by I. T. Lucas
Leaning back, he rested his palm on her soft belly—his large hand hot and heavy on her skin. For a moment, he didn’t move, just looked at her—his eyes betraying his thoughts. The smoldering desire, the love, the unmistakable ownership his hand on her belly symbolized.
There was no question in his gaze, it was a statement—a claim he knew she wasn’t ready to hear but was true nonetheless.
She wondered if he could read the truth in her eyes—that deep in her soul she’d known it from the start—from when she’d first seen him at that jewelry store. For a suspended moment in time, before her mind had taken over and the chasm of reality had opened between them, she’d reacted to him as a female would to her chosen male. And yet, she was still miles away from admitting it even to herself.
It seemed that he had known exactly what she’d been thinking. His harsh countenance softened, and the hand on her belly lightened and moved in a gentle caress—as if to say that it was okay, that there was no pressure, that he was going to wait for as long as she needed him to.
Damn, the man was reading her like an open book. She doubted even her own mother knew her so well. Amanda was just too good at putting up a show.
But for some reason, it didn’t feel as intrusive or scary as she would’ve expected it to. Because Dalhu loved her unconditionally, and she knew that whatever he saw deep down in her heart wouldn’t change it. Not a bit.
With him, she was free to be who she really was—imperfect, selfish, vengeful, hurting—and despite all the ugliness she worked so hard to hide from everyone, including herself, Dalhu would love her no less.
The silent communication between them must’ve lasted no more than a few seconds, but when Dalhu’s hand finally reached up and his fingers snapped the fastener of her bra, it felt as if she’d been waiting a long time for him to make a move.
Her nipples stiffened in anticipation of his touch, and she couldn’t help but arch her back in a long sinuous wave. He didn’t reach for her breasts, though. Instead, he hooked his thumbs in her thong and pulled it down her legs. When they were off, she lifted her torso to let the bra straps slide off her shoulders, and got rid of it.
Completely bare now, she relaxed on her back with the fingers of her hands entwined behind her head.
“Your turn,” she said. “And do it slowly, I want to watch the unveil.” Amanda hadn’t seen Dalhu fully naked yet. She’d seen all the important parts, but not all at once, and she couldn’t wait to see him in all his nude glory.
“Your wish is my command, Princess.” He smiled before grabbing the bottom of his T-shirt and pulling it up in slow motion.
“You’d better believe it.”
She watched him struggle with the slow pace. The poor guy wouldn’t have much of a career as a stripper. He was kind of clumsy in his attempts to look sexy for her, but she didn’t have the heart to tell him that. And anyway, if she hadn’t insisted on him going slow, he would’ve been out of his clothes and pouncing on her in a heartbeat.
As it was, even his awkward moves had done nothing to detract from the sexiness of his amazing body as he bared it for her hungry eyes one piece of clothing at a time.
Dalhu kept the best for last, and her mouth watered in anticipation of the grand reveal. He hooked his thumbs in the elastic band of his shorts and shimmied out of them.
Oh, sweet fates in heaven have mercy.
She remembered that magnificent shaft well, but that hadn’t stopped her from drooling in appreciation as it had sprung free out of his boxer shorts.
“Come here,” she commanded, beckoning him to her with a crooked finger.
He came to stand by the side of the bed, and she seized him not too gently. This wasn’t going to be tender lovemaking, at least not on her part. She still felt like hurting him, and if it meant that she was a vengeful bitch, so be it. Dalhu could take whatever she’d dish out and would probably beg for more.
She pulled, and he obediently climbed the bed, kneeling in front of her. But if Dalhu thought that she was going to take him in her mouth, he had another think coming. Getting up on her knees, she pushed him back until he was spread out before her.
The man was huge, his long body barely fitting the length of the bed. He must’ve been sleeping diagonally across it because he sure as hell couldn’t have slept comfortably otherwise.
It was a heady feeling to know that this fine exemplar of manhood was willingly submitting to her mercy, or lack thereof.
She used to think that there wasn’t much difference between a bully and a dominant, but now it occurred to her that the resemblance between the two was only superficial. The bully thrived on fear, deriving pleasure from terrorizing and hurting a weak or meek partner, as opposed to the dominant who derived it from the submission of a strong, willing one who chose to participate in the game for his or her own pleasure. Still, she could easily see how the distinction could sometimes be blurred and naïveté could be taken advantage of.
For a brief moment, a disturbing image of Dalhu tied to a post with whip welts marking his back flushed through her head. It disturbed her not only because she was the one wielding the whip, but because the image was making her wet.
When did I turn into a damn dominatrix?
No, she might scratch, and she might squeeze, and she might even bite, but she could never go that far.
Closing her eyes, she lowered herself on top of Dalhu. Her lips found his, and she kissed him, her tongue gently seeking entrance into his warm mouth. She felt his hands on her back, lazily caressing up and down until the kiss grew heated and he groaned, cupping her butt cheeks—each one fitting perfectly inside a large hand.
He was so hard and hot beneath her, swiveling his hips and grinding his erection against her pubic bone. She knew he was desperate to flip her under him and drive this hot rod inside her, but he was tolerating his subdued position for as long as he possibly could, waiting for her to give him permission to take over.
