by Sara Page
“There are so many injuries I don’t even know where to start,” Grogan mutters under his breath as he stares down at his load of supplies thoughtfully.
“How about we start at the top?” I suggest and Grogan nods his head, agreeing with me.
Reaching down, Grogan grabs up a small white box and tears it open, revealing a tube of cream. Gripping the tube in his hand, he straightens and takes a step towards Warrick.
Warrick narrows his eyes at Grogan as he approaches and his chest begins to rattle with warning.
Grogan freezes and I frown.
“Warrick,” I scold.
“I don’t want him touching me,” Warrick growls menacingly.
Grogan looks to me, his face full of uncertainty. His eyes are practically begging me not to make him go through with this which is surprising to me. Grogan is by no means a small male, in fact, for a chief medical officer, his height and muscles are quite impressive. I suppose I just forget how intimidating, even to other Ravagers, Warrick is.
Looking between Warrick and Grogan, it finally sinks in. Grogan is afraid of Warrick.
And what sane being wouldn’t be? He’s freakin’ gigantic. He looks like he was mixed between a monster, a Ravager, and a demon. Now that I’m really thinking about it, he kind of reminds me of those illustrations in all those books I read…
Shaking that thought from my head, I point out, “But you agreed.”
“Not him,” Warrick grunts, and I’m pretty sure he’s flashing his fangs on purpose. “You.”
“But I don’t know what I’m doing…” I start to protest as Grogan starts shoving the tube in my hand before I even get a chance to finish.
“I can walk you through it, Princess.”
Looking down at the tube, I furrow my brow and frown at it. Then I turn that frown on Warrick. “Very well.”
I eye Warrick’s head. Even sitting down on the bed while I’m standing in front of him he’ll need to bend down for me to be able to reach him.
“The cream is a healing stimulate,” Grogan explains as I motion for Warrick to bend down. “It will penetrate and absorb into the flesh, accelerating his natural healing abilities.”
Warrick bends down and I twist open the tube, squirting a little of the cream onto the tips of my fingers. “Do I just rub it in?” I ask.
“Yes,” Grogan answers.
I decide to start at Warrick’s forehead.
Smearing the cream across the smooth skin just above his brows, I then gently rub it in, my fingers moving in small, tight circles.
Warrick purrs contentedly, his eyes fluttering to a close as I work my fingers.
“Like this?” I ask Grogan, glancing over my shoulder at him. It seems so simple and easy, I wonder if I’m doing it correctly.
“Yes,” Grogan says, nodding his head. “Just like that. That’s all there is to it.”
“And all the other stuff you brought?”
Grogan reaches down, nudging through the small pile on the bed. “I’ve brought enough bandages to bind his ribs, and enough ointment to cover all of his flesh.”
Rubbing the cream in until it’s completely absorbed, I stop and Warrick’s eyes pop open.
Just as I’m squirting more cream onto the tips of my fingers, he reaches down and grabs me by the hips, hauling me into his lap.
“Hey,” I gasp at him and end up smearing some of the cream on his chest as I reach out, grabbing on to him for balance.
The corners of his lips pull up as he settles my weight on top of his thighs.
Puffing out a breath, I use the crook of my arm to brush my curls out of my eyes and reach out, rubbing in the cream I smeared on him.
Warrick bends his head back down towards me, his eyes closing once more as he relaxes with a peaceful look on his face.
“What about his horn?” I ask Grogan. Now that I’m closer I can see that it’s been broken a few inches above its base.
Warrick immediately stiffens beneath me.
“Is it causing you pain, Warrick?” Grogan asks.
Warrick grunts.
“That’s not an answer,” I point out.
“No,” Warrick answers stiffly. “I’m fine.”
“Interesting,” Grogan murmurs then asks, “Do you have any sensation in your horns?”
“Eh?”
“Do you feel it when they’re touched?”
Warrick rolls his shoulders in a shrug.
