The feel of his calloused fingertips stroking with demanding warmth sent her juices flowing from her pussy. The inner muscles pulsed and throbbed as she pressed back, so eager, so desperate to feel him thrusting inside her she could barely stand it.
"Do it already," she demanded, her voice hoarse as his fingers slid between her thighs to test the slick wetness once again. "God, Styx, what have you done to me?"
"Loved ye well, lass. Ah hell, I'll always love ye well."
Did he realize what he had said? Storme felt her chest tighten, her heart aching as the swollen head of his cock pressed between the swollen folds of her sex.
"Love me well." She couldn't believe she was demanding it. That she knew in her heart and soul that she was demanding more than the sex, more than the physical love he was always so ready to give her. "Oh God, Styx, I don't know if I can bear it."
He pressed inside, parting her, stretching her. She felt so tight, too snug for the width of the shaft easing inside her.
"Sweet Storme." He hovered over her, one hand gripping her hip, the other hand pressing to the arm of the couch as he began working his cock slowly inside the clenched depths of her pussy.
Each shallow thrust worked him farther inside the burning depths of her pussy, as she felt the pleasure-pain of the muscles parting, stretching, accommodating the heated shaft as the bulging crest pulsed and throbbed inside her.
She could feel it. The flex of each pulse of blood thundering in his cock seemed to echo inside her overstretched flesh.
Her head tossed, her nails clawed at the upholstery of the couch arm as she pressed back, fighting to take more, to force him to take possession of her before she went insane for it.
"Ah lass, how sweet and hot ye are," he groaned, his lips at her ear as she whimpered in rising pleasure. "Feel how tight ye are, lass. How ye grip my dick, sucking it inside your sweet little pussy."
The clenching, uncontrollable tremors that shook her body seemed centered there in the muscles surrounding no more than a few inches of the thick flesh.
"Fuck me, Styx," she moaned in rising heat. "Oh God, please fuck me."
His hips jerked, and buried in deeper, his cock throbbed as though he were only seconds from ejaculation.
"Storme, love," he groaned harshly, his hips pulling back, the next thrust harder, inches deeper. "Ye surround my dick the way I want ye to take my heart," he whispered at her ear. "Take me, Storme. Trust me, love."
Her eyes closed tight as she fought back the tears that wanted to flood them. Dropping her head against the arm of the couch, she couldn't hold back the whimper, the desperate little cry that escaped her throat.
"Don't," she whispered, unable to remain silent. "Please, Styx. Please don't."
Don't ask for what she couldn't give. Don't make her choose. Don't make her betray herself before she could even figure out if that betrayal was for the best.
"Hell yes I will." His voice deepened as he pressed deeper, stronger inside her. He was taking her as though each thrust inside her, each burning impalement would somehow tie her closer to him.
And it did. She could feel it, though she couldn't understand it. Something had been tying them together from the start and she hadn't wanted to admit it.
Denying it was the only way to survive, the only way to hold on to her soul until she could navigate her way through the morass of emotions she could feel tearing her apart.
"I'll demand it." His teeth nipped at her ear as she thrust back to him, forcing him deeper as a white-hot shaft of pure sensation blazed inside her vagina.
Pleasure or pain. She didn't know which, she didn't care, as long as he didn't stop. As long as she didn't have to face anything but the pleasure, the pure sensation racing through her.
"You're mine!" The next thrust buried him to the hilt.
Storme screamed in agonizing pleasure.
Throwing her head back, she felt his teeth at her neck and didn't even give a damn. They scraped her flesh, sent shivers tearing down her spine, tremors racing through her pussy.
Inside her, his cock throbbed hard and heated for just a second before he began moving. Before he tore her mind from her body with a pleasure she couldn't fight, a pleasure that whipped through her like a living flame and pierced her feminine soul. Tore past her shields.
His hands moved over hers, his fingers lacing with hers as she gripped the couch arm. As his fingers curled beneath hers, she clenched on them, as her pussy tightened around his cock.
She couldn't control it. She couldn't fight it.
"Mine, Storme!" he snarled at her ear.
Her womb convulsed as a spear of burning sensation raced through the sensitive tissue and snug muscles.
She had never belonged to anyone. She had never accepted that responsibility. She had never allowed herself to believe it was something she could ever have.
Until now.
Until Styx.
Groaning, pressing his chest against her back, he buried deep inside her, thrusting, fucking her with hard, measured strokes as she felt the blazing need rushing higher and burning hotter.
So close. She could feel her orgasm tightening in her clit, in her womb.
"Tell me, Storme!" he demanded as he burned her, thrusting inside her with a strength and power that pulled a whimpering cry from her lips.
Shaking her head, she fought the demand. "No." The cry was weak, as weak as any resistance she could have put between them to begin with.
"Then let me tell you," he snarled as he nipped at her shoulder. "Mine, lass. My woman." Deep, hot, he thrust inside her again, a long, hard thrust that burned across ultrasensitive nerve endings and pulled a harsh cry from her lips. "I'll no' let you go. I'll no' let another tear you from me." His voice strengthened. "Damn you, I'll not let you tear yourself from me!"
She exploded.
A scream built in her throat as he fucked her harder, faster, sending her hurtling through a release that tore her from any hold reality might have had on her and threw her into a brilliant, sensation-searing orgasm she knew would bind her to him whether she wanted it or not.
She was only vaguely aware of his release spurting inside her. Burning jets of semen filled her as he bit her shoulder, his teeth holding her in place, a pure, primal growl echoing around her as the pleasure sent her imploding into herself and burning through the last of the barriers she had built to protect her soul.
CHAPTER 16
Storme left the cabin, forcing herself to keep her head high, her gaze searching the shadows that lengthened at the edge of the fluttering lights hanging from the trees.
The courtyard was huge. Nearly twenty cabins plus the community center surrounded it, with the long tables filled with food, while others were surrounded by chairs.
Heart racing, she moved across the courtyard with Styx, hiding her shaking hands and staring boldly at the curious gazes that focused on her.
"Several of the Breeds have hearing so acute they can actually hear the racing of your heart," Styx murmured in amusement. "They can smell the suspicion, but I'm certain they'll be pleased to know that before the suspicion was the fear."
"I'm terrified," she muttered back, and her lips almost twitched.
She was nervous, wary. These were Wolf Breeds, and mixed with them was a healthy number of Coyote Breeds. It was impossible to tell them apart, but it was the Coyotes that made her suspicious.
Changing a lifetime of beliefs and fears wasn't easy. She had avoided these little community get-togethers for the past weeks for a reason. She'd refused to socialize with the enemy, except Styx.
From that first night, the image of him ever being anything but her lover had refused to come to mind.
"It's different tonight," she stated as they began to move into the heavily populated area. "There are more Breeds here tonight."