He smiled, his generous lips tugging up before he planted them on her. He kissed her as he covered her with his hard body. They met, skin to skin. Meg loved the way he pressed her into the ground. It wasn’t the most comfortable she’d ever been, but something about being held down did it for her. She let her hands drift above her head and imagined he had tied them down.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered as he left her mouth. His hands traveled down her torso, making her skin sing wherever he touched her. “I want to kiss you everywhere. May I?”
Don’t ask. Just do it. Take me. Instead, she sweetly replied, “If you like.”
He nodded and kissed his way to her breasts. The kisses were gentle, like little butterflies landing and taking off again. He took one nipple in his mouth and curled his tongue around it. He drew on the little bud, sucking and playing with it. Meg bit back a moan. Even though it wasn’t as rough as she liked it, it still felt good. It felt fantastic. Beck plucked at her other nipple with his fingers. Meg imagined that he had placed her in nipple clamps. He would tighten them just to the point of pain, and then his eyes would heat as he looked at her, trussed up and gilded for his pleasure. She would be his plaything.
His hand left her nipple, traveling down toward her pussy. He slid a finger through her labia. His head came up in surprise as he found the folds of her pussy already slick.
“You’re wet.” His fingers slid all around her pussy, delving deep and then shallow, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was feeling. “You’re soaking wet.”
Meg’s face flushed. She tried to pull away. She was sure he would take it as proof of her wantonness. “Sorry.”
He put his hand around her throat to stop her from squirming, and she felt a fresh rush of arousal spark through her. His hand was still moist from her pussy as he circled her neck. He couldn’t know what his hand collaring her neck did for her. He would be shocked if he did.
“You still want me,” he said with a great amount of relief. It seemed to break something in him, and he kissed her harder than before. He was still careful, but he seemed less tentative. Meg felt his iron-willed control. He was using it to hold himself back. Meg wanted to beg him to let go, to use that will on her. She would like it. She craved it. But she held her tongue, knowing he wouldn’t welcome that part of her.
Then she wasn’t thinking at all as his hand trailed back down, and he started to rub little circles around her clitoris.
“Tell me you want me,” he ordered in a rough voice.
Her body tightened at the masculine will in his voice. “I want you. Please.”
“Yes, wife, I will please you,” he promised as he disappeared under the blankets. He forced her legs apart, spreading her and placing himself between her thighs.
When his tongue replaced his fingers on her clit, Meg fought not to scream. His tongue slid all over her pussy, lapping and sucking and nibbling. He ate her like he was enjoying a rich dessert. She held her hands tight over her head and pretended he’d tied her ankles down, too. She imagined she was completely at his mercy, and he had none. He licked from her clit to her slit then plunged his tongue in there. He moaned as though he loved her taste and couldn’t get enough of her. He fucked her with his tongue. Meg pressed against him as he firmly stroked her clit with his thumb. She went flying, keeping her mind open so that she knew he felt her orgasm.
He reared up, the blanket he’d pulled over them falling to the side. He got on his knees and purposefully slid his cock over her soaking pussy, moistening it. He pulled down on her hips, slamming her onto his pulsating cock.
Meg nearly screamed. It felt so good to be impaled on him. Nothing in her life felt as good as Beck ramming his cock into her cunt. He looked down at her with stark eyes. His face was savage in the fire’s glow, and though she had just come, she felt it build again as he pounded into her.
He was so big inside her, she felt like she might split in two, but it was a good pain. She wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to tempt him deeper. She hadn’t taken all of him yet. He stared down at the place where his cock met her pussy.
“It’s beautiful,” he muttered as he watched himself fuck her. “You’re beautiful.”
She felt beautiful. She let her hands trail down his strong back to his muscular buttocks and let her nails dig in lightly. She wanted all of him.
“You open up for me.” He spread her legs further and shoved that last inch in.
Meg had never been so full. This was connection. This was what she’d missed all of her life.
He leaned forward so his pelvic bone ground against her clitoris as he swiveled his hips and panted. His long, dark hair flowed all around her. It tickled her skin, making her feel like he was touching her in a hundred spots. Then, only one spot mattered as he pushed himself deep one last time.
This time Meg didn’t hold back her moans. She groaned as he stiffened above her. She could feel his cock pulsing deep inside her, jetting his cum toward her womb. The orgasm rolled across her, leaving her trembling as he fell forward against her body.
She wrapped her arms around him. She could feel his heart beating against her breast. He nuzzled her neck. His cock was still inside her pussy, and if she could sleep that way, she would. He was everywhere, all around her. She never felt so safe.
He rolled off her, and she could feel his disappointment.
“I lost my head at the end, love.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I know I keep saying that, but I mean it. Did I hurt you?”
Meg turned her back to him, so he wouldn’t see her face.
“I liked it,” she said hollowly. She had until he opened his damn mouth again. “I’m not some fragile little thing. I won’t break, Beck. I liked it, especially at the end.”
He sighed and put a hand on her hip. “No, you didn’t. You’re just trying to be a good wife. I’ll be more careful next time.”
“Sure.”
There wasn’t going to be a next time. The sex was incredible, but it wasn’t worth the way he made her feel afterward. She thought what they shared was beautiful, and he kept making it something to be ashamed of.
He pulled her close, wrapping his thick arms around her body. He threw a leg over hers. Meg found herself thoroughly trapped in his embrace. She tried to pull away.
“Stay still,” he ordered quietly. “It’s cold. I’ll keep you warm.”
“And if I don’t want to be warm?” Meg squirmed against him.
“Then I’ll keep you warm anyway,” he said, his voice rough with command.
She sighed. He was so frustrating. He was the essence of the dominant male. It was in everything he did. Why did he deny it? Meg settled down. There was no way she was getting away from him. He set his face against the nape of her neck. His warmth was so sweet. Meg found herself pulled in again.
She was leaving in the morning. He had explained that he would get up and go find them some breakfast. While he was hunting, she would leave. Dante was wrong. It wasn’t up to her to train him. It wasn’t up to her to teach him that it wasn’t wrong to love the way he wanted to. He wouldn’t listen, and she would end up hating him and herself.
She would leave, and he would find a more proper bondmate.
“Good night, love,” he whispered in her ear.
She was silent because good night was good-bye, and she just couldn’t say the words.
Chapter Seven
Meg felt the minute he left the small bed they slept in. She felt him disentangle himself, and she certainly missed the heat of his body. He had draped himself around her all through the night, tangling their limbs together. She had never slept so well in her life.