“Is it bothering you now?” Grogan asks, sounding more and more exasperated.
“I’m fine,” Warrick grunts, and I guess that’s all he wants to say on the matter.
Picking up a box off of the bed, Grogan rips it open and then empties it. He extends the roll of bandaging towards me. “I don’t know if it will do any good, but if you would like to try to save the horn, you can try rubbing the stimulate on it and bandaging it.”
“Do you want me to try?” I ask Warrick as I accept the bandage.
Warrick snorts through his nose. “There is no need.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” I ask as I squirt some more cream onto my fingers.
“Because you are enough to heal me,” he says assuredly.
Shaking my head, I snort softly as I reach up and carefully dab the cream on the thick crack where his horn was almost snapped completely off. “I’m no healer.”
“You heal me, Ameia,” Warrick grumbles, and I don’t know why but the deep sound surprises me. My fingers jerk and I end up piercing my skin on a jagged piece of his horn.
With a yelp I yank my hand back and frown down at the damage. A small bead of blood forms on the tip of my finger.
“Damn,” I sigh and lift my finger to my mouth, sucking on it to soothe it.
Warrick’s eyes flash open, glowing and intense. Seeing my finger in my mouth, he asks, “Did you hurt yourself?”
I nod my head slowly and slide my finger from my lips. “It was only a little prick,” I explain. “I’ll just put—“
Warrick reaches up and snaps the horn off of his head.
“Some ointment on it…” I finish in automatic.
Warrick gives the snapped off horn an offended look and then tosses it away.
“Warrick,” I gasp. “Why did you do that?”
“It hurt you, and I don’t need it. It’s useless.”
Shaking my head, I don’t know what to think about what just happened.
Reaching out, Warrick gently grabs my wrist, taking my injured hand in his and then holds out his other hand expectantly.
It’s a full minute before I realize what he wants from me. Handing the tube of ointment over, I watch him with a mixture of dismay and affection as he takes the time to carefully dab the cream on my finger for me.
“Warrick, my little booboo is nothing compared to your injuries,” I scold halfheartedly.
“My injuries do not bother me, but your pain… Pains me.”
My finger completely coated, he pulls my hand to his chest and holds it over his heart.
I feel my throat tightening up. I don’t know what I did to deserve such sweet devotion, but I’m swearing right now, on all the stars in the universe, that I’ll never take it or him for granted ever again.
Grogan clears his throat and we both turn to look at him. “I believe you have this well in hand, princess. With your permission, I’d like to depart and check on my other patients.”
“Yes, of course,” I stammer, my cheeks coloring with embarrassment for taking up so much of his time. “Thank you very much for your assistance, Grogan.”
Grogan nods and gathers up the empty boxes. “Good night, princess.” He nods respectfully to Warrick and walks to the door. Vis straightens away from the wall, seeing him out.
Once the door swishes shut behind Grogan, Vis plants himself beside the door, standing guard.
“Ameia,” Warrick rasps, his big, callused palm cupping around my cheek.
Turning my face, I have only a moment to brace myself before his mouth crashes into
my mouth.
Chapter Fifteen
Warrick’s mouth is hot, sweet, and overwhelming. He kisses me with a desperate need that leaves me reeling. He kisses me like my lips are the air and he is a man who is drowning.
It’s been far too long since we’ve kissed, since we’ve touched, and the energy that builds between us is instantly explosive.
Already, beneath me, I can feel him growing thick and hard with his need. His trapped cock is throbbing against my sex.
Just the memory of his size, and how he stretched me, how he filled me, has my blood boiling beneath my skin.
It’s been so long, will he even fit inside me? Or will I break beneath him? Split in half.
His mouth slants over my mouth as his hands roam down, covering and squeezing my breasts.
Instantly, my nipples tighten and my lungs expel what little breath I still had.
I can’t stop myself from moaning into his kiss as his big hands mold and shape my breasts against his palms.
