The bones in my legs feel like they’re turning from solid into a liquid. I hold onto his head as that tongue fleshes out the noise in my chest. I hold onto him until my knees start to bend and my hips try to curl around his face.
He pulls me closer to him, spreading me with the flat part of his tongue.
It’s just too much, and before I sink completely down, I’m lifted up, put on his bed. He crawls between my legs with hungry eyes, his teeth dragging his bottom lip in with a groan. His shoulders spread my legs wider as he nudges himself into my space, my private space that no one has entered before.
It’s getting harder to breathe; I can’t feel the mattress against my back anymore. I try to curl around his head, and the flat part of his hand pushes into my belly to flatten me back out.
A gasp when he licks me harder as his finger enters me. One finger and it’s enough to make me want to come.
He spreads me wider, and the growl spreads through his chest. A moan comes from mine. It’s hard to think about anything else but that tongue circling around my womanhood, his mouth sucking it in, his tongue teasing it with small strokes. He adds another finger, and I feel the pressure of it, a small whimper that turns into a moan once I get used to the feeling of having something substantial inside me.
I can feel myself, oh, I can feel the tightening of my inner walls, and he pulls those fingers out and his tongue away. Panic comes from my lips. He’s not going to stop, is he?
He’s all flushed when he climbs up me, his mouth goes over mine, and I can taste myself on his lips. This feels perversely intimate, as if he’s sharing something special with me, and I’m sharing myself with him.
The feel of his stone-hard cock pressing into my mound drives me to shift my hips and spread my legs so he can settle the weight of him there. He’s on my neck, teeth scraping down the flesh. I can feel the lines that are left behind from the push of the points that are going deeper into the flesh, just not breaking through it.
I want them to break through, pierce me. I clench, thinking of the feeling of what it will be like. He’s pulled down each strap of my bra, unfastening it before laying my back against the mattress. He takes it off nice and slow, his head bent kissing my chest, kissing my neck, kissing my shoulders, back up to my mouth. His fingertip runs circles around my nipples, getting them worked up; the skin gathers all up and puckers tight. Painful almost, but his mouth is there to suck one of them inside. He’s all wet, and when he pulls away, he leaves a shine to the one. He explores the other, just as delicate.
“Have you ever done this before?” There is no judgment in his eyes.
I shake my head no.
His eyes half close, and before I know it, he starts to kiss me again, all urgent and hungry. His hand cups my breast again, and I lean my chest into him, wanting that hand to go right to the bones of me.
He grinds himself against my mound; the pressure is everything.
His thighs spread my legs as he centers himself to my center.
Cassius is all long-toothed now, and he’s staring at my neck. The skin of him is shifting underneath my palms, tensing, and I close my eyes, shut them up real tight, waiting.
Nothing happens…
“There’s no reason to be scared. I’m going to try not to hurt you.” He slides us into a sitting position, and my spread thighs wrap around his waist, his stone-hard shaft between us.
Dark pupils expand into the blue irises, taking control of his vision.
“You are mine.” His teeth scrape down my neck. His voice lingers against my throat. The breath in my throat shortens into a little gasps of tight air.
“You are my hope.” Teeth push in deeper to the hollow of my neck, voice rough and raw sounding from his throat. His tongue slides out and meets my naked flesh, licking at the spot.
My body begs for the feel of teeth in me; my neck arches and lengthens as his straight nose inhales against my skin.
“My love.” He exhales out. He’s all teeth now. I can feel his body shifting in the form of skin and fur. Combing himself into one form.
He lifts me by my ass, and I can feel the head of his shaft press into my entrance. He shifts his hips and kisses me again, with some kind of hunger that is barely controlled.
He sinks my hips down on him slowly, and there is a stretch that takes my breath right out of my lungs. His mouth is there breathing into me, filling my lungs up, forcing me to exhale out as he opens me up.
Cassius shifts up, and I am moved down in one movement that has me clinging onto my bottom lip with teeth. His tongue is there, to take my teeth away from my bottom lip. He lets his tongue swipe at my mouth, and I let my tongue swipe into his.
“My light.” Words on his lips press into mine.
Eye to eye.
We are joined. I’m not sure where he ends and I begin.
I take all of him to the base, and it fills tight, and the stretch hurts, but not as bad as I thought it would be; this is a different kind of hurt. Needed pain.
“My weakness,” his voice breaks through my moan.
He finally moves, and the way he does, it’s like he was meant to be inside me, shifting himself in and out. My hips start to move with his; again teeth scrape along the line of my throat. Digging in, hard, splitting the skin now.
He keeps moving inside me, pulling out, pushing in, while those teeth tease my flesh.
I’m holding onto his shoulders that are strong and dependable.
