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Weaving Fate

Page 15

by Octavia Kore


  Her brain wasn’t registering the hardness of the floor or the shadows playing on the thin walls. She was focused solely on the male between her legs as her hips undulated, rocking against the onslaught of desire.

  Clara cried out in frustration when he pulled his fingers from her body just as the heat in her belly had begun to expand. Zaheer’s muscles rippled beneath his fur as he moved up her body, stopping at her chest to lavish each of her breasts with equal attention, nipping and sucking on each pink bud like he’d done to her clit. He bucked his hips against hers, and Clara couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up past her lips as his cocks glided through the slick that covered her folds. The flared heads butted up against her swollen bud, the tendrils spreading the lips of her cunt open, as Zaheer tugged her hands over her head.

  “Tie me up,” she pleaded. “Bind my wrists, Zaheer.”

  Chapter 15

  Zaheer

  “Tie me up. Bind my wrists, Zaheer.”

  The words gave him pause, and he pulled back to stare down at his mate’s flushed face. “What did you say?”

  Clara’s tongue swept across her bottom lip, leaving a wet trail that he wanted to follow. “I want you to bind my wrists.”

  The last time he’d done that he’d accidentally marked her as his mate. He had no idea if his webs could hurt her again and the thought that they might made his stomach churn. “It could injure you—”

  “It’s okay,” she said hurriedly, flexing her fingers beneath his. “Please, Zaheer. I want it. Please.”

  The desperate desire in her voice speared right through him, and both of his khetis twitched, cradled by the heat of her sex. His tails uncurled from around her legs, and he brought her arms down so he could tie the threads around her wrists. He searched her face for any sign of discomfort, but all he saw was his own excitement reflected back at him. Clara’s lips parted on a breathy sigh, and the smell of her arousal thickened, permeating the air inside the outpost.

  His mate liked this.

  When he was finished, Zaheer pressed his lips to the threads before securing her hands over her head. “So beautiful.” The voice in his mind was so husky and laced with need that he hardly recognized it as his own. Clara arched her back, bringing her body flush against his at the same moment he bucked his hips, sliding the underside of his secondary kheti through the outside of her slick-covered sex. The lower tendrils stroked her, drawing moans and needy sighs from his female.

  Lured by her scent, Zaheer dipped his head and brushed his lips over Clara’s jaw. He nipped at the lobe of her ear, smiling as she gasped. His guardian growled, excitement and need pounding through him from his beast when his little mate turned her head, offering her bare neck to him.

  Ours, he hissed, slamming into the mental barrier. Submission. Sweet, exquisite surrender.

  Without waiting for his mind to catch up, Zaheer sank his fangs into the exposed skin between her shoulder and neck. Venom leaked from the tips, spilling into her as he reached for her braid, wrapping the length around his hand to hold her still. This wasn’t the same venom he used to immobilize his prey and break them down. It came from somewhere deeper and unknown to him, but his guardian thrilled at the sensation of it pulsing into her.

  Clara’s arms slipped over his neck, her moans filling the room as she writhed. Fire burned through his blood, fanning the heat that coiled low in his stomach. His khetis twitched, hot seed dripping from the tip and painting the curls that shielded her cunt as they writhed against one another.

  He wanted to be inside his mate. He needed her.

  The crown of his khetis bumped against the little nub, and Clara bucked, sucking in a breath as he pinned her hands back to the blankets. With his fangs still buried in her neck, Zaheer reached down between them with one of his lower arms to grasp his khetis. Excitement and anxiety warred within his mind.

  Slipping inside his mate, claiming her fully, was going to be a moment ingrained in his mind until the day he left this world.

  It wasn’t just the moment he took Clara, though; it was also the moment he broke one of his most sacred vows.

  This was the moment that he broke free from the priests, slipped out of the chokehold they’d had on him and every other guardian for generations unknown.

