“If you don’t hurry up, this is going to be over quickly,” I warn him, curling my fingers in the sheets.
“Patience. I’ll give you what you need. All you need to do is lie there and take it, Lo.”
My whimper at those sexy words becomes a full-throated moan as the big blunt head of his cock stretches me open.
“Gods, you feel so good.” Gunnar growls the words, panting hard as he slides in deeper, deeper.
I’m beyond words, moaning like a whore and tearing at the blankets. He’s so bloody big, filling me absolutely everywhere. The pressure, the way he twitches and throbs inside me, is going to make me lose my mind.
Then he starts to move, grabbing my hips and rocking me back to meet every thrust. I moan something unintelligible and let him use me just the way he wants. “So tight, Lo. You were made for this. Wish you could see how well you’re taking me. So perfect.”
Something like a sob escapes me. Nothing has ever felt this good. It’s everything I need. Gunnar’s the one who is perfect. No one has ever fucked me like this. He uses my body but ensures that I love every second of it. The connection we have, one of mutual shared pleasure, is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
He lifts my hips, deepening his thrusts. With every slap of his hips, he brushes that spot inside me until I’m gasping and overstimulated. Reaching underneath me, I grab my drenched cock and start to stroke.
“That’s it, Lo. Make yourself come for me,” Gunnar growls, but it sounds like a plea.
My hand flies up and down my cock, spattering copious amounts of precum all over the pillows. “Gunnar, fuck, so close!”
Suddenly, he pulls out. I squawk as he flips me onto my back. His eyes are almost black with lust, face flushed and hair wild. “Need to see you,” he growls, and then he’s inside me, fucking me deep and hard like he never stopped.
Gunnar’s pants become low growls, vibrating in his chest. “Sorry.” He grunts, turning his face away, but not before I glimpse his fangs.
I turn his face back toward me. “Don’t hide. I want to see you.” It’s so bloody hot the way he’s losing control like this.
“Don’t want to scare you.”
I laugh, tugging on his hair to bring his face to the crook of my neck. “Fear is the very last thing I’m feeling,” I assure him, punctuating my words with rolls of my hips. He growls deep in his chest. Fabric rips, and I look down and see his claws have torn holes in the linen.
“I could never be afraid of you,” I tell him, kissing his lips, darting my tongue out to prod the tip of his fang. “I trust you. I—fuck—I love you, Gunnar. I want you. All of you. Now. Bite me. Claim me. Make me yours. Please.”
“Fuck,Arlo,” Gunnar says, his voice barely more than a growl. His cock pulses inside me as he comes. Then his teeth find the crook of my neck, breaking the skin. There’s no pain, just earth-shattering pleasure coursing from him to me through the bond that snaps into place between us.
Goddess, I can feel everything. His pleasure. The fierce, carnal desire of his wolf. I clutch the back of his neck, fingers curling into his hair. My orgasm slams into me, all-consuming, and my climax sets off a chain reaction in Gunnar. He comes again, snarling my name, and mind-numbing bliss whites out my vision.
We’re an absolute mess, covered in cum and sweat, gasping and shivering in each other’s arms until finally, the echoes of our orgasms fade. “Oh my goddess,” I moan into his shoulder.
“Are you okay?” he asks, sounding utterly wrecked.
“I think you killed me,” I reply, collapsing back into the pillows.
He chuckles, sounding very satisfied with himself. “I hope it was worth the wait.”
The hint of vulnerability in his voice has me cracking open my eyes. Sure enough, there’s a touch of remorse in his silver eyes that I won’t stand for.
I reach up to kiss his lips, giving his neck a tug to bring him closer so I can pepper kisses over his forehead. “You were,” I tell him, chest tightening with just how much I mean it. I would have waited years for him.
Gunnar drops his forehead to mine, brushing his thumb over my cheek. “My berserker… he’s gone quiet.” His voice thickens, and he clears his throat. “All these years, he’s been this… presence in the back of my head. Always angry. Always so full of despair and now, he’s just… gone.”
I wipe away the tear gathering at the corner of his eye. “Yeah? How does it feel?”
Gunnar shrugs, sniffling. “Good. But also… I don’t know. It’s hard to trust that he’s finally at peace.”
“He is. I promise you, he is.”
“It’s almost… this empty feeling.” He rubs his chest. “I hid behind all that anger and despair for so long. And now—” His voice breaks, his throat working hard as he swallows. “What do I do without it?”
“You let yourself live. But letting go of all that rage and guilt doesn’t mean letting go of Leif and Bjorn. You know that, right?”