Not yet.
She kissed him deeper, her tongue caressing his elongated fangs in slow circles and driving him wild. His fingers were digging into her fleshy buttocks with bruising force and his groans were getting louder, but then he must’ve realized he was hurting her and eased up, only to go on exploring the valley between them all the way down to her dripping wet, hot center. He lingered there for a moment, circling her opening with the tips of three fingers, but he didn’t push in. Instead, he scooped some of her moisture and brought it up to her tight sphincter, shocking her with pleasure when he repeated the same move there.
Her eyes popped open and she looked at his smug face. “What are you doing?”
“What does it feel like I’m doing?” He nipped her chin with his blunt front teeth, and she felt his finger apply light pressure as if seeking entry.
“Don’t,” she breathed, though what she really wanted to say was please do.
It wasn’t that she was ignorant. Amanda was well aware that some people found this sort of thing pleasurable, but she had never tried it and had no desire to experiment. Except, although somewhat distasteful, it was also oddly arousing, and she was reluctant to insist that he stop his explorations.
“Please… I don’t…” she mumbled into his neck.
Trouble was, the odd sensation wasn’t restricted to the area in question. And the shockwave of intense heat sweeping through her, made her sweat worse than one of her breakneck runs on the treadmill.
Fates, what’s wrong with me?
CHAPTER 27: DALHU
The fact that Amanda wasn’t as experienced as she thought she was had taken Dalhu by surprise. Evidently, there still remained a thing or two he could teach her.
But this was probably not the right time.
Nevertheless, he was so damn thrilled at the prospect of being her first in yet another sexual experience.
So unexpected, yet so deeply satisfying.
Amanda’s lithe body was hot and sweaty on top of his, and her breath was coming out in short, shallow
puffs against his neck. Dalhu felt a wave of tenderness wash through him, and he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her to him gently.
Just for a moment, to let her regain her composure.
He had gotten the strong impression that Amanda didn’t want gentle. She was too angry—with him for being who he was, and at herself for wanting him despite it—to tolerate tenderness.
It was a shame, really, because he wanted their first time to be about making love, not about angry sex. But he would take whatever she could give and would be thankful for it.
“I love you,” he whispered against her damp temple.
She sighed and lifted her head to look at him. “Kiss me,” she commanded.
He did, his lips just a light caress against hers before he slid his tongue into her mouth and began a lazy exploration, slowly rediscovering her, getting reacquainted.
At first, she followed his lead, her lips and tongue just as tender, but then a low growl started deep in her throat and he knew the time for gentleness was over. She sucked his tongue into her mouth, forcefully, and when it was all the way inside she bit down.
The tangy taste was unmistakable—she’d drawn blood. But it had done nothing to cool his fervor; on the contrary, it had awakened the animal inside him. He felt an overwhelming need to flip her under him, to pin her hands over her head and ram himself inside her. But he squashed the impulse with all the force his willpower could muster. He had to allow her to be the aggressor this time, to take out all of her anger and frustration on him.
She withdrew her tongue from his mouth and licked his lips, smearing the few drops of blood she’d scooped up over them. “You taste good,” she said with a smirk.
“So do you.”
“Hmm, I wonder if the taste is the same all over.” She dipped her head and bit a soft spot between his neck and shoulder, her sharp little fangs drawing blood again.
She licked the wound she’d inflicted and looked up at him, her blood-smeared lips looking cruel yet sexy as hell. “This tastes good too. Let’s see if it’s the same over here.” She moved her lips up his neck and bit down there.
Dalhu’s bonds of restraint were starting to unravel and he was sweating with the effort of lying still and letting Amanda have her way with him. His damned fangs were throbbing with the urgent need of returning the favor.
But was he doing the right thing? Maybe she was spurring him on, on purpose, because she wanted him to overpower her? To take over so she could pretend that what was happening between them was out of her hands?
She’d bitten him two more times before he snapped and with a loud growl banded his arms around her and flipped her under him. She put up a half-hearted struggle when he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head, then held them there with one hand while the other one went behind her head and fisted her hair.
She was a strong female, but she was no match for him.
Gazing into her impossibly beautiful face, he read her expression to make sure that he’d not misunderstood her intentions, conscious or subconscious, and this was really what she’d been after. Her eyes were glowing, feral with a mixture of anger and need, and she was trying to free her head from his grasp so she could bite him again. He held on, tightening his grip on her hair and pulling back, which was no doubt causing her some pain.
And yet, she wasn’t telling him to stop or let go.
Wedging a knee between her closed thighs, he forced her to spread for him and positioned his shaft at her entrance. But he refused to let himself shove inside her before ensuring she was ready—even though she was sopping wet.
“I’m going to let go of your hair, but if you bite me again, I’m going to bite back, and my fangs are longer.” It wasn’t much of a threat, considering the properties of what his fangs could deliver, but it worked. Apparently, Amanda didn’t want to be out of it while experiencing his penetration for the first time any more than he did.
