Page 26 of Corrupted Tyrant

After striding to the bed, I pick her up, pressing her naked body to me. I’m undressed from the waist up. My jeans may just be the only thing keeping me tethered to my sanity.

She needs no prompting to circle my waist with her thighs.

“Fuck!” we say in unison. Her wet heat against my belly is so arousing I can barely think for a moment. Then I remember. I want her against the wall.

I press her there with a dull thud, giving her enough leverage to press against me with little effort. It’s in this position that I devour her mouth.

This isn’t like our last kiss, with my tender explorations and sweet brushes of lips on lips. This is feral, primitive. My tongue lunges inside her without waiting for permission. I don’t feel bad about barging in, though. She’s so eager, her tongue meets mine thrust for thrust, parry for parry as we attack each other.

There’s a faint hint of sweetness in her taste, but I’m too distracted to pay more than passing attention to it. It’s her eager moans, her frenzied grinding against me as she clutches my pelt, unwilling to let me pull away long enough to grab a deep breath.

With one hand cradling the back of her head, protecting me from pressing her too hard against the wall, I keep her feet off the floor with my forearm supporting her ass.

“I need you. In me.” She’s biting my lower lip, sucking it into her mouth, writhing against me like a madwoman. I’m the one with the wolf-like characteristics. Why is she the one who’s bordering on feral?

“Don’t want that, Courage? Let me suck you, then.”

It’s this request that clears the fog from my head. Is this woman begging? Does she think I don’t want her? I need to tell her—no, I need to show her—that’s the farthest thing from the truth.

I nip down the length of her neck, drawing shocked gasps, then soothe the path with my tongue. On my next pass, I use the tips of my fangs. Even if she wasn’t panting like an animal, moaning as though she might be in pain, I’d know how deeply this affects her by her arousal scent spiking, filling the air with her need.

In two short steps, I dance her away from the wall and settle her on the bed. This is the first time I’ve allowed myself to drink her in.

“Fucking beautiful.” My claws spring out and it’s all I can do to stand in one place and not pounce on her. “Candy… perfect.”

“Pants off!”

“Yours stay off. Mine stay on.” I marvel at my ability to put words into sentences. “I’m going to lap you up, rock star. I’m not going to stop until I’ve made you come at least once and my face is covered in your cream.”

“All talk and no action, wolven.”

With a pouty scold like that, why would I hold myself back for another second? I lunge toward her, scooping my arms under her thighs, splitting her wide, and landing with my tongue in her core. She shrieks in shock—and perhaps a bit of appreciation—then combs her fingers through my hair and hangs on for dear life.

Fuck! She tastes like… I don’t have words. Instead of busying my mind trying to figure it out, I focus on her pleasure. I’ve never been with a human before. She’s so deliciously pink. And wet, a liquid invitation.

My senses are overwhelmed by her scent, her taste, her warmth. Every part of me wants to devour her, to claim her, to make her mine.

But I hold back, reminding myself of how fragile her beautiful body is. The tip of my tongue traces every curve and crevice as I savor each moan and gasp. She responds eagerly, her body writhing and arching under my touch. I can feel her desire building, matching my own.

Taking care not to hurt her with my fangs, I suck and tug on her lips, then zero in on her little clit. When I suck the entire area into my mouth, she squeals in pleasure, grips my hair at the roots, and presses me tighter against her.

She’s ramping up, so expressive, so eager for my touch. Her pelvis bucks up into me as she whispers “harder.” Who am I to disobey? I press with more vigor, flick faster, and when her thighs press against my ears, quivering, I slide a thick, sheathed finger inside her.

Her orgasm explodes. It must feel like fireworks inside her because she’s moaning, shaking, saying syllables I can’t understand as her inner walls clamp around me. When I add a second finger, her voice lowers an octave, then she whimpers like a little girl.

I follow her lead, slowing as her thighs relax, and only stopping when her knees hit the mattress and her fingers release my hair.

“C’rage.”

She was panting so hard her mouth is too dry to talk. I grab a bottled water off the bedside table and support her back while she guzzles half of it.

She turns on her side, throws her arm around me, and crushes me in her embrace.

“That was… otherworldly.”

What male wouldn’t be proud to receive that type of reception, but it’s nothing compared to the expression on her face. It’s wonder and affection. Her eyes are shimmering with emotion. We share something so deep in this moment of unspoken connection that it promises something profound. Just as quickly, Candy tucks her face against my neck.

She breathes in, but I realize that’s a clever ruse. She’s not in that position to memorize my scent. My female is hiding from me.

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