Filed to story: Reclaimed Book by Roxie Ray
As he held me, he kissed my neck, my chest, over my breasts. Then down to my belly, over my hands in his grip, and then over the waistband of my panties. He exhaled hard, and his warm breath washed over the fabric and my skin. The warm glow of desire became a raging fire.
I pulled against his hold, just to feel the resistance. I squirmed on the bed and threw my head back with a gasp. “Please,” I said. “Please, Steph, please.”
I tipped my head back down and met Steph’s burnished gold eyes. He looked so good between my legs. I wanted him to stay there forever. I spread my thighs wider in invitation. He kept my wrists in one hand, and with the other, he gripped my thigh hard enough that I’d have small bruises in my skin tomorrow.
His lips parted. Maybe I should’ve been scared to have those fangs so close to my pussy, but the sight of them only made me pulse harder with need. I rocked my hips again in a wordless plea-I was desperate for him to take my panties off and put his mouth where I needed him most.
But he didn’t. Instead, he licked a long stripe up the crotch of my panties.
I cried out a moan. Thank God we were alone. The cotton between his tongue and my pussy somehow heightened the sensation and drew me right up to the edge of pleasure. He responded to my sound with a growl of his own as he licked me again, and again, and again, like he was trying to taste me through the fabric. I was already so wet, he probably could.
He ate me out with none of his usual finesse and skill. There was just pure hunger, pure need, a wild-eyed desire as he drew his tongue all over me. Occasionally, he paused and exhaled hard into my thighs, fangs pressing to the skin there, like he was already eager to bite. All I could do was throw a leg over his shoulder and hang on for the ride.
He found the right rhythm, pressing the flat of his tongue to my clit over and over. “Like that,” I said through a gasp. I rocked my hips against his face, and there was that rumbling growl again, except this time I felt the vibrations of his voice in my bones.
It felt incredible. Pleasure coiled between my hips. He tightened his grip on my wrists, and with the other grasped my hip, pinning me to the mattress, his tongue focused on my clit.
I couldn’t control myself as I gasped out a series of desperate sounds, half moans, and choked-off syllables of his name.
“Steph!” I cried out.
My whole body tensed, and I arched my back off the mattress. The orgasm was so intense I saw fireworks behind my eyes. It seemed like it lasted forever, rolling through me, making my toes curl, making goosebumps dance down my forearms all the way to his hands still on my wrists.
Slowly, he released me and lifted his head. His mouth was slick with spit and my arousal, his face flushed, eyes burning gold.
He was so fucking gorgeous. I was so ready to spend the rest of my life with this man.
Steph released my wrists. He hooked both hands into the waistband of my panties. I expected him to pull them off, but instead he gripped them and ripped until the fabric tore in two.
Sure, I just had a mind-blowing orgasm, but I suddenly felt like I was about to have another one right that second.
He slid both hands up my thighs, then dragged two fingers over my pussy. I was so wet, dripping with need, and hypersensitive to his touch. I gasped at the contact like I’d been zapped. He smiled and kissed my hip, then pressed two fingertips to my entrance.
“No, no,” I said, shifting away from his touch.
“Hm?” He stopped immediately. He grasped my waist and crawled up my body, so his face was right against mine. “What is it? You okay?”
My heart warmed. “So good,” I promised. I caught his lips in a searing kiss. “Don’t want your fingers. Want your cock.”
“Jesus,” Steph growled.
I wrapped both legs around his waist. He reached between our bodies and gripped the base of his cock, then pressed the fat head of it against my slick, waiting folds.
“Please,” I gasped out. “Steph, take me! Claim me!”
He growled and entered me in one smooth, perfect thrust.
I gasped, my back arching as I clung to him. He groaned in pleasure as he began to thrust into me, over and over, in a perfect rhythm, at a perfect pace. It was like our bodies were made for each other. Well, we were fated… So, I guess they were.
I lost myself in it.
Sex was always good with him, but it’d never felt like this.
This close. This powerful. Like our bodies were merging into one. Two halves, coming together to make a whole. I kissed every bit of skin I could see-his face, his shoulder, his jaw. I dug my nails into his back and cried out his name at each thrust.
I wanted to be here forever.
“It’s so good,” I gasped. “So good, Steph, I love you, I’m gonna come again?-“
The pleasure was building again, low in my gut. Each thrust pushed me closer to the edge.
He was close, too. He pressed me harder into the mattress and thrust impossibly deeper. It was so goddamn good, my moan was nearly a shout. It was electric.
“Steph,” I begged into his ear, “Claim me, please, mate me, make me yours!”
Steph tangled his hand in my hair, tilted my head to the side, and sank his fangs into my skin.
I blacked out as I came.
It was better than any orgasm I’d ever had-and that was saying a lot. It was like a hundred orgasms stacked on top of each other. It was like sinking slowly into a hot bath, like an embrace, like the most delicious glass of wine I’d ever had. My entire body melted beneath him. Pliant. Knocked flat by desire and pleasure.
I kept my ankles crossed behind Steph’s back. His teeth were still buried in my neck as he came hard, his cock pulsing inside me as he spilled his release. I raked my fingers through his hair, holding him close as he claimed me. Blood slid down my shoulder onto the sheets.
Romantic, I thought in a dizzy daze of pleasure.
Steph released my neck. He was still buried inside me as he drew his tongue over the wound, lapping up the blood. The skin tingled as it healed, the process sped up by his shifter magic.
Then, I felt it.
It was like a candle had been lit somewhere deep in my chest. A small, flickering flame.
I gasped.
The bond.
“I feel it,” I whispered. “Steph, I feel it. I feel you.”
That’s what it was. A feeling of real, tangible connection between us. I was feeling my emotions, but not only my emotions. I felt love, and pride, and possessiveness, and joy… And it was all coming from Steph.
“I feel you, too,” Steph whispered against my neck. “It’s different than before. Stronger.” He sighed dreamily. “Feels like…”
“Like coming home.”
“Like home,” he agreed.
I caught his lips in another kiss. It was still deep, and tasted a little coppery from my own blood. Somehow that only made my heart beat harder. It was passionate, without the intense hunger we’d both felt before.
We lay like that, tangled together until we both caught our breath. With some reluctance, Steph finally pulled out of me, and I whimpered at the loss.
“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s clean up your bite.”
“You already cleaned it, right?” I complained. My legs felt like jelly. There was no way this man was expecting me to stand up right now.
“I helped it heal,” he said. “That’s not exactly cleaning it. We’re not in the twelfth century anymore.”
