by Lila Dubois
She brought her lips within inches of his back, and then dropped her hands, running them over his cock, locked behind the denim. He hissed and bucked his hips into her hands.
She loved how he reacted to her.
When he’d settled down, his cock hard as iron under her unmoving hands, Jane licked one of the leaves of his tattoo.
Michael jerked up onto his toes, shudders rippling his back. He cursed, maybe prayed, in an unknown language.
“Again,” he pleaded, “please, again.”
Jane popped the button of his jeans and slowly slid the zipper down. Her fingers found hot, smooth skin beneath. Using hands and legs, Jane got the jeans down to his knees. She slid her fingers around his cock, feeling his long, smooth length. Michael’s hands wrapped around her knees, his fingers digging in.
Jane rested her cheek on his shoulder, away from the tattoo. She couldn’t see his face, couldn’t see his cock, but she had no doubt that he was completely focused on her.
“Jane, Jane, Jane,” he chanted.
“Do you want me to kiss you again? Do you want me to lick your pretty tattoo?” she taunted.
“Please,” he begged, thrusting forward into her fist.
With his cock vised in her fists, Jane licked his tattoo, following the path of one of the main vines up from the middle of his back. His hips pumped forward, his fingers digging into her knees.
Mine. This man, whatever he is, is mine.
“You’re mine,” Jane said. Michael’s voice saying those same words to her days ago echoed in her mind.
“Yours,” he agreed, and Jane rewarded him with a scrape of her teeth across his back.
Michael shuddered again. “I won’t be able to hold on much longer.”
“Are you about to lose control?”
Michael twisted to look back at her. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I know you won’t, I trust you. But I want to know if this,” Jane rode her fist up his cock, swirling her palm over the tip of his cock, “or this,” she lapped his tattoo, “is making you lose control.”
“Yes, yes. You, you make me lose control.”
“Do you want me?”
“Yes, so much.”
“I want you to fuck me. No more playing, no more games. I want you to fuck me, the real way.”
Jane dug her nails into his shoulders and dragged them down his back. Michael shuddered, but it wasn’t the same reaction as when she’d used her mouth, so Jane set to work with her lips and teeth. She moved one hand up from his cock to his chest, digging her nails in to his chest to hold him still. Tracing his vines with her teeth, she nipped at the leaves, as if she were plucking them with her teeth.
His big, muscled body twitched and shuddered in her hold.
She would make him regret not loving her. He would remember this night forever, would remember her forever.
“Mine,” he panted. “You’re mine.”
“And you’re mine.”
“Yes.”
“Then take me.”
Michael spun, still trapped in his jeans. Jane opened her arms, and Michael came into them, kissing her long and hard. She felt him shuck his jeans. He slid one arm under her waist, hitching her farther up on the bed.
They were fused at the mouth as they desperately scrambled back. As soon as they were both on the bed, their hands went wild. They were frantic for each other, desperate to touch and be touched.
Jane could feel his cock pressing against her belly, and she wanted it inside her.
“I want you, please, Michael.”
“Yes, my Jane, my Jane.”
His cheek pressed to hers, his breath loud in her ear. “Spread your legs for me,” he begged.
Jane wiggled her legs apart, kissing his shoulder.
“You want this?” he asked, rubbing his cock against her belly, shifting his hips to rub it against the plump mound of her sex.
“Don’t tease me anymore, Michael.” Jane cupped his face in her hands, looked him in the eye. “I want you. I want this.”
“I want it too. I want you. Now. Always.”
Jane’s heart gave a shuddering lurch and tears formed at the corner of her eyes. Michael reached between her legs stroking her sex, spreading her body’s moisture to coat the inside of her sex lips.
“I won’t last long. I want you to come first,” he said.
“No, I want you in me. Please.”
Michael’s nostrils flared, and lightning flashed in his eyes, but she was not afraid. She would ride this storm.
“Jane,” he said, whispering her name like a prayer. His hips dropped between her thighs, the tip of his cock sliding down between the lips of her sex, bumping over her clit, before coming to rest at the entrance to her body.
They stared at one another. Something had passed between them, stripping the surface passion to reveal raw emotions.
It’s just sex, this is just sex. Nothing will change, nothing will be different.
Everything was about to change.
“Do you still want me? You are worried, not passionate.”
“So are you,” Jane countered.
“Hmmm.” Michael paused to consider this for a moment, then dropped his head to kiss her shoulder. “I won’t take you like this, it feels wrong.”
“Michael, no! I want this, please.” She kissed his shoulder, trying to convince him. He tilted his head up and looked at her, seeming to consider her words. She kissed the line of his jaw, the corner of his mouth. He kissed her long and deep. The kiss started slow and then built to the kind of passion that couldn’t be denied.
“I will take you,” he said with a growl, “and I will fuck you until the only thing you can say is my name, because you are mine.”
And like that arousal flooded Jane. The growl of command was back in his voice, and the beast of passion he’d woken within her reacted, stretching and writhing beneath Jane’s skin. She wrapped her hands around his back, pressing them into the strange glittering tattoo that graced his spine.
