Page 66 of Racing the Storm

Fuck.

“Mikael,” I tried to say, but it came out like a whine. I knew right then that if he hadn’t been with me, I’d have been lost to the heat delirium, but his hands on my bare skin were keeping me centered.

Still, the want was building, the slick at my entrance.

“Mikael,” I said again.

His teeth gnawed at the top of my shoulder as his hands pushed my pants down farther. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

I could smell him—thick with need. His knot wasn’t far, and he was close to a rut. I wanted it—by the gods, I wanted him to be mindless, filling me, fucking me, splitting me on his cock.

“Danyal, fuck fuck,” he gasped.

I hadn’t realized I was speaking aloud until my tongue caught on the edge of a fang. My desire—my need—sparked hotter, and I pressed my ass against his rock-hard dick tenting his sweats.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked.

I turned my head over my shoulder and grasped for my sanity. It was slipping, but I could come back still. With his hands, with his mouth on me, I wasn’t lost. “I want you.”

His eyes glowed brighter—the yellow almost illuminating the shadows beneath his lashes. “I want to bite you. Let me…please, let me…”

“Yes.” I had wanted it since France. I had wanted it before that. From his first knot, I had needed him, and there was so long to go, but there was no point in denying what he was to me.

Everything.

He moved quicker than I was able to follow, the heat making me sluggish. I succumbed to it, this feeling I thought long-dead. It rushed through my limbs, rippling on every breath as I crawled onto all fours and pushed my ass out.

I wasn’t sure I was forming words, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered were his hands on me, were the claws raking down my sides, his teeth along my shoulder in the promise of a bite that would link us together forever.

And it should have terrified me, but I wanted it with my entire soul.

Spreading my legs wider, I let out a begging whine, and he matched it with his own as his now-blunt fingertips grazed my hole. He pushed them in, my slick making a wet sound, and the pressure was good—but it wasn’t enough. None of it was enough.

“Mikael,” I tried to say. His name was a mess through thick tongue and dropped fang, but he seemed to understand me because his hand disappeared, and the head of his cock pressed against me.

I opened up on it, ready—willing, needy. He held me there though, just for a second, and I wondered if he was watching where his body was entering mine. I shuddered and pushed back, and that was all it took to spur him into action. He slammed forward, sending the bed crashing into the wall. The last coherent though I had was wondering if we’d bring the house down around us.

And then I was lost to him. I could hear his growling, feel it through my limbs, but the heat overwhelmed everything. Pleasure sparked through every atom of my body as I took him. My cock leaked a steady stream beneath me, and the drag of it along the bedspread was so good it was almost painful.

I wanted to beg for more, for harder, for all of him, but I couldn’t form words. I was lost to sensation, the feeling of my orgasm building and crashing and building and crashing.

And just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, I felt the pressure of his knot. It pushed at my rim, and the world spun.

“Danyal,” Mikael breathed, and I realized at some point he had lifted me up so my back was pressed to his chest. My thighs shook as I balanced over the swollen base of his dick. My hole began to stretch as gravity drew me down over it, and I felt his fangs touch me. “Be certain.”

I closed my eyes, and I could see the tendrils of the bond flickering to life again. They were stronger now though—stronger than the first heat, stronger than when we were in the cave. And with a single bite, the bond would last the rest of our lives.

“Need you,” I told him. “Want you.”

It was enough. Through the growing bond, I felt it—I felt him. I felt his own want and need mirroring mine. I felt his contentment, his satisfaction, his relief that I was there.

His knot slipped all the way inside, stretching me damn-near to the point of breaking. Then I tilted my neck, felt a swipe of his tongue, and then he sank his fangs in.

There were no words to describe what I felt. The bond flashed white-hot and all-consuming as it wrapped around us. His soul twisted around and through my own, and we became two halves of one being. Blood dribbled down my back in the same, pulsing heartbeat as I was coming—as he was coming. He filled me up and then kept going, and his knot throbbed along my rim until I thought I’d go mad from it.

I came to with Mikael’s hands gently petting me, his fangs gone, his tongue lapping at the blood spilled. That turned into kisses laid across my shoulders, my neck, my jaw. I was entirely helpless—boneless in his grasp as he eased us down to the side. His knot tugged, and I gave a small gasp, another pulse of come dribbling from my limp cock, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to move on my own again.

My eyes were closed, and I watched the faint orange glow behind my lids as I basked in Mikael’s hold.

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