“I thought...,” his face grew shuttered. “We found...remains. I thought it was you...I thought I was too late.”
Remains? The only remains he would think were Adda's were ones he couldn't identify. The left over gore from a possession maybe? She swallowed, a flash of memory, of a man burning alive while she did nothing, while she could do nothing. Tears formed and she struggled to swallow. Gods she was breaking.
Then she was wrapped in strong arms, bands that comforted and yet allowed no resistance.
Scet lifted her from the ground, as if picking up an empty fold of cloth. He moved to the opening she and Kiskan had just entered through. Adda caught sight of one of the sentries. The man glanced at them, and then up and away, before returning his gaze to them, mouth open as if to speak. Scet's powerful glare must have spoken some warning, for he closed it with such rapidity his teeth snapped together audibly.
“Keep them guarded until I return.”
Her breathing had slowed and she could think enough to ask the questions she knew she should. “Return from where, Scet? What are we doing?”
He huffed softly, but did not answer, just strode with her trapped in his embrace, out into the night. He walked for a few minutes, far enough to feel as though they were very alone in the forest. She twisted in his hold, peering around.
The moon had appeared over the mountain peaks and it frosted the trees with a silvery light. The wind that had begun that morning settled into an eerie stillness so that the grasses and trees were silent.
“There are creatures out here,” Adda worried, as he worked his way farther from the encampment. She squirmed a little, signaling to be let down, but only managed to encourage his grip to tighten.
“We will not go far,” he assured her. “And I set patrols in a wide arc from camp. We will hear them if something is wrong. I need to be alone with you.”
They entered a small clearing where the moonlight reached a patch of soft grasses and moss. Here, Scet finally released her, setting her lightly on her feet. She turned toward him, her nervousness directed at him now rather than the forest around them.
“Why? What are we doing here?”
“I thought I lost you, Adda...I thought...,” he ran a hand into his hair, staring at the ground. “I might have lost you, and I am not wasting any more time,” he lifted his gaze to hers.
A feral grin lifted the corner of his wide lips. Not a look of happiness, but one of determination, a man who knew what he wanted and was going to get it. And Adda knew, then, the way all prey knows when the hunt is about to end, that he was going to make love to her. He reached over his head, pulling at his shirt, raising it up over his taught stomach and chest and over his head, tossing it carelessly aside.
“I have tried, Adda, to not want this, but you are impossible to deny.” He narrowed his eyes, challenging. “Tell me you do not feel it, too, tell me you do not want me now, inside of you, filling you. Say it and we will return to the camp.”
She swallowed. She could say it, but it would be a lie. Even just his words in that smoky voice of his, simple, and brutally honest, had her body humming. There were no vows of false love, no pretty lies, and she had a feeling that such was the way of Scet. Honesty. A man with nothing to hide. And he wanted her. He knew all she had become and still he wanted her.
She struggled to remember why she had resisted in the first place.
When she didn't respond, didn't deny her need, he stalked forward.
Adda froze, unable to do anything more, her body trembling, torn between the need to submit and the instinct to run.
Slowly, he circled her, his nostrils flaring, catching her scent. Her arousal. Muscles rippled with each step and she found herself turning with him, trying desperately to tamp down the rising excitement.
She watched him with a sense of awe. He was incredible, this bear-man. Wild and dangerous, like the forest itself, and, in this moment, primal. His face savagely beautiful as he watched her, he enticed every part of her, tempting, luring her in.
He reached downward, eyes still holding hers, toward his waist and the very firm bulge that strained against his soft leather pants. Slowly and deliberately he undid the ties.
Adda's breathing hitched. Gods she had never seen anything so erotic as this man stalking her. She couldn't help but follow the movement of his hand, over the delicious ripples of his stomach. Her own stomach clenched as he freed himself, his erection pushing outward, heavy against the remains of his laces. He took the member in his hand, stroking it once, twice.
Adda couldn't breathe. Six help her but she was going to pass out from the desire hammering through her veins. She could feel the tremble in her fingertips, the urge to reach out and replace his hand with her own. Yet still she sat, on the edge of lust's blade, not giving in completely and not running.
He watched her, still circling, a knowing look on his face, his determined gaze flowing over her, as if she was already undressed and naked before him. He licked his lips, the tip of his pink tongue darting out, and then caught his lower lip between his teeth.
Her heart rattled in her chest.
“I can give you what you need, Adda, passion like you've never known. Pleasure that no other man can match.” Something flashed across his face, jealousy? At the thought of past lovers? “Do not deny me, do not try to tell me you don't want this as much as I do.”
She didn't. Because he was right, she wanted this.
He closed in, great paw of a hand in her hair, running along the strands.
“You are so beautiful, Adda. Bewitching. I can think of little else but having you. My cock has been hard since I carried you up that cliff.”
“I noticed,” she bit out. The tension was getting to her, setting her on edge...and he had barely touched her.
Scet chuckled darkly. He leaned in and inhaled deeply, a rough sound of masculine satisfaction escaping him. “You are ready for me, even now.”
She whimpered when his mouth caught hers, the hand that had been stroking her hair curled around the back of her head, keeping her in place.
He devastated her lips, crushing and nipping, then retreating to tender brushes and tentative licks. He plunged his tongue inward, demanding compliance.
Adda yielded, opening for him, letting her own tongue dance with his, eliciting another satisfied groan.
He pulled back, releasing her. She was a little ashamed at the desperate sound that she made at the loss.
“Undress,” he commanded. He took a step back and wrapped a hand around his cock again, stroking.