We make love on his lap.
“My strength.” His breath is quick. He lets out a gasp that’s held long after the words have come out.
I hold his face in my hands now, wanting to see him, wanting to see the desire he has for me. He can’t put those teeth away. He’s breathing hard with every push inside; I’m getting so close. I didn’t know it could be like this. I had expectations, but this, this was beyond what I thought it would be like.
He’s deeper than I thought possible; I’m stretched all around him. There is no space inside me left. He’s occupied it all.
He grinds himself inside me, pulls almost out, shoves back in. His tongue on mine, his hands all over me, he’s all breath and I am following his lead.
Again, his teeth find my throat, and I arch my neck to the side, allowing him to take it if he wants.
Take my throat, I want to scream, take everything from me, I want to give you it all.
The points are the first to be felt, he’s moving faster inside me, and he bites down, hard, and I can’t breathe…
He groans, grunts, and stiffens underneath me, pushing himself so deep that I can’t help myself from clenching all around him, trying to bring him into me more. My insides are milking what’s coming out of him.
This is blinding pleasure, where everything stops but what’s happening inside.
I can feel him pulsing within, each jerk of his shaft expelling his seed into me. I can feel it running out of me, and he continues and continues to come, and so do I.
Teeth retract; the flat part of his tongue licks at my neck until he’s satisfied with something.
My back presses against the mattress now. He hasn’t slipped out. He’s staying locked within my space.
I don’t want to move. His weight is a comfort, security.
“You’re okay?”
I want to ask him the same question, but I only nod my head yes.
“That was amazing.” He presses his mouth to mine. “Thank you.” Another press of lips to mouth.
“I’m going to love you the way you should be.” Another kiss.
“I’ve been in love with you for a while, and I won’t lie—it scared me.” His hips shift, and he’s still as hard as he was before I pulled down his pants.
“I needed to change before all of this.” He shifts his hips again, and I take the fullness of him between my spread legs.
I can feel the point of my teeth; I can feel the Wild’s urgent need to mark him, to claim this male and make him hers, and I want to claim him. I want
to put my mark on him and let everyone know he belongs to me.
His hand grips my waist as he pushes deeper inside, dragging himself out, pushing in.
“I don’t want to stop. I’m not ready to get out of you. Not yet.” My toes curl because he’s rubbing into the spot that makes me feel everything.
“I can hear you in my head. I can hear your voice.” There is a rush of his voice all over my tender neck.
My heel is running up the back of his thigh to push into his ass so he goes deeper.
He lifts his head and groans low, neck exposed.
“You have a beautiful voice, Sabe.”
For the longest time, that’s what we do, my name on repeat coming from his throat while he fills me and I try to hold him inside every time his shafts drags down before pushing back inside. Like a game of chase and hold. Our chests pushed flush together.
The mattress has too much give and he’s sinking me into it with every drive of his shaft. He’s becoming more insistent, more demanding on how I am taking him inside me. I spread my legs more, and my teeth draw blood from my bottom lip. He licks at it, cleaning me.
I moan with each hard thrust that digs in deep, filling me, stretching the inside.
His neck is there, right there, the hollow part where the skin on the bone dips down, and I know what to do, like instinct.
Teeth dig in point first, and I can feel him stiffen. His weight drops on my body, and he’s holding onto me, like something inside him is breaking apart while the inside of me becomes full.
Again my edge is reached, and this time I need to hold onto him just as much as he’s holding onto me.
Things are starting to fit together, weave into some kind of hardened structure that we now share together.
Everything changes. We hold ourselves together, clinging to the other as we drown then breathe finally together.
I want to tell him how much I love him, but the words are still stuck, and I’m afraid they might always be.
“It’s all right. I hear you now. I can hear you, Sabe.”
He tucks me into his chest with the words I love you pressed against my ear.
When I open my eyes back up, the sun has just come up, and I’m still wrapped up in his arms, held secure and with love.
I am loved.
Everything has changed.
About the Author
Rachelle Mills lives in Canada with her family and two dogs. She's a lover of all things that have to do with Nature and Wildlife.
Mills has won acclaim from readers for her fantastically realized paranormal werewolf universes, where alpha males fight tooth and claw and society – more often than not – is determined to make the path of true love as rocky and uncomfortable as possible.
Her rich, paranormal universe is packed with characters that frustrate and enthrall readers with an expert grasp of the complexities of the primal fight that werewolves have; their human, controlled side, and the vicious, ugly, and virtually untamable were-side which can leave a trail of destruction in its wake.
Mills’ writing style is charged with emotion and richly descriptive, bringing the universe of her often-gritty stories into vivid life.
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The Wildflower Series Page 69
