"Mine…" I whispered hoarsely, my fangs aching with urgency. "Mine."
A slow, predatory smile spread across Malek’s lips. He wrapped one large hand around himself, squeezing and biting his lip like even his touch was too much to take.
"Do you like what you see, krash’uk?"
"I want you," I replied, my hands scratching his abs. "Now."
Malek let out a growl that vibrated against the walls of the hut and, in one fluid motion, dove between my legs. He ignored my pleas for him to fuck me immediately, preferring to torture me with his mouth.
His iron grip tightened around my thighs, spreading them wide so he could devour me. The first touch of his tongue against my center shattered what little restraint I had left. Malek used his lips and tongue like a musician with a fine instrument, licking and sucking my sensitive clit.
"Malek!" I cried, my head falling back, fingers burying themselves in his thick hair.
He didn’t slow. The sound of his mouth on me was the only thing I could hear; his touch was consuming me. He seemed to know every single place that made me shudder. The pressure mounted in my lower belly, a heat that climbed up my legs and coiled in my clitoris like a storm ready to break. My back arched violently when the first spasm hit me. Malek intensified the suction, his fangs lightly grazing my skin.
I shattered. My body convulsed beneath him as the release tore through me, wave after wave of blinding pleasure. My fingers tightened in his hair as he continued, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until my limbs trembled and my breath came in broken gasps.
Still shaking, I felt him rise above me. Malek stared at me with a dark triumph in his eyes, his face wet with the evidence of my pleasure.
"That was only the beginning, Fiona," he murmured, his voice rough with promise. "Now I’m going to give you what you asked for."
His hands closed around my hips, fingers pressing firmly into my skin as he positioned himself between my legs.
"Look at me, Fiona," he commanded, and like an obedient servant, I did as he ordered.
Slowly, he began to push inside me. I felt every ridge, every movement, the sensation stretching me in ways that stole the breath from my lungs. The golden pearls brushed along my inner walls, sending sparks of sensation through my body.
"By the Goddess..." I moaned, digging my claws into his massive arms as I tried to accommodate him.
He stilled, chest rising and falling heavily as he fought for control. He was holding himself back—restraining the instinct to take what he clearly wanted. Instead, he gave me time to let my body adapt to his size.
"Breathe, Fiona," he murmured. "Feel what I do to you. How your body recognizes mine."
I forced air into my lungs, gripping his arms as sensation slowly shifted from sharp pressure into overwhelming fullness. Then, with a deep, steady thrust, he seated himself completely inside me.
When he finally began to move, my mind went blank, and all I could feel were the slow, deep thrusts. Our breaths mingled with low groans and rough gasps, filling the cabin with sound.
Malek was no longer just a warrior or my "enemy". He was a force of nature destroying me. With every thrust of his hips, the knot at his base pressed against my entrance, throbbing in sync with my own heart. When he brushed his fingers against my clitoris, circling it while he fucked me, I felt the wave of ecstasy seize me. I moaned loudly enough for everyone to hear, not that I cared. Let them hear and know that Malek ‘o Melk’or belongs to me.
His growl vibrated inside my very bones, a confirmation that he had reached the limit of his control. I felt the exact moment the knot at the base of his cock began to pulse with a new intensity. My pussy reacted in a way that defied the logic of my anatomy. I opened myself to him, every muscle yielding and expanding as if my body had been molded solely for this.
It was a pleasure unlike anything I had ever known. My mind went blank, blood roaring in my ears. I lunged for him, sinking my fangs hard into the base of his broad neck, marking him.
Malek let out a muffled roar. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he tilted his head and sank his own fangs into my neck, right where my pulse hammered against my skin. A bolt of electricity surged down my spine, a heat that was no longer merely physical, but a spiritual invasion. Through that bite, our essences finally fused, recognizing one another.
My vision blurred, and I clung to his broad shoulders, tasting the warmth of his blood on my tongue. It should have repulsed me, yet it didn’t. It was the taste of life that pulsed through him, drawing me in instead of pushing me away. The knot inside me continued to throb, growing and locking inside me, making me let out a long, drawn-out moan against his shoulder.
"Knum..." Malek’s whisper vibrated against my open wound, his voice reverent.
Slowly, he eased the pressure of his bite, though he didn’t pull away completely. Instead, he began to lick the wound he had opened, the gesture unexpectedly gentle.
"Are you alright?" he asked, concern threading through his voice.
"Yes," I whispered, still shaking, overwhelmed by the intensity of what we had just done. "I feel… complete."
He kissed my forehead, the action a stark contrast to the image of the implacable warrior he was to the rest of the world. In that hut, Malek was mine.
Gradually, the knot inside me softened, releasing its hold. A faint ache followed as he withdrew, leaving behind an emptiness that felt strangely cold after so much heat.