She arched her back and tipped her head. Michael’s lips roamed her throat, pressing hot openmouthed kisses against her. She wanted to ask him again, again and for the last time, to take her, but there were no more words. He whispered things, low words that became a baritone chant. Her body lit beneath his. She felt like a shooting star, climbing, flying, brilliant white and glowing. His chest pressed to her breasts, her nipples raked his pecs. Her legs were hooked over his ass, which was clenched and tight.
Michael’s mouth fused to hers, his tongue pushing into her mouth. They kissed and kissed, barely stopping to breathe. His hand slid between them, grabbing her breast. He mauled her breast in his hand, squeezing and plumping the flesh, which was swollen with arousal. Her nipple, pebbled and needy, danced against the wall of his chest. When he pinched her nipple with his fingers, plucking and rolling, Jane bit his lip. She felt each squeeze and twist of her nipple in her sex.
Michael growled something she couldn’t understand and looked at her. The lightning flashed and crackled in his eyes, the full power of the storm raging within him. His fingers left her breast, sliding under her so he could hook his hand over her shoulder.
They looked into one another’s eyes, and said things they could not, would not, say in words.
The tip of Michael’s cock nudged its way between the lips of her sex. He was big, both long and thick, and Jane could feel her sex giving way, yielding, opening for him. When the tip of his cock, firm and round as a plum, was in place, Michael lowered his head and kissed her.
His cock surged into her, slamming deep into her body in one hard thrust.
Jane gasped against his mouth and all she could think was yes, oh yes. This is what I wanted, needed. He’s big and hard and thick and mine.
Jane’s hands slid across his back, which was slick with sweat. At certain places her fingertips tingled, as if there was electrical wire under his skin. Jane traced the tingling, traced his tattoo, and then pressed her fingertips into the s
ensation.
—mine, she’s mine always mine. Mine forever. My mate, my love—
It sounded like Michael, and for a fleeting moment Jane believed she could hear his thoughts, believed, because she needed to, that at that moment he was thinking of her, desiring her, loving her, though she knew it was her own imagination.
His voice echoed in her mind, his gaze rested on her, his cock was buried in her thick and hard. Jane belonged to the monster, body and soul.
His cock slid out, then thrust back a single time, and that was all they needed. Michael and Jane came, together, their orgasms feeding on one another. The tingling against Jane’s fingers increased, and pops of light filled the room. Her body clenched down around Michael’s huge cock. He was wide and thick inside her, touching her in places that had not known a man before.
Michael jerked his cock in and out a few more times, groaning and growling in pleasure as he did so.
He collapsed on top of her. Jane couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t care.
Mine.
Chapter Twenty-Four
They tangled together for a long time. Neither slept, but they did not speak. Michael had rolled so Jane was on top of him, her knees tucked up on either side of his hips so that his slowly softening cock was still firmly in place.
Michael sighed with contentment, stroking Jane’s back. This was the happiest he’d been in a long time. He was worried about the rest of the day, worried about showing her his true form, but now that he had a plan he was much calmer. If he’d had to face this day knowing he had to let her go…
It wouldn’t have been pretty.
Kidnapping her and taking her to one of the Captive Caverns wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had. Both his friends and hers would be angry, but it wasn’t like he’d keep her there forever. He’d keep her until she learned to accept his monster form. He’d tell her everything she wanted to know about his Breed and how they’d earned their place in human mythology. He’d let her ask a million questions, between bouts of sex, of course.
She’d been turned on by the story of the girl sacrifice to the dragon in the cave, so maybe she wouldn’t be that upset if he kidnapped her in real life.
He’d asked Runako to clear out one of the Captive Caverns and stock it with enough food for six months. The caverns were built into the mountain where his Clan lived, and had been built when they migrated from Europe to America, though they’d rarely been used. Times had changed, and humans just didn’t sacrifice virgins like they used to.
The mostly unused caverns were built to house humans who were brought among the monsters. Most contained a few restraint devices for when the humans got frisky, and Michael planned to put them to good use on a frisky human of his own.
Thinking of Jane bound to a stone platform by chains, legs spread, nipples hard from the cold stone against her soft flesh, her body spread open and his to use as he pleased, brought Michael’s cock to full hardness again.
Jane shifted as his cock grew hard inside her.
Unfortunately her shifting pressed her body weight onto Michael’s bladder. He manfully ignored it, cursing the useless human body with its tiny bladder. Another ten minutes passed before Michael couldn’t ignore it anymore.
He kissed Jane and rolled them over, pumping his hips a few times, so his cock slid in and out of her.
“I’ll be back,” he promised, kissing her flushed cheeks before slipping his cock out of her and darting to the bathroom.
It took longer than he would have like in the bathroom—especially since his erection refused to go all the way down and Michael wasn’t familiar enough with this body to know if pushing it down to pee was a good idea—and by the time he emerged, Jane had curled into a ball under the covers.
“Are you sleeping?” he asked as he climbed onto the bed. Now was not the time for sleeping. It might be the last time they’d have a human bed to use for sex, and Michael intended to make use of it.
“No,” she whispered. There was sadness in her voice.
“Why are you sad?” he asked, then, with alarm, “are you crying?”
