Page 37 of Corrupted Tyrant

I think I might have shocked him, but I swallow his gasp and spear my tongue into his mouth again. He’s driven me insane. This crazy situation has made me wild. I’ve wanted him forever. Needed him. Him and his damn refusals to make love to me. He’s so fucking honorable he doesn’t want to take advantage of the woman he’s being paid to protect? Well, fuck that.

“I need this, Courage.”

He hasn’t protested… yet. But I don’t want him to. I don’t want to stop, so I forge ahead, pawing at the hem of his tee and ripping it over his head. It catches on one of his fangs, the sound of tearing fabric rending the quiet. It does something to me, cutting me to the quick. Knowing that my male has fangs and claws and a bushy tail, that he could rip me to shreds, but that all he wants to do is reassure me over and over again. It fills my soul.

“If I don’t taste you in the next minute, I’ll lose my mind. Pants!” I command, as though the denim itself is my mortal enemy.

For once, my male doesn’t argue, doesn’t ask if I’m sure, doesn’t remind me that we shouldn’t do this. He twists and lifts me with one hand as he yanks his pants down with the other until he’s naked and so fucking beautiful a strangled sound escapes my mouth.

“Banquet.” I wanted to say a sentence, but just that one word came out because I’m struck dumb. My mouth is dry and I’m so filled with want I can’t think straight.

Where do I start? That thick brown pelt on his shoulders that feels like velvet? The rippling mass of muscle that is his stomach? Come on, Candy, don’t be a dunce. Look at that male’s cock!

It’s thick and veiny, so tall it passes his navel, and a deep copper, darker than the rest of his tan skin. It’s pulsing so profusely that pearly drops of cum are pooling in his little slit and sliding slowly down his shaft.

“You’ve been stingy, wolven.” I trail my palm up his thigh, waiting to savor the moment when I grip that thing of beauty. “I might never forgive you for that.”

“Take what you want, human.” His voice is so deep, so full of grit and gravel, it barely sounds like him.

Is he the one in this room with the wolven DNA? Because I’m the one who’s feral.

As I scoot back, I break the land speed record ripping my clothes off and then I settle between his outspread thighs. Then I jackknife at the waist so I can swallow as much of him as I can manage in one lithe movement. He grunts, thrusting into me as though no power on Earth could control his hips.

I bob on his shaft, spreading my saliva to make the task easier with each pass. I catch his taste on my tongue—tangy, salty, masculine. Even though I know my mouth must feel like heaven to him as I take him deep, I selfishly pause at his head and flick the tip of my tongue in his little slit to mine for more of his cum.

I pump the base of his cock, which nestles in a thick ring of flesh, and am rewarded with a few more beads of his fluid. Capturing his gaze with mine, I smile as best I can with my lips wrapped around the head of his cock and then ease down his length, my gaze never leaving his until he hits the back of my throat.

“Fuck! Candy!”

I purr, hoping it makes my throat vibrate for him. When his fingertips grip my shoulders more tightly, I imagine I’ve succeeded.

I’m desperate. Dripping for him. My hardened nipples are needy. Maybe he can read my mind, because he cups my breasts in his palms, holding their weight for a moment, and then he plucks my tight buds in unison.

Sucking him harder, I can barely think. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember that if he comes down my throat he won’t be able to spear into me, and isn’t that what I’ve been dying for these past weeks?

But I can’t stop. This feels too good. He tastes too good. This power I have over such a dominant male is something I don’t want to relinquish.

When he flips us over and takes control, I can’t stay unhappy for long. His knees are between my thighs, his dripping cock nestled along my slick slit. He pauses, piercing me with an eloquent gaze.

“Yes?” he husks.

I’m sure he’s trying not to move, to keep still so I can think, but his hips are pulsing, the head of his cock presses at my entrance as if asking permission.

“Yes, Courage.”

He breeches me. Just the head. Does he know how magical this feels? The perfect moment of feeling him press inside me.

“Ohhh.” It’s perfect, sublime as he works me, his huge cock opening me up. He’s thick and long and the painful stretch makes this moment better—momentous. I closed my eyes for a long moment as I urged my body to allow him in, now our gazes are locked again.

“Mae adme rosh.” His voice is husky, his expression soft and filled with affection.

I suck in through my teeth as I translate the words to my liking. I love you. In my imagination, that’s what he’s saying, so I pierce him with my gaze and repeat it back to him. “Mae adme rosh.”

His blue eyes flare wide, his mouth opens to display those dangerous teeth, and he leans his head back and howls.

Then he’s pounding into me, his hips pistoning as deep grunts escape his throat every time he bottoms out inside me.

He changes his position, leaning low over me so he grinds my clit on every entry and exit, his hips bucking with such force that it takes my breath away, ratcheting my arousal.

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