Chapter Thirty-Seven
Rykaur had never seen anything like what took place before him now. He’d had no idea what some females had to endure to give birth.
He would never allow Mary to endure such torment. No matter how much he might want children someday, he wouldn’t do that to Mary.
He glanced down at her worried expression, and his stomach clenched. What had he been thinking, taking her without thought of her becoming pregnant? She was human, a tiny human at that. She would never be able to birth something that came from him. His baby would kill her.
Nausea rolled, and he sucked in a deep breath.
Mary peered up at him. “That doesn’t happen to all women, Rykaur. Abbie had Hauke’s child, and she’s not much taller than I am.”
“I am not willing to risk it, Mary. I could not bear it if I lost you due to my selfishness.”
A small cry rent the air, just as Mary opened her mouth to respond.
An overwhelming emotion came over Rykaur, and he stumbled into the room a few steps.
Zaureth lifted the crying baby into the air as Abbie cut the cord. “Your son, Anthony Vaughn.”
Rykaur watched as Zaureth cleaned the child’s face and cleared his airway before handing him to his father.
Mary’s body heat seeped into Rykaur’s arm, telling him that she’d moved up to stand by his side.
The sight of Tony holding his newborn son in his arms, tears dripping down his face and his shoulders shaking with emotion humbled Rykaur. He was grateful to able to witness Anthony Vaughn’s miracle, even though it scared him to his core.
Klause, Laurel, Hauke, and Vaulcron came barreling into the room, all of them stopping as Zaureth held up a hand. “Please remain back until Abbie has finished working on Naura. It is for sanitary reasons.”
“Let us go,” Rykaur whispered to Mary, who had a suspicious moisture in her eyes. “I am sure they would like some privacy.”
Mary nodded, blinked several times, and followed Rykaur into the hall.
He mounted the ATV she’d driven to the clinic, sliding back to give her some room in front of him.
“You want me to ride in front?”
His shaft twitched at the thought of her bottom pressing against it. “If you will.”
Mary climbed before him, settling herself in the small space the ATV afforded her. She leaned back against him.
Rykaur bit back a moan, wrapped an arm around her waist, and started the ATV. He leaned down until his lips brushed against her ear. “I want inside you.”
“Now?” Mary breathed, wriggling her bottom against his throbbing erection.
He brushed her hair aside, taking in the pulsing thrum of the vein in her neck. “Now.”
Pressing the gas, Rykaur drove north instead of turning back toward the Bracadytes’ living quarters. Thoughts of Mary writhing beneath him tormented him with every mile he traveled.
He came to a stop outside an empty cavern, scooped her up into his arms, and quickly dismounted.
“Where are we going?” The breathless sound of her voice wasn’t lost on him.
Rykaur strode to the back of the cavern, set Mary on her feet, and unlaced his vest. “Remove your clothes.”
He knew he sounded guttural and desperate, but he didn’t care. Mary’s blood called to him almost as much her body did. And Rykaur intended to take both.
Mary’s hands trembled as she yanked her shirt over her head and toed off her shoes. Unzipping her jeans, she peeled them down her legs and stepped out of them.
Rykaur removed his own boots and shorts, his shaft springing free in aching relief.
Without speaking, he stepped forward, backing her against the smooth rock wall behind her.
“I cannot get my fill of you,” he growled his fangs descending at a rapid rate. “You have become an obsession, an addiction that I cannot get enough of.”
Mary’s eyes glittered with lust. “Then take me, Rykaur. Hard. Don’t hold back. Do what comes natural to you.”
“I do not want to hurt you.”
She reached out, gripped his hand, and brought it to her hot, wet sex. “You won’t hurt me. I’m more than ready.”
Rykaur felt as if a fever raged inside him, so great was his need for her.
He pulled free of her hold, spun her around, and pressed her against the wall.
His foot slid forward to kick her feet apart. In a guttural voice he didn’t recognize, he demanded. “You better hold on.”
Wrapping a fist in her hair, Rykaur jerked her head to the side, sank his fangs into her throat, and entered her with one swift thrust.
Mary cried out, her hands flexing on the rock wall in front of her, and tilted her hips for his next downward thrust.
Rykaur drove into her again, hard enough her feet left the ground. He kept a suction on her throat to prevent his fangs from tearing her skin.
“Oh God,” she gasped, fueling his lustful frenzy. “Yes!”
That was all Rykaur needed to hear. He released his hold on her hair and gripped her hips tightly in his big hands.
With a snarl of possession, he held her immobile, pistoning into her with sure, powerful thrusts.
She was so hot and wet that Rykaur couldn’t contain the frenzy he’d fallen into.
And then her sweet, tight vaginal walls clamped down on him, ripping a snarl from his throat.
He could feel her contracting around him, hear her cries of surrender, echoing throughout the cavern.
Rykaur lost control.