“I’m not crying. I’m not sad. There are just…a lot of things to think about right now.”
“All I’m thinking about is you,” he said, throwing the covers to the end of the bed, exposing her nakedness.
He stroked her belly and thigh, coaxing her out of her ball so she lay flat on the bed. Her nipples were pebbled in the cool air, and Michael swooped in for a taste. Her nipples were firm and soft in his mouth. He teased them with his teeth, tugging gently.
Jane’s fingers were tangled in his hair, massaging his scalp.
He moved to her other nipple, toying with the first with his fingers. His other hand dipped between her legs, stroking her sex, dipping in to find…
…she was completely dry.
???
Michael lifted his head. “Jane?”
She petted his cheek. “I’m sorry. There’s just a lot on my mind right now. I’m not really in the mood.”
Your woman doesn’t desire you. You didn’t pleasure her well enough. She plans to leave you today. She is afraid of you and will leave you. She will find a human man, and he will fuck her and fuck her and fuck her…
Michael growled low in his chest.
Jane rolled her eyes. “Come on, Michael, I’m just not in the mood right now.”
“Finally we have a chance to have sex, and you are not in the mood?”
“We just had sex.”
“It was short. It didn’t count.”
“We both know that today is going to be…weird. I think maybe it would be better if we just eased off the sex,” Jane said as she wiggled out from under him. She jumped off the bed and headed for the bathroom.
Michael’s monster crawled beneath the surface of his skin, the bones of his wings pushing against the tattoo on his back. He reined his monster in. He would not lose control. Not now.
Michael jumped off the bed and grabbed Jane by the hips, pulling her back against his body. “I am not done with you yet.”
“Michael…”
“I think you’ve forgotten the rules. I think you’ve forgotten who you belong to.”
“For the next few hours,” Jane said, voice flat.
Her words stabbed into his heart. His mate didn’t want him.
“You. Are. Mine,” he ground out. He picked Jane up and threw her on the bed. He grabbed her wrists and jerked them over her head. “Mine.” He ran his hand from her neck, over her breasts, down her belly to her sex. He forced her legs apart and cupped her sex.
Jane’s eyes widened, and there was the faintest hint of moisture in her sex. Michael rumbled in pleasure. This thinking she was doing was clearly a bad idea, so he’d have to give her something else to concentrate on.
“You need to be punished for what you just did,” he said, watching her face for her reaction. She licked her lips. He tapped her sex with his palm, a light spanking, and she made a little sound.
He flicked her nipples and said, “Keep your legs spread so I can look at your pussy.”
She bit her lower lip, sucking it between her teeth, and Michael knew he had her.
He pressed his lips to hers, sucking her lip out of her mouth and into his. He toyed with her breasts and teased her sex. Soon she was wet, and Michael circled her clit with his fingertips, bringing her to orgasm.
Or, at least, that was the plan.
After fifteen minutes of clit play, her sex was dry again and she hadn’t come. Michael, utterly perplexed, lifted his head from her breasts and looked down at Jane.
She was crying.
Not good.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “There’s just all this stuff going on in my head, and I want to have sex with you, I want it so much, but I thought it would be…easier, if we didn’t, so I said no, and then you did the whole masterful thing, which was hot, but there’s still all this stuff in my head, and I just can’t come, I just, I just…”
Jane
was forced to stop by her need to inhale and Michael took advantage of that to kiss her and jump off the bed.
“Don’t move.”
He raced for the bathroom, grabbed the thing he’d been eyeing for the past week, and ran back to the bed, landing on it with a bounce.
He lay on his side and pulled Jane into his arms, so she was cuddled to him, their chests pressed together, her head resting on his arm. He pressed them together as securely as possible, offering her the comfort of touch. Her crying had stopped; she was silent but shivering. Michael laid his cheek to hers and listened to her breathing. If he concentrated he thought he could hear the beating of her heart too, the stead thrum of her blood moving. She was fragile, for all her courage and strength, and he had been rough with her. He couldn’t promise her not to be rough, because that was his way, but he could offer her these soft times.
After long peaceful minutes, Michael started stroking her back. Stroking her back turned into stroking her side, including the edge of her breast. Eventually he rolled her onto her back, keeping his arm beneath her head.
“Michael, I…”
“Shhh…”
He slipped his leg between hers, then draped one of her legs up over his thigh. He stroked her breasts and belly, her legs. His hand ventured farther south to her sex. He stroked her pussy, just petting it, then dipping in, each pass of his fingers pressing a little deeper. She was moist, but not madly aroused.
“Michael, I don’t think I can…”
“Trust me, Jane.”
He separated the lips of her sex, stroking the inner lips and her clit.
“Play with your breasts,” he coaxed, and Jane’s hands moved obediently to her own breasts. She stroked and flicked her breasts and nipples softly. Nothing they were doing was enough to bring her to orgasm, it was only enough to arouse her. But Michael had a plan.
Jane’s eyes fluttered closed, and Michael stopped playing with her pussy only long enough to reach behind himself and grab the thing he’d gotten in the bathroom. He pressed the tip to her clit, careful not to press the bristles too firmly against her.
