Page 77 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

She was higher than me now, her flesh tantalizingly close to taking me, it would take only the right angle, a gentle nudge.

I broke the kiss and inhaled deeply, lifting one hand out from under her skirts to brace on the tree and ground myself. But when I dropped my face to her chest, her bare breast was right there, and I wasn’t a strong enough man to resist.

Opening my mouth on that sweet nipple again, I clawed the hand into the tree for purchase, rubbing myself against her and desperately stifling the gasps and groans I wanted to release into the night.

‘Bren… fuck.’

‘Don’t stop.’

Coming off her nipple with a frantic suck that made her twitch, I lifted my head to find her staring down at me with glazed, hooded eyes, her jaw slack and fingers clawing into my hair.

My mate stared at me with nothing short of lust.

But would she still feel that way when this was done? When the fear had passed and—

‘Donavyn, stop questioning. I can feel it. There’s no question in my mind—’

‘Are you certain?’

“Yes!” she gasped aloud—and I lurched for her mouth to silence her, diving into her with my tongue as I gave in to the need, positioned her, urging her to hook her ankles behind my back, then let her slide down my body until I took her to the hilt in one thrust.

She sucked in through her nose and her head fell back, but I followed her, snarling silently against the gasp of relief of having her.

On my first retreat, she bit her lip and let her head tip forward, her eyes opening—bright and needy—until I thrust into her again and her jaw dropped, no breath. Again, and a tiny choke broke in her throat. Again, and she sucked in—and I took her mouth again, swallowing her stifled whimper.

She struggled then, pulling me close one moment, bracing her hands on my shoulders the next. I hadn’t taken her like this before, and it was clear she sought something, pulsing around me, teeth on her lip, rocking to meet me, heels digging into my ass, hips rising the next moment, her nails in my back as she fought for purchase.

With me pinning her to the tree, and her legs curled around me, only her hands were free. I held her by the thighs and showed her every way I loved her, taking her slowly, but decisively, kissing her when she threatened to make sound, while her need intensified.

Bren gripped my shoulders, clawed down my back, fisted my hair—then back to my shoulders. She called my name in the bond, and tiny sounds in her throat sent a crackling thrill through me from where she hooked a hand behind my neck, down to the pooling heat behind my navel.

Unable to resist, I cupped one hand under her knee to keep her high, then picked up the pace, pulling off the tree only far enough to give her hips room to move.

Bren’s mouth dropped open and she arched back, bending one arm back to brace against the tree and meeting me thrust for thrust.

I was thrilled, and stunned, and desperate. Desperate to have her, to protect her, to keep her away from all these pricks that, if they caught even a glimpse of her now—abandoned, temples sheened in sweat, one breast bobbing with our movement—would fight to have her.

Watching her walk away from me an hour ago, even with her arms hooked with other women, the simple knowledge that other men would look for her, hope for her, felt like having one of my ribs pried loose. I needed her back, nestled safely next to my heart.

I couldn’t stop touching her, taking her, swallowing the growl of her name.

But soon the world fell away and I was aware of nothing but her breath thundering past my ear, her body rippling against mine, her nails biting into my shoulder.

As we both climbed towards that impossible peak, I prayed God gave us the control for silence, and leaned into her, wallowing in her—the soft curves of her embracing me, the sweet, desperate gasps that escaped her lips, and the silence when her breath caught.

My pulse pounded in my ears.

Then I looked down to see her breast pressed hard against my chest, watching that nipple roll with the movement of our bodies, and I almost came.

“Shit, Bren!” I hissed.

She tightened on me, but I knew she wasn’t there yet. And this position gave me no room to help her. With a desperate warning to her in the bond to, ‘hold on!’ I pulled her away from the tree and pulled out of her.

She shuddered and whimpered, but I kissed her protests away, then turned her, letting the front of her skirts drop and lifting the back, scrambling to gather it over her back as I issued frantic instructions in the bond.

‘Brace on the tree. Bend forward. Widen your stance.’

Nudging her knees apart and bracing to retain control, I stroked her, found her core and took her, hurriedly clamping a hand over her mouth when she cried out, then I bit down on her shoulder to keep my own groans silent against her skin.