His answering grin was feral. He guided my hips, showing me how to lift and lower myself, how to rock forward and back. The ridges on his cock dragged against my inner walls with every movement, creating friction that made coherent thought impossible.
“That’s it. Ride me, my wee warrior. Take what ye need.”
I found my rhythm, rising until only the head of his cock remained inside me, then sinking back down, impaling myself on his length. Each time I lowered myself, each ridge stretched me again, the sensation building and building.
Vrogul wasn’t passive beneath me. He planted his heels on the ground, using the leverage to thrust up into me as I came down. The force—thesounds—of our bodies meeting drove him deeper, made the pleasure more intense. His hands guided my hips, controlling the pace when I faltered, urging me faster when I found my stride.
“Ye feel so fooking good,” he groaned, his eyes locked on where our bodies joined.
“Watching ye take my cock, watching ye claim yer pleasure, ‘tis addicting, Mate. Ye’re mine, Rowena. Mine.”
Sweat beaded on my skin despite the cool wind. My long braid swung with each movement, the end of it brushing against his stomach. The muscles in my thighs burned with the effort, but I couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. The pleasure was building again, higher and higher.
Vrogul’s thrusts became harder, more urgent. He pulled me down as he drove up, the impact sending shockwaves through my body. I could feel every inch of him, every ridge, every throb of his cock inside me.
“So close,” I panted, my nails scoring lines down his chest. “Vrogul, I’m so close.”
One of his hands left my hip, sliding between our bodies. His thumb found my clitoris, swollen and sensitive, and pressed down with exactly the right amount of pressure.
I came undone.
My orgasm tore through me, more powerful than aught I’d ever experienced. I screamed his name, the sound carried away by the wind as my body convulsed atop him. My cunny clenched around his cock, milking him, demanding his release.
Vrogul threw his head back, his neck corded with strain, and bellowed his own release. I felt the hot rush of his seed filling me, felt his cock pulse and throb inside me as he emptied himself. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise, holding me down on him as he came.
Claimingme.
We stayed locked together, both of us trembling, gasping for breath as his seed leaked from our joined bodies.
The world slowly came back into focus—the sound of the waves below, the wind whistling through the rocks, the cry of seabirds overhead.
I collapsed forward onto his chest and his arms immediately wrapped around me, holding me close.
“Mate,” he murmured into my hair. “My Mate. My Rowena.”
And lying there in his arms, claimed and sated, I knew he was right.
I was his.
He was mine.
And I wasn’t going to let him go.