  Zaheer coated both of his khetis in her slick as he pulled back to stare down at her. Before he’d seen her naked body, he’d wondered how similar her species was to his. He knew now that Clara had only one slick hole, but she had responded favorably when he’d slipped his finger inside her puckered hole. He’d stretched her with his fingers, hoping and praying to the goddess that it would be enough.

  Bright red blood dripped from the punctures on her neck, and Zaheer dipped his head to lap her wound, soothing her flesh as he drew her scent into his lungs. Zaheer wrapped his tails around her thighs, desperate to anchor himself. Clara brought her bound hands up again to brush her fingers over the short fur on his jaw. Was she comforting him? She couldn’t possibly know about his vow, but perhaps, as his mate, she sensed his anxiety.

  “We don’t have to do this, Zaheer,” she said softly along the bond. “If it’s too much, we can wait.”

  His sweet little mate was worried for him. He’d waited too long already and made her doubt how much he wanted her; how much he wanted this. Zaheer nudged her hands back down and trailed his tongue over her pink lips before nipping the bottom one. “If I wait any longer to take you, I’m afraid I might lose my mind. I want to bury my khetis in you. I want to claim my mate and listen to her scream out her pleasure.”

  Clara trembled. “What’s a khetis?”

  Zaheer took her bound hands and guided them down his body until her fingers brushed the wet crown. The contact made his length jerk, and his female gasped before venturing lower to wrap her small hands around both shafts, pumping slowly. Goddess above. Zaheer’s vision darkened, and he struggled to breathe at the contact.

  “These are my khetis,” he managed, prying her hands from his body and securing them once more above her head. “Do your males not have them?”

  “We have different names for them, like cock, but human men only have one and they definitely look nothing like yours.”

  “Only one?” Zaheer frowned. “What does it look like?”

  Clara snickered and shook her head as a smile formed on her lips. “I don’t want to talk about their cocks, Zaheer. Those don’t matter. I want you to fuck me with yours. I need you.”

  A possessive growl rumbled up his chest at her words. She wanted him. She needed him. What they had—the life they would make—would be worth breaking every vow. He would risk it all for her. With both kheti covered in her slick, Zaheer notched them against her, burying his primary kheti in the inviting warmth of her cunt and then pressing his secondary into the puckered hole of her ass. He pushed through the tight ring of muscle, careful not to hurt her.

  Clara’s brows drew together, and her teeth dug into her bottom lip as he slipped further inside. When her body clenched around him, slowing his progress, Zaheer leaned down to press his lips to her cheeks, nose, temples, and lips. Sweat beaded her skin, and her eyes fluttered closed as he stroked her sides and her belly.

  “My sweet Aanih, I have you. Let me in.”

  His khetis throbbed as he waited. When both were nearly halfway inside her, Clara moaned. Her bound hands twisted above her head, fingers flexing and clutching at the air as she began to move her hips, drawing him in slowly.

  Zaheer was strung so tight he feared he’d spill within her body before he could even seat himself properly. He leaned back down, brushing his lips against hers. It was such an intimate little gesture and both he and his guardian had obsessed over the thought of it during their time away from her. Zaheer had plans to do as much as she’d allow him to for as long as they lived.

  Her lips opened, and he felt the brush of her tongue against his as he pressed forward, swallowing her gasp as hips met hers. Finally, Zaheer was buried inside his female.
/>   He let Clara show him how to use his tongue against hers. She taught him how to touch her, how to move against her in ways that pulled long, loud moans from her throat and soft, breathy sighs from between her parted lips. He watched her smooth pink tongue peek out and wished he could see what it looked like dancing with his black and ridged one. So many differences, he thought as he moved in and out of her. She should be ugly to him. She had been ugly to him once, his little Aanih, but now, all he saw were all the things that made her beautiful.

  Zaheer’s guardian broke through the mental barrier, making his fur ripple and revealing patches of black skin. His fangs lengthened and his nails turned into claws, the tips digging into Clara’s hips as he pinned her to the nest she’d made.

