13 – Fuck Her Like It’s Forever

Troy’s female moved fluidly underneath him. She’d come three times that night, but who was counting? He wanted big number four. After five, maybe she would be ready to hear who he was, and who she was. If he told her now, she was likely to bolt, that was perfectly clear to him, so he kept his mouth focused and busy and not talking.

Troy settled in, ready to spend the night right there. Lapping at his female was like drinking the sweetest syrup in the world and he had nowhere to be but right there. Her hips started to jerk and her sweet scent flooded the room, drugging him more surely than any drug had ever done. Her orgasm flooded his tongue and he held on tight as she arched her back straight up, crying out in a singular pleasure that made his dick hard as stone.

Her cries died down. He waited until he thought she could take a little more, and then he moved ever so slightly, his tongue gliding against the softest flesh imaginable.

“Ah!” She cried out and shot up in the bed, grabbing a fist full of his hair and yanking him up to her. He liked it a lot. He grinned at her.

“No more,” she panted. “I can’t.”

“Lots more,” he said. “You just need a breather.”

Her scent flared again and he knew he was right. She held his eye, sat all the way up and grabbed him by his dick, yanking him forward by it like she’d yanked him by his hair. He let out a moan-snarl, keeping it cool, but man did it feel good. He leaned into her and she lay back, her expression smoothing as he got close.

Troy didn’t hesitate, he covered his female’s body, nudging her legs apart, taking a nipple in his teeth, and thrusting into her slowly, seating himself fully, before pulling all the way out, then finding a rhythm, watching his female closely. Her eyes were closed, her hands had a death grip on the sheet below her, and her head was arched back, neck exposed.

Troy exploited the rhythm he’d found, working it for his female’s pleasure, not his. He grit his teeth against the pleasure like it was pain and denied himself any release. This night was about his mate, this night, and every night until the day they planted him in his grave. From this moment on, his life started and ended on her smile, only her smile.

One masculine tear came to his eye and he wiped that fucker away, never missing a stroke. He growled just because and bent to kiss his female, to let her know just how he was feeling, how sexy she was, how perfect, how lucky he was, but she didn’t want to hear it out loud, so he told her in ruhi, unable to contain himself.

He stared into her eyes. He kissed her. He alternately made love to her and pounded into her, spilling more senseless words about her beauty, telling her in ruhi how lovely he thought she was.

She looked away from him, then frowned and pulled her focus elsewhere, then, as if she was uncomfortable with his attention, she pulled off of him and flipped over, presenting her perfect ass to him, pushing it up against him, trying to tuck him inside her right away. He let her, forgetting for a moment what he was doing, as that spot on her left shoulder, where her neck met her collarbone, where the soft skin there called to him, right where he was supposed to bite, to claim, to take what was his, to ensure all knew what belonged to him…

The growling started.

The scent of peppermint floored him, so strong and biting and sweet at the same time. His mouth instantly watered. Bite her. Mine. Mine. Mine!

Troy thrust into his female, one time, then pulled out, then thrust again, his eyes focused on that spot, that tender spot just at the base of her neck

He pulled her hair, levering her closer to him, as her body pulsed around him and her scent went from sugary to syrupy, flooding the room again. She did not pull away or collapse, instead she set her jaw and her scent went greedy, and she pushed at him, demanding another orgasm, and another, and he would give her all she could handle. He licked his lips, his mouth feeling too small, his teeth, too big. He eyed that spot. Troy levered her back harder, baring her neck completely, then he claimed his female, inhaling her sweet spike of arousal and her fifth orgasm of the night that flooded him with more sensory input than he could handle.

He bit her and her blood filled his mouth.

She cried out.

Wings erupted from her back, shimmery silver and white wings that wrapped around them both, squeezing them together, their energetic pressure so strong it scared him a little. Confirmation fell in on him, confirmation he hadn’t even known he’d needed.

They were lifted off the bed. His mate trembled, neck arched back, eyes tightly closed, calling out her pleasure, pulling at him. He wrapped in closer to her, still spilling inside her, while she pulsed around him, his mind a streaming, blissful blank, while his body did what it was made to do. Troy squeezed his own eyes shut tight and held on for the ride, his mate wrapped safely inside his arms.

Troy didn’t open his eyes until they were both back on the bed. He blinked, breathing hard, trying to recover. No wings. His mate was limp on the bed, her body still pulsing lightly, her scent overpoweringly drowsy.

He leaned over her and kissed her with traces of her blood on his lips.

Troy reached for a towel, his mind reeling, his body suddenly heavy with exhaustion. He pulled out of his mate, kissing her on the shoulder, just over her mark, that looked like the aftermath of an explosion. The clock on the bedside table said just after midnight.

His eyes closed. His consciousness went blank. He fell asleep like he’d been pitched over a cliff.