Page 20 of Drowned By the Dreadnought

He yanks the broken panel off the hinges and tosses it deeper into the barren room before stalking toward me.

I fight through a barrage of emotion. Concern over his bare feet as he walks through the mess. Disbelief in his extreme solution. Joy over his understanding. Hope. Lust.

His monstrous cock defies gravity as he stalks toward me.

He envelopes me in his enormous arms and pulls me off the desk. My toes barely reach the ground before he pulls me up his body and stalks across the room. With my arms trapped inside my towel, I can’t catch my fall when he drops me onto the mattresses in the sleeping alcove. I squeak and bounce before his massive body covers mine.

“This is where you belong, Morwenna. Writhing underneath me. Now build a nest so I can rut you into oblivion and knot you for days. Gods, I can’t wait to mark this pretty little neck,” he groans against my throat.

Need curls my toes and blanks my mind. I wriggle to free my arms, but he licks a line up the sensitive column of my throat and stands. A whine leaks from my chest. He took his warmth with him. I want it back.

Emptiness plagues my insides. My core clamps on nothing. Pain rips through my body.

Rubbing my thighs together brings me no relief.

I need him.

He drops a stack of blankets onto me. The weight shocks me.

These are no threadbare sheets. The heft alone stuns me, but the different textures and thickness cast a spell around me.

Instincts take over, drowning out the worry lingering in the back of my mind, and I sink into peace as I let my body’s natural urges take over. I knead, sort, nuzzle, and choose the softest blanket to use as the base, but when I spread it over the mattresses, it seems all wrong.

I pull the fabric into my lap and hug it to my chest. None of the others have the right texture. This one must be the layer we lie on.

I clutch it tighter and trace the pretty designs with my fingertips.

“What’s wrong, little mouse?”

I startle at the deep, masculine voice and blush in embarrassment as I meet his eyes.

Conviction settles in my bones.

I forgot he was here because my omega self feels comfortable with him.

I pin the blanket to my chest with one arm before I crawl to the edge of the mattress and shove it up at him. He grunts in surprise and takes the quilt from me. When he doesn’t move, I growl, rise, and rub the fabric over his chest and abs with aggravated vigor. He chuckles and covers my hands with his.

“Okay, Morwenna. I get it. I’ll scent mark anything you want me to,” he promises.

I huff and turn to choose the next item, but his thick fingers wrap around my arm and stop me. A feral rumble escapes my chest.

He closes his mouth and releases me. I drop to the mattress and gather a quilt, two blankets, and a silky sheet. When I return to him, he looks at my outstretched hand skeptically before handing over the piece I intend to make the foundation of my most epic creation.

The moment he hands me the blanket, I know it still isn’t right. His quirked brow irks me to no end.

“What?” I snap.

“Are you sure that’s enough of my scent?”

The material radiates his body heat, but the smell isn’t right. He chuckles and leans down to lift my chin with his knuckle.

“You’re so fucking cute when you pout. Use me however you need, little mouse. Stroke my cock with the blanket and fill it with the scent you really crave,” he says in a deep, hypnotic voice.

I shiver and impatiently push his hand away from my face before draping the fabric over his cock and wrapping both hands around his thick girth. His low groan fills me with pride. I stroke him from base to tip before rearranging the blanket and repeating the movement.

A wet splotch grows. My mouth waters as his delicious male musk fills my nostrils. I can’t resist.

He snarls, grabs my hair, and yanks my head back.

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