  Mine.

  My mate.

  My tsa.

  Zaheer pushed against his guardian, willing him to return, but this was as much his claiming as it was Zaheer’s and he failed to rein him in fully. Instead, he was left with the shimmering patches of skin and the elongated fangs and claws. If Clara found it distasteful, she didn’t show it. His mate brought her bound hands to his chest, brushing over the fur and flesh. He reared back, pounding into his mate’s body as desperate desire raked its claws down his spine.

  “God, Zaheer.” Clara’s mouth opened on a gasp as his lower tendrils pushed in beside his secondary kheti while his upper tendrils explored her folds. They curled around the swollen bud above her sex, swirling and flicking until Clara was begging, speaking things he didn’t even recognize as words.

  Frantic fingers clutched at his chest and with a snarl, Zaheer ripped her hands away, slamming them into the blankets above her as he pistoned into her hungry body. He pressed his weight down on her, pinning her, allowing her no room for movement. Her chest heaved with every breath, and if he hadn’t already been fighting not to spill, the sight of her pink-tipped breasts swaying with his thrusts would have brought him to the brink of madness.

  “Fuck! God, harder. Harder, Zaheer.”

  “You are not in control here, mate,” he hissed, gritting his teeth as pleasure speared through his lower abdomen. Zaheer slowed, his thrusts becoming shallow and prolonged. This might have been his first time inside a female—inside his female—but he’d pleasured himself enough over his life to know how to stave off his own climax. Zaheer found himself relaying his guardian’s commands. “Beg for it.”

  “Please,” Clara said, her anguished whimper nearly undoing him.

  “Please? Please what, little tsa? Tell me what you want.”

  “I want… harder. Please. I want more.”

  Zaheer slammed his hips forward, eliciting a groan from her as he thrust into her already clenching walls. They squeezed him, tightening almost painfully around his khetis. When her body bowed and she let out a keening cry that made his fur stand on end, Zaheer felt her pleasure sing along the bond, calling out to his own. The sensation of her walls contracting around him sent bolts of electricity shooting up his spine. A few hard thrusts later and Zaheer felt the bases of his khetis swell, locking them together moments before his release shattered over him.

  With his face buried in Clara’s neck, he roared as ropes of seed shot from his primary kheti, filling his mate’s cunt. He’d never felt a release like this, but his hands had clearly been poor substitutes for Clara’s grasping sex. She trembled again, forced into another orgasm as he continued to empty himself inside her. He’d heard somewhere that a male’s seed could prolong a female’s pleasure and he shunted into her gently, wanting to wring as much from her as he could.

  They lay there for long moments as Clara continued to spasm around his swollen kheti, her whimpers and moans making them both tense and twitch. Zaheer attempted to push himself up, but he succeeded only in resting his forehead against her chest as he fought to catch his breath. When he was sure his unsteady limbs would hold him, he levered himself above her and stared down into Clara’s face.

  Her russet brown eyes were shuttered, and her mouth hung open as if she was too exhausted to close it. She shook with aftershocks as his knots pulsed, and he wondered how he’d ever thought his tsa was anything but complete perfection.

  And now she was his, completely and irrevocably his.

  Zaheer gathered Clara to his chest and rolled, reversing their positions so that she was sprawled on top of him. The movement tugged on the swollen knots of his khetis still lodged inside her, pulling a pained groan from him. He sounded like a wounded pup and not at all like the Alpha he actually was.

  “What’s wrong?” Clara’s hands cupped his face.

  “I did not expect there to be this much pain with knotting,” he confessed, unwinding her wrists with his upper hands while his lower arms wrapped around her waist to keep her from moving. Clara’s cunt fluttered around him, and as impossible as it seemed, he felt more seed trickle into her. “Do not torture me.”

  Her lips curved into a smile and her cheeks flushed. “Sorry. When will it… go away?”

  “I’m not sure. I have never knotted inside a female before.”

