Page 115

I bit back my grin and settled my hands on his hips, giving them a squeeze. “I’ll let him know.”

Chapter 42

In So Deep

Klaus

Brian was high on my pheromones.

He’d been inhaling them at max strength for four days now, so it wasn’t surprising. He’d also been fucking me non-stop for four days straight, so my poor werewolf was starting to flag. Just a little. His dick was still going strong, hard and red and swollen, but apparently I’d pushed all those muscles of his to their absolute limit.

The spirit was willing…

He was currently sprawled beneath me on the bed, eyes dazed and half-closed, hands on my upper thighs, his beautiful stiff dick throbbing inside me as I rocked against him. My hands were on his chest, squeezing those deliciously full pecs and feeling his stiff little nipples against my palms.

I wasn’t exactly with it either, but my head felt a tiny bit clearer than it had over the last few days. I was more coherent, at least. And everything seemed a little more in focus—not just a blur of heat and hardness and glorious pressure in my body.

Which meant I was truly savouring this languid fuck with Brian. My limbs were loose and relaxed, my hips were rocking easily, and my pace was slow. I was riding him because he was so exhausted, and I loved getting to watch every twitch of his body, every little expression on his lupine face.

My chest felt so full. The heat-addled part of my brain wanted to heap praise on him for pleasing me so well, but the rest of me, most of me, wanted to declare my undying love for this beautiful werewolf.

Oh Lucifer. I was in so, so deep. Deeper than I’d ever been before. I’d thought I’d fallen in love in the past, but the idea of that was laughable now. I’d never, ever felt like this before, about anyone. It all paled in comparison to him.

“You did so well for me, Brian,” I told him, my voice slow and heavy with lazy arousal. I was still riding his dick at that languid, savouring pace. He groaned tiredly, his fingers twitching on my thighs before sliding up and down in a lazy caress. “You’ve made me feel so good.”

He groaned again, hands tightening on my thighs as his ass strained off the mattress to sink his cock deeper on my next downward rock. His heavy gaze roamed over me, settling on my hard prick as it bobbed over his stomach with every rock of my hips.

“Wish I could suck you,” he slurred, sliding a hand inward to give my dick a soft, stroking caress. I shuddered with a whimper, lashes fluttering from the teasing pleasure.

I wasn’t going to lie—I kind of wished that too. But I wasn’t saying that out loud, because it wasn’t Brian’s fault that he couldn’t shift out of his werewolf form during his rut. Besides, both of us had been too worked up and frenzied over the last few days to do anything other than fuck like feral animals. When his rut started winding down and he could shift back, I was going to run my tongue over every single inch of his beautiful body.

For now, I rode him nice and slow as he stroked my cock from root to tip in his big fist. It wasn’t long before I was coming, this orgasm slower and sweeter than all the ones before it, making me shiver and clench up around his dick as I throbbed in his fist. He lifted his head and opened his mouth, revealing his sharp fangs, to catch my release on his tongue, which made me come even harder.

Only then, as I was catching my breath on top of him, did he clamp his hands on my hips and start rutting up into me. He was shaking from the effort, his muscles no doubt screaming in protest, but the haze of his rut drove him to come deep in my body no matter the cost to his.

My eyes threatened to roll back from the wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure that blasted from him. I absorbed it greedily, and wanted to grin with wicked pride when my body tightened up again as his orgasm came to end, demanding that last spurt of release from him, and he whined and writhed beneath me on the bed, shaking uncontrollably.

With a dreamy sigh of relief, I sat my full weight on his pulsing knot and went boneless. Brian’s feet were planted in the mattress, knees cocked, so his quaking thighs were the perfect backrest for me. The big hands on my hips kept me grounded and stable, letting me relax completely as I settled in for Brian’s wonderfully drawn-out orgasm where his knot kept dry-pulsing inside me.

I realised I was smiling deliriously wide. I felt floaty. Airy. The knot of tension inside me was so sated and loose and full that it no longer felt like it existed. It had just become one with the rest of me, expanding to fill every part of my body, fitting comfortably in all the gaps around my organs and bones and muscles.

Something was definitely different internally after that last fuck. The actual heat part of my heat seemed to be coming to an end. The part that felt like I was literally on fire if I wasn’t being pumped full of pleasure. My head wasn’t really any clearer, but the focus had begun to change, shifting away from the relentless, driving need to hungrily consume as much sexual energy as possible.

Now came the second stage of a concubus heat: seduction. Of course, in any normal circumstance, the seduction stage usually came before the insatiable fuckfest, but not when it came to our heats.

Once we were fully sated, full to the brim with the sexual energy that nourished us, our instinct was to make sure our partner was just as satisfied so they were more likely to feed us again. It was a deeply ingrained urge to secure a good, reliable energy source.

It’d made me feel a little gross during my last heat, especially because my roommate had also been an incubus, so he’d known what was happening. He was actually the one who’d explained it to me. I’d been dreading the thought of it ever since, because it was so… hollow. Manipulative.

But it wasn’t hollow with Brian, because I would mean every single word.

I wasn’t going to seduce him so he could reliably feed me in the future. I was going to try and seduce him into loving me like I loved him.

But apparently, that bone-deep, sneaky concubus instinct to seduce wasn’t above doing so when Brian was still high on my pheromones and his own rut haze. His rut was still going strong. It seemed to be a particularly intense one—not that I’d ever helped any other werewolf through a rut before. But it had been four days. Four days of endless fucking, and he still wasn’t sated.

I liked to think it was because of me.

So I pounced.