I can’t stop myself from rocking on top of him. Already, I’m so wet and needy it would be so easy to come.
I want to touch him. I want to grab onto him, but then I remember he’s hurt. Seriously, what is wrong with me?
Get a grip, Ameia.
If we don’t stop, this could worsen his injuries or cause him more harm.
“Warrick,” I moan into his mouth, trying to pull away but his hands won’t let me escape.
Dots are flashing in front of my eyes from the lack of oxygen but his hold on me is firm.
“Can’t,” I groan as his teeth tug at my bottom lip. “Breathe.”
With a loud groan of his own, Warrick reluctantly tears his mouth away from me.
Staring into each other’s eyes we both pant heavily. His hands relax around my breasts but linger where they are.
So much hangs in the air between us but where do we even start?
“Ameia,” Warrick moans with need and the sound hits me deep inside my core.
I squirm a little on top of his lap and feel his trapped cock twitch and swell.
There’s always been this… intangible, electrical connection flowing between us. A type of warm energy that binds us together on another level.
As I rub against him, creating warm, fuzzy friction, I can feel that connection between us deepening. Solidifying.
Becoming something more.
But as much as I want to join with Warrick, I’m afraid of worsening his injuries. I’m afraid of causing him more harm.
I slow the rocking of my hips and his eyes flare.
“We shouldn’t…” I gasp and arch as his hand slides down my chest, over my stomach, and pushes between my thighs.
“We should,” he rumbles as his thick fingers find and brush against my sex.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to dull the spike of pleasure that slams into my core.
“So soft,” he purrs appreciatively as his rough, calloused fingers slide and scrape against me, pushing through my folds. “So warm.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, my muscles lock up and it’s everything I can do to keep myself from coming completely undone on top of his lap.
Through the pleasure I can feel the connection between us tightening, tugging. Pulling me closer.
“You’re injured. I don’t want to hurt you,” I pant breathlessly.
Why am I fighting this? It’s so hard to remember. I just know that I have to be careful that I can’t let go.
The thick tips of his fingers bump against my clit.
“You can’t hurt me,” he says, nearly chuckling as his fingers dance away. He sounds almost amused by my concern.
“I can,” I argue even as I lean into him. Almost giving in to him. Wanting nothing more than to grab onto his hand. To guide his fingers closer. To have my way with him.
“You can’t,” he growls more forcibly before he steals another kiss from my lips. “Your love, your touch heals me, Ameia.”
Once more his fingers find my clit, but instead of dancing away, they rub and work against it in tight little circles.
It’s too much.
White flashes in front of my eyes.
“Your pleasure makes me whole,” he growls just as I explode in a burst of warmth.
“Warrick,” I cry out, and I just need something to grab onto. I need something to hold onto as I ride out the waves of bliss.
“Mine,” he groans.
His fingers work against me relentlessly as he drinks the moans from my lips.
My hands find his shoulders and I latch onto him, riding out the intense sensations.
“Your light banishes my dark,” he murmurs through his kiss.
It feels like an entire eternity passes before I finally begin to float back down, reconnecting with all my limbs.
“Warrick,” I sigh, sagging in his arms.
“Mine,” he says again, more softly, more tenderly.
It takes me a moment to realize my eyes are closed. Peeking them open, I find him staring at me.
“Ameia,” he rumbles, his eyes warm, soft and glowing red.
I have only a moment to notice the change before his fingers are brushing against me again. I jerk and twitch, still overly sensitive.
One hand slipping behind my head to hold me in place, he stares deeply into my eyes as his thick finger slides through my folds and pushes into my entrance.
“So tight,” he growls as his finger slides in, spreading me open.
His finger is so thick, so big, I feel a pinch of resistance as my body adjusts around him.
“Warrick,” I groan, my eyes wanting to roll into the back of my head.
His hand tightens in my hair as he pushes his finger all the way in. With just his finger alone I already feel so full. He’s just so big…
Wiggling his finger, he works at stretching me open as he grunts with some frustration. “You’re too small, Ameia.”
