Page 39 of Bitten By the Basilisk

“Fuck. Fuck!” he growled the second he understood her meaning. “I’m about to come, kitten. I need you to come with me.”

“S-same,” she gritted.

The moan he then made was more of a strangled roar as immense pleasure warred with the painful need for release. He didn’t know how he wasn’t yet pumping his load into her. Their desperate cries echoed all around him, as did the sucking clap of their sexes. Bathwater sloshed around his thighs.

Instinct had him pressing the tip of his thumb into her asshole, penetrating her up to his first knuckle. The invasion made her cry out, louder than ever. Then her entire body seized up. She pulled herself tight to the rim, arched her back.

He locked his attention onto her face, watched in primal triumph as her silent grimace softened into bliss. Her pussy throbbed, and her slick splashed his groin. His vision turned gray as he followed her into ecstasy, the start marked by her first sob of pleasure, his balls drawing up tight. Searing heat erupted from his cock as a shout of release tore from his throat.

Of its own accord, his body curled over her, pressing his chest to her back, forcing her flatter, and he slid his thumb out of her anus to brace his arm on the rim next to her, his other hand still clamping her waist.

He slowed his thrusts but did not stop, grunting every time he shoved back in and every time he ground his hips against her, even though the friction made each throb of release after the first hurt a little.

“Good job, kitten,” he groaned by her ear, still out of breath. “Such a good job coming with me. Fuck, I could spend the entire night getting you off.”

He clenched his jaw through another ragged moan as he slowly pumped his hips against her, reveling in her pleasured whimpers and the mess they’d made of each other.

“Holy shit,” she panted. “I came so hard when you…”

He chuckled. “I felt it.” Was still feeling it—faint ripples along his shaft every time the head of his cock dug into the back wall of her pussy.

Her above-average height made it easy for him to kiss his way down the side of her neck. He mouthed the warm skin where her shoulder began, longing to prick her there with his fangs. The only place better would be the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, close to her mound.

Even after his thrusts ceased, he remained in place for a moment, reluctant to signal an end to their latest interlude, as it would have to be their last before they collapsed in his bed. He liked caging her with his body, that instinctual part of him both reveling in a successful claiming while also waiting to sense the exact moment he could begin again.

“Just so you know, I’m not assuming we’ll be having sex after our next date,” he assured her. “But you can expect me to spend the entire evening seducing you.”

She gave him a genuine, if tired, laugh. “I’ll probably fold as easily as laundry.”

“Mm, that’s my hope.”

After kissing her shoulder one last time, he slowly withdrew from her. As convenient as it would be for them to wash up in the bath, he helped her get out and towel off. While she was on another trip to the water closet, he started draining the bath, quickly washed off in the shower, then stepped out for Alice to do the same.

He was dry and pulling on a new pair of sweatpants when the shower turned off. He allowed his gaze to appreciate her form while she dried off, then handed her a fresh shirt and told her to take her time getting ready for bed.

Although Indigo Cove was home to a number of brownies—shy, diminutive fae creatures known to discreetly tidy a person’s home in exchange for food and lodging—none had yet come to occupy his apartment, so he took care of the kitchen on his own, putting away a small amount of leftovers, loading what he could into the dishwasher, hand-washing the rest, and cleaning the floor where necessary.

Ten minutes had passed by the time he returned to his bedroom, where he found Alice sitting on the rim of his bed. She had let down her hair, and turned at the sound of his approaching footfalls. As before, his shirt was big enough on her that the collar partly exposed her shoulder.

“Do you want my help changing the bedding?” she said, tilting her head up more the closer he came. Indeed, they had left various fluids in the center of the bed. The reminder of all they had done to stain the bedding stirred heat in his groin, but the faint dark circles beneath her eyes forced his attention toward letting her rest.

Nodding, he offered his hand to help her to her feet. “We’ll make it quick. You look ready to pass out.”

Once they’d changed the top layer of bedding, Alice lay down in the center. He lowered the lights, then returned to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He had also done a small load of laundry that included her socks and panties, which he pulled from the dryer.

Before climbing into bed with her, he retrieved her phone and made sure it was within easy reach and charging. She had quite a few notifications, but the previews remained hidden to him. The time on his phone said it was nearly four in the morning. He had to be up again in a few hours.

Zero regrets.

He eased himself into place next to Alice, who lay on her side, already asleep, and carefully gathered her in his arms. She wiggled closer, tucking her back against his chest and hooking her leg around his to pull his thigh between hers. He made sure the blanket covered them, then settled with his cheek atop her hair.

Before sleep pulled him under, his mind turned to the difficult tasks that now lay ahead of him regarding the festival, his father, and Alice. Any serpent-folk attending the festival was allowed to invite outsiders, as long as they had permission from the host nest’s Basilisk, which meant Silas could bring Alice to the welcoming banquet without breaking any rules.

But that didn’t mean her presence would go unnoticed—and certainly not unremarked, especially by his father. Silas would need to speak to him ahead of time, a conversation practically guaranteed to be hostile.

He also had to worry about a challenge from Lance and the likelihood that Alice would have to watch him fight. On occasion, a challenge ended quickly and with relatively little violence, but one from Lance would undoubtedly be frightening to witness. He had to prepare for the possibility that Alice might wind up even more convinced they were “not meant to be together,” as she’d put it earlier.

The scent of her wound up distracting him. Beneath the light, floral fragrance of whatever styling product suffused her hair, he detected mint on her soft breaths and faint whiffs of something sweet and tangy that he knew was strongest between her legs.