He released her, waiting for a moment to see if she was going to behave before bringing his hand down to her wet center. He teased her a little, gently circling his finger around her engorged clit while his mouth went for one sweet nipple, and he repeated the same slow circling move with his tongue. Amanda groaned—though he wasn’t sure if in pleasure or impatience.
Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to stretch things out for too long, considering that she was already angry and frustrated.
“Ah…” she groaned and arched her back violently when he penetrated her with two fingers, then shuddered when he pressed on her clit with his thumb.
He’d managed about a minute of foreplay before his need became too great.
Amanda was more than ready for him, and there was no point in prolonging the wait for what they both so desperately wanted. Needed.
He reached for his shaft and fisted it, positioning at her entry. She closed her eyes, her lips slightly parted to allow her rapid breathing.
“Look at me,” he growled. “Look at me when I take you.” He pushed just an inch inside her and halted, waiting for her to obey.
“Oh, fates,” she groaned, peering at him with hooded eyes.
With a grunt, he rammed all the way inside her, eliciting an echoing sound from her.
He hadn’t intended to do it like this, but going slow and penetrating her in increments had become impossible. The best he could manage was to refrain from moving until she grew accustomed to the intrusion.
Sweating, he held still on top of her, bracing his weight on one hand while his other was still shackling her wrists over her head with brutal force. He let go the moment he realized that he must be bruising her delicate skin, and probably restricting circulation to her hands as well.
Immediately, her hands went to his ass and her nails sunk into his flesh.
“Move,” she hissed.
Wild…feral…stunning… his woman was beyond compare.
And he moved—like he’d never moved inside a female before for fear of breaking her. But he had no such concerns with Amanda.
She could take it.
Loving every battering ram, moaning and growling in turns, she spurred him on, her hands gripping his ass and guiding him to go deeper, faster, stronger.
CHAPTER 28: AMANDA
Fates, this was a ride of a lifetime.
Dalhu was an animal—a wild alpha male in the midst of frenzied rutting. And she meant no insult by it. Coming from her, it was the best of compliments.
Their prior interludes had already raised the bar on her sexual expectations, but this was so much better than she could’ve imagined. It wasn’t only that he was bigger than any male she had ever had inside her, or that he was pounding into her with the force and stamina of a locomotive—there was something additional in play. A chemistry, a coming together of two formidable forces so powerful, so all consuming, that nothing else would ever do.
As she was losing her tenuous grip on lucidity, Amanda had the passing thought that this might be the start of the addiction.
A point of no return.
Or maybe this was a foregone conclusion from the moment she had decided to come back.
Too late for second thoughts now.
Dalhu’s thrusts were becoming even faster, and she had to relinquish her hold on his ass to grab hold of the bed’s headboard and brace against it to prevent him from driving her head into it.
As she felt him swell inside, she began orgasming, and a moment later he roared his completion and sunk his fangs into her neck.
Complete and total ecstasy.
This was how she would describe it later when verbal reasoning returned. In the meantime, she was floating in a haze of pleasure and euphoria and thinking of nothing at all.
When she came to, a few minutes later—or maybe longer? Who knew?—Dalhu was slumped on top of her, crushing her with his weight, and still out of it as if he’d been the one dosed with venom.
She pushed on his chest, first gently, and when that didn’t help, forcefully, managing to lift h
im a bit, just enough to wiggle out from under him. But that effort had drained the last of her energy and she just lay next to Dalhu spread-eagled as much as the space he wasn’t occupying allowed.
After a moment, she regained enough strength to move her head and look at him. She smiled. Lying face down, the only indication that he was still alive and breathing was the slight up and down movement of his wide back.
“Are you alive, big guy, or have I drained all of your life force?” She teased with a smirk.
He turned his head toward her, his face the most relaxed and peaceful she’d ever seen it. “If you did, then I must’ve died a happy man.”
“So that’s it? You’re done?”
He reached a long arm and pulled her to him, half turning to face her. “Not even close, I’m just taking a one minute rest. After all, I was the one doing all the work…” He kissed her lips before collapsing again—dramatically.
“Well, it’s not my fault that you wanted to be the big macho male. I was perfectly happy being the one on top.”
“I’ll tell you what, this time you can be.” He flopped to his back, pulling her with him to lie on top of him.
Bracing her elbows on Dalhu’s broad chest and her chin on her hands, she taunted, “Admit it, you’re too wiped out to move a muscle and just want me on top to do all the work.”
He smiled, not rising to the challenge. “I’ll admit that I’m a red marshmallow if it makes you happy.”
“A red marshmallow?”
He shrugged. “First thing that popped into my head, not very witty I’m afraid.”
“Hmm…” she frowned. “I wonder what it means…”
“It doesn’t mean anything, Professor, don’t psychoanalyze me— especially not while we are engaging in sexual activity. It could have, potentially, a damaging effect on my fragile ego.”
This was fun, this post-coital easy banter. She had never stayed with a guy long enough for small talk after she’d had her way with him.
As soon as she was done, she would thrall her partner, and the poor thing could barely remember his own name let alone conduct a conversation. And anyway, she doubted it could have been like this with anyone but Dalhu.