My nails dig into his shoulders as he slides his finger out and then thrusts two more back in.
“I can take you,” I gasp.
I’ve done it before, surely I can do it again.
“No,” he growls, pumping his fingers in and out of me. “I’ll split you in half.”
“Maybe I’ll like it…” I start to say and then cry out as I’m suddenly flipped onto my back.
Rising above me, he slides his fingers out of me and brings them up to his dark lips, tasting them.
Watching him lick his fingers, my heart flutters behind my ribs with excitement.
“Delicious,” he grins down at me, his lips now shiny and wet.
Flat on my back with Warrick looming above me, I have this new appreciation for the sheer size of him. Really, massive just doesn’t even begin to describe him. He’s a bulging mass of dark muscles, hard planes and demonic ridges.
While I know inside he’s as gentle as a teddy bear and feels nothing but love for me, down here, prone beneath him, he’s a little terrifying.
The broken horn on his head does nothing to dispel the illusion. If anything, it makes him look that much more intimidating. So tall and wide, I can’t see anything beyond him. He fills all of my vision. It’s as if he fills all of the room.
On my back, I’m a little overwhelmed by him, and there’s this little ball of anxiousness growing in the pit of my stomach as the effects of my little orgasm wear off.
Perhaps this time he’s right, he won’t fit. Perhaps he’ll break me.
I watch, enthralled, as he bends towards me, his hands grabbing the bottom of my skirt and shoving it up.
Snorting through his nose, his hot breath hits my thighs before he pushes my legs open. I’m exposed.
Excruciatingly vulnerable.
Without my skirt there’s nothing between us.
I have only a moment to brace myself before I feel his hot breath hitting my lips then his hungry mouth is pushing against my sex.
“Ameia,” he growls, the vibrations causing all kinds of delicious little jolts of
pleasure to course through my bones.
Crying out, my hands claw at the bed as his tongue and lips spread me open for him. Preparing me for what’s to come. I’m still so sensitive, each lap of his tongue, each puff of his breath is felt times ten.
It feels like only seconds pass before I’m arching up, off the mattress, my muscles going taunt with expectation.
His tongue glides through my folds and then his mouth covers my clit. Pulling back a hard suckle, I’m left hanging on the edge. Ready to plummet into the blissful abyss.
But then he shoves two fingers inside me.
Again, there’s a pinch of pain, my body resisting the stretch. But Warrick takes his time, using my own wetness to ease the way.
Slowly, he pumps his fingers in and out of me until I can easily withstand their breadth.
Then he pulls away, his warmth momentarily leaving me as he frees himself from his pants.
His cock springs forth, black, thick and throbbing, with a bead of pre-cum dripping from its head. He’s impossibly big. Seriously, I swear he’s grown since the last time I saw him. Or perhaps it’s all a matter of perception.
Down here, he seems to swell, to grow. An aura of crackling energy sparking on his dark flesh.
There’s no time for second thoughts, no time to back out of this. How could I say no now, especially when I know how much this means to him?
I know he won’t hurt me, I know it. Yet there’s still this tiny little voice of reason inside of my head insisting he won’t fit.
Gazing down at me like I’m the most beautiful creature in the world, Warrick lowers himself down.
First his shadow covers me then his weight, sinking me into the mattress. With his hands, he pushes my legs up, my knees nearly reaching my breasts as he spreads me wide enough to accommodate him.
I feel so vulnerable like this, so exposed.
He settles himself between my thighs and groans as the crown of his cock bumps against my entrance.
“Warrick,” I gasp as he begins to ease himself in.
There’s a little tug, a little bite of resistance and then he’s gliding in, my body accepting him.
Inch by inch he fills me up, stretching me until I feel like my entire body is full of him and only him.
“Ameia,” he groans as he bottoms out, unable to go any deeper.