  “Oh. I didn’t expect to be so turned on by a bite like that. I couldn’t even think straight…”

  “Do humans not bite?” He glanced down at her, worried he might have done something wrong.

  Clara shrugged. “Some do, and I’ve certainly never complained about it before, but most don’t break skin.” She winced as her fingers brushed the small wounds.

  “It wasn’t my intention to injure you. I have seen Krunkeeli males do this to stimulate their mates, to enhance their pleasure.” He skimmed his hands over her disheveled braid as her fingers combed through his tuft. Zaheer’s guardian had been insistent, demanding he bite her, and wondered whether it was as simple as the desire to please their female, or something more.

  The heat of Clara’s body warmed him. He moved his lower hands, gliding them down her body to her bottom, caressing, cupping, and squeezing. His mate was so soft there.

  “Zaheer?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Just for future reference, getting permission to touch someone while they're sleeping before it happens is ideal.”

  Zaheer cocked his head to better see his mate. “You offered yourself to me. Was that not permission enough to touch you?”

  “I… offered myself to you?” One of her brows rose. “How?”

  Zaheer shifted, tugging again at the swollen knots. Clara didn’t look angry with him, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he’d messed up in some way. “You were here in your pallet without your clothing. The only time that has happened was when we…” Clara’s entire body flushed a pretty pink, and she wriggled against him, pulling another pathetic whimper from his throat. “I assumed, because of what happened then, that your nudity was an invitation, an offering. You did not wish for me to mate you?”

  “I didn’t say that,” she said, pushing herself up so that she straddled his lap. The position elevated some of the pressure on his swollen khetis. “I just… I would have preferred to have been asked before. At least the first time.”

  “I see. I apologize for assuming and for not seeking clarification.”

  Clara blinked at him as if his apology had been unexpected. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  Zaheer’s lower hands gripped Clara’s thighs while he trailed the fingers of one of his upper hands from her navel, down the soft slope of her belly, coming to a stop just above the curls between her legs. He felt the muscles of her sex flutter at the contact and bit back a groan.

  “May I wake you with pleasure again? Would you allow me to touch you, mate?”

  She tracked his movements before meeting Zaheer’s gaze. “Please do. I’d like that very much.” When Zaheer took her hand and brushed his thumb over the scars on her wrist, Clara tilted her head. “Why didn’t you just tell me yesterday that these were mating marks?”

  “I was ashamed of what I’d done to you,” he told her truthfully.

  “Because you hadn’t meant to do it?” Za
heer nodded in response to her question. “Do you regret it?”

  His first instinct was to tell her he did not, but every time he looked at the marks he’d left on her flesh, guilt thrummed through him. “I regret hurting you and taking your choice away. I regret the way I handled all of this, but I do not regret you. If I were not a guardian, I might have understood the process of mating and I would have been able to avoid marking you.”

  Clara shook her head, clearly confused. “What does being a guardian have to do with it?”

  “I told you we leave our families behind when we are young, before most pups learn anything about mating rituals. I had no idea my web would burn you, and I still am not sure what triggered it. Guardians take vows never to mate. We’re not meant to settle down or raise families, so we are never taught the rituals of mating. I know my people choose who they wish to mate with, but I don’t understand how I could claim you without meaning to.”

  “Hold on. Can we go back for just a second?” Clara shook her head and held her hand out between them. “That’s part of the vows they make you take when you’re young? You called me your mate though, and we just…”

  “We mated,” Zaheer supplied when she struggled to find the word.

  “Right.”

  “If the priests knew what we’ve done I could be sentenced to death, and because I am the pack’s Alpha, their lives would also be at risk.”

  “They would kill you over sex?”

  “It’s not just sex, Clara, although we are not permitted to do that either.”

  Her brows furrowed, and he saw the moment things began to fall into place in her mind. Those expressive brown eyes of hers found his and her face dropped. “That’s why Ivnalth hates me, isn’t it? It’s why she was so mad.”

 

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