am, I’m all yours,” she gasped.
Then waited for a sense of regret that simply never came.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The first thing she did when she woke was reach for him. Because yeah, sure, she could tell herself to be careful. She could stop and consider that nothing had been said about what this meant—beyond wanting to fuck the living daylights out of each other, of course. But her semiconscious self didn’t really care. It wanted to cuddle up to him. And she didn’t really have the wherewithal or even the need to fight it.
She just did it. She was even disappointed, when she found nothing but an empty bed. And an empty, cold bed at that. Like he’d been gone for a long time, even though she was pretty sure it wasn’t late in the morning. Gray light filtered through the windows. Six-thirty sort of light.
So she sat up and listened. She tuned herself in to whatever sounds he should have been making. The splash of a shower, the opening of a fridge downstairs. Even though she had no idea if he had a shower, or a fridge. She only discovered that he had one of them when she went to pee in something other than a sex stupor, and actually noticed the shower curtain around the bathtub.