Embarrassment and excitement shot through her in equal measure. He had seen her naked plenty of times, so it wasn't bashfulness that she felt, yet part of her resisted the idea of stripping for him while he touched himself. The other part of her found it highly erotic. She struggled for a moment with the disparate parts of herself before reaching down for the hem of her dress. She had already fallen, there would be no bowing to pride now.
She lifted the beautiful soft leather up over her hips, then, raising her arms, pulled it over her head. She dropped it to the side, standing before him now, naked except for the bindings on her wounds. Still, he watched her as though she were a fantasy come to life.
“I can't wait to have you, to push inside of you and feel you wrap around me. Lay down.”
Adda did as he said, with only a little bit of awkwardness. The ground was covered in a soft grass, and not nearly as hard as she imagined. The chill of night kissed her skin, raising little bumps along her arms, and tightening her nipples.
“Beautiful,” Scet whispered, his voice hoarse.
Adda looked up at him. He stood there, legs splayed above her, his member ridged and pointing right toward her. He was all strength and muscle, but in his eyes, a fierce lust and something she couldn't decipher. She was never going to forget the way he looked in that moment. Such a thing would be the fuel for her fantasies well into the years when she would become an old woman.
Then he was on the ground with her, over her, leaving a rain of open mouthed kisses on her skin. He was everywhere, licking her neck, and then suckling at one of her breasts, making hungry lost sounds. His hands roved, too, fingertips running through her hair, or along her arms until his palm was flat against hers, the tips of his fingers curled slightly around, enveloping hers, just as the man enveloped her.
He tossed a thigh over her and pressed close. His hardness pulsed along her hip and she bucked up against it slightly. It raised a strangled noise from Scet, who was busy nibbling a line from her earlobe to her collar bone.
“Don't do that again,” he panted against her throat, “or I'll take you right now, hard and fast like I've needed to for days.”
Tempting. Immediately, she bucked again.
Scet hissed a long drawn out breath and then flipped onto his back, pulling her with him, so that she was splayed on top of him.
“I wanted to draw this out for you, to give you time to adjust, I am not a small man,” he informed her.
“I can take it,” Adda leaned forward and kissed his mouth, those soft lips opening for her so readily. Truthfully, she was a little nervous. He was a very large man, and despite her claim, she wasn't entirely certain they would fit together without discomfort. But she hoped so, because now that she had made up her mind to make love to him, she didn't think she had the patience to wait any longer.
She sat, a thigh on either side of his hips, and bucked her hip again, rubbing against him, fitting his heavy manhood against that perfect spot. Pleasure shot through her and she moaned, and thrust once more.
“I don't think so, Adda,” Scet growled through clenched teeth and grasped her hips, stilling her movement. “You will not get pleasure for yourself. Only I will give you what you need. Raise yourself.”
Reluctantly, she pulled her hips off of him, giving him space.
And then the swollen head of his penis was at her entrance, pressing inward, just a little. Adda groaned and pushed back against him. It felt so good, so right, and he slid in, but the pressure of his entrance stretched her farther than she expected.
She froze, her body clenching around his width. He stopped, too.
“Easy,” he murmured in the smoky tones, soft and with a slight awe to his voice. “Go slow, Adda, you will adjust to me.”
She groaned, and pressed back again, wanting more, wanting to take more, but her body refused. She whimpered.
“Shhh,” Scet crooned. Then, sitting upward, he propped himself with one arm and reached the other down to where they were joined. The touch of his fingers there sent a shock of energy through her, pleasure and sensuality. She forgot about thrusting and simply focused on what he was doing.
Up and down he ran his fingers through her folds and then gently he began to circle the little nub there, every so often flicking across it.
Six. She closed her eyes and shifted toward him, the movement allowed him to slide farther in. A delicious fullness added to what he was doing with his fingers and she almost came apart right there. But she wanted more, she wanted to be completely together.
His ministrations were working, she could feel her body relaxing. Tentatively, she pushed back again, taking more of him.
He hissed. The slowness of their joining must have been nearly too much to bear, yet he did not move, did not force himself inward. Opening her eyes, she looked at him, his face was tight with unleashed passion, a muscle jumping along his jaw, and he was watching with a fascinated hunger, as she lowered herself on him.
The sight of it was all she needed. Whatever had been keeping her body tense yielded and she slid downward, taking him all.
He growled, a satisfied sound, tossing his head back with the pleasure. His throat exposed muscles there working. Still, he didn't move, and when she tried to he stilled her with the hand that had been playing and teasing. For a long moment, they sat like that.
“This is what I need, Adda. Tell me you feel it, feel the pull.”
It was a question, sort of, but also a command. His head tipped back forward and he cracked an eye open, watching her, watching her reaction.
And she did feel it. There was something more there, something bigger than that being the most erotic moment of her life, something bigger than the orgasm growing inside her even though he was not moving yet. A tendril of remembered fear, of how he could hurt her crept in and she had to block it from her thoughts.
She nodded, not willing to lie. Not now.
He moved then, not in and out as Adda expected, but grinding against her in slow circles, each pass rubbing along her inside walls. His fingers returned to her folds, stimulating the taught bud of her clitoris, teasing and grinding. The combination of pressure inside and pleasure without had her writhing against him.
“That's it, Adda, let go now,” he commanded through clenched teeth.
Her muscles bore down again, tighter and tighter, this time shuddering with need, and then she was exploding, ripples of the most intense pleasure she had ever felt tearing through her, up her back and into her limbs and right down to her toes. She cried out, unable to help herself.
It sparked a cry from Scet and then he was grinding, not with a slow, even rhythm, but wildly. His entire body ridged, until, at last, his cry of release mingled with her own.
Adda slumped forward, her head on his chest, exhausted and more content than she had felt in a long time. Scet's arm curled around her, and the last thing she remembered was him resting his chin on her head, softly humming an old lullaby.