Series: Lee Savino
Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
I smile like a satisfied cat as he makes the bed shake with his thrusts. “Not a virgin anymore,” I brag.
Because I’m damn proud of taking control of my sex life. Of asking for and getting what I need. Of ruining all of Thom’s plans for me.
“No, you’re not, are you?” Darius braces one hand beside my head, using the other to keep my head from hitting the headboard. “You’re mine now,” he declares.
The rebel in me wants to deny it. I may like to pretend I’m the fair maiden captured by the Viking, but in real life, I belong to no one. Never again will a man hold me against my will.
Except Darius isn’t holding me against his will. I want to be here, underneath him. I want to be the one driving him and his bear mad. I want him to claim me as his. Even to mark me with his scent, so all other shifters know.
I want to claim Darius Medvedev right back.
“You’re mine now,” I say back to him.
A slow smile spreads across his face, and he thrusts with intention. Like he’s staking his claim on my pussy. On my womb. “That’s right, little dove. I’m yours. You want this cock, you demand it. Morning, noon, or night–it’s yours.”
It feels so good that my eyes are rolling back in my head. I want nothing more than to be filled by this beautiful man-bear. Except, then it’s not enough. I need more. Faster.
“Please,” I start to chant. “Please…now. I need it.”
“You need to come, sweetheart?” Darius’ voice is rough.
“Yes. Together.”
“You want us to come together?”
I want it. I may be inexperienced with sex, but romance novels have been my only form of entertainment for the past ten years. I’m programmed to believe in that holy grail of completion–the simultaneous orgasm where fireworks go off and volcanos erupt.
I want to reach the apex with Darius. I want us to be in this together. Because I suddenly have the sense that it’s the only way we will succeed against Thom. Love is the oldest magic.
Thom separated me from Wren to keep us from using it against him, but he didn’t count on Darius. The man whose bear knew we belonged together.
And I have the sense that together, we’ll be unstoppable.
“Fuck,” Darius mutters. “I’m losing control.”
“No biting,” I remind him, gasping at the force he’s pounding me with. “Now, Darius! Please!”
Darius’ face contorts. His beard seems to grow before my eyes. He gives a shout and then bucks into me, the bed slamming against the wall so loudly, I suspect all seven of his brothers will hear it.
“Yes!” I shriek. “Yes!” I catapult off the edge, tumbling and spinning into oblivion.
There aren’t fireworks. It’s an avalanche. A cascade of pleasure that turns me inside out. And also a volcano–that’s Darius, erupting and spewing his hot seed into me. So hot and copious, I swear I feel it hitting the back wall of my channel.
Afterward, it’s the eye of a hurricane. The whipping winds of a storm all around us, but we’re in the center, floating.
Cocooned in the still point of togetherness.
Darius
“Paloma,” I croak, as reality seeps back in, and I realize what I’ve done.
I didn’t bite her. At least, I don’t think I did.
But I was out of control.
Fate, I could’ve bitten her. If I ever lost control of my bear around her, I could inflict serious damage. Hell, I could even end her life.
It’s enough reason to break this thing off completely when we’ve defeated Thompson.
Never. My bear roars to the surface.
I roll off Paloma before I do something I regret.
She gasps at my sudden withdrawal.
I stand beside the bed where my feet landed, my gaze drawn to my cum smeared between her legs. “Fuck, Paloma. I lost control. I didn’t use protection.”
“I know,” she says, calm as a cucumber. Are cucumbers calm? No, they’re cool. Well, she’s cool as a cucumber, then.
Agony over my mistake rolls over me. “I’ll get you a washcloth.” I head to the bathroom and get a warm cloth as she calls, “It’s okay.”
When I return, I find Paloma trailing her fingertips through my essence, using it to stroke herself, painting it all over her inner lips and clit, like she relishes being coated in my scent. Like she’s marking herself human-style.
I nearly lose it again, my bear tearing at the leash, dying to sink his sharp teeth into her delicate human flesh. I freeze halfway across the room to her, breathing deeply through my nostrils to force my bear back down.
Paloma watches me with heavy lids, still stroking, as if she gets off on torturing me this way.
“Fuck, I want you,” I mutter when it’s safe to walk again.
“You have me,” she purrs.
“It’s not enough.” I’m suddenly upon her, spreading those knees wide and using my tongue to help her distribute my essence over every millimeter of her sex.