Page 39 of The Wolf in My Tavern

“You feel so good,” I say. “Hot and tight. I’ll pull out before I come, lest I breed you. Don’t want your belly to swell with a babe and your tits to grow fat and full of milk, now do we?”

Her eyes are wide—glazed.

“Do you like the sound of that, Ada? Of me breeding you?”

She moans again.

“Maybe I won’t pull out. Maybe I’ll come inside you. What do you think about that?”

She sinks her teeth into my palm, and I don’t know what the fuck that means beyond we are both lost in a kind of frenzy. I start pounding into her pussy that I swore I wouldn’t take like this, that I would wait so I could prepare her for me and give her the comfort of a bed.

I have crossed a line, but her aroused perfume is wrapping around me, telling me to give her more, and she is taking everything, her pussy fluttering over me.

As I look down, I can see I am all the way inside, save for the swollen part. She is untried, a virgin. We both are…

Were.

As I thrust to the root, a haze falls over my world. What I do has changed us both.

A near-blinding surge of possessiveness rocks me.

Mine.

“Don’t come, Ada. If you come, I won’t be able to help myself, and I’ll be forced to fill your pussy all up with my cum. You need to hold it for me like a good girl. If you hold it, then I’ll pull my cock out, and I’ll come over your belly instead.”

Her eyes are hooded now, and her pussy is fluttering all over my thrusting length.

She is close. She’s going to cum. I know she is.

My thumb is merciless against her clit. I want her to come. Then it won’t be my fault when I fill her with my seed.

Her grunts and groans are muffled by my palm—my balls are tightening, ready to unload, but I’m fucking determined that I won’t break first.

Ada

If you’d asked me a week ago, I would have sworn Callum was the sweetest lad you could ever meet.

He is not sweet tonight. He is possessed by the devil himself. And, Goddess, if I am not helpless before him. My deepest, darkest fantasy has been brought to life in human flesh.

The stark lines of his face, his green eyes almost black, and his wild, tousled hair falling forward to frame his handsome face. His power as his hips and ass move to pound into me is a sensual revelation, one that keeps me hanging on the cusp of pleasure I know will destroy me and remake me into someone new.

He is inside me, filling me, making me whole. I did not know I was empty until he put his cock inside me.

My legs are spread wide to accommodate him as he moves over me with a powerful, almost savage, grace. The wooden floor is cold and hard beneath me, but I couldn’t care less.

He has kissed me intimately and put his fingers inside me, yet his cock is thicker and longer and touches places that have never been touched before. There was minimal discomfort when he first pushed deeply, just a faint pinching sensation that was lost in the next thrust when sweet, achy pleasure bloomed.

My legs curve around his waist. He is so much larger than me. But I wrap them around him as tightly as I can, encouraging him without words to go deeper, to fill me how I need.

I know what can happen. He has spoken of it bluntly about how I could get with child. We have not even talked about such things, yet I sense his intentions toward me are true, and he would not abandon me should I fall pregnant.

His breeding talk ought to scare me.

It does not.

The thought of his seed taking inside me, of a child growing, of him breeding me, makes me hot for him. I want to do this with him every night and every day. I want to be his.

We have not spoken about the future—we barely know one another, yet how much time does a person need?

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