Page 20 of Bonded Beyond Trickery

When the tip of my cock slides down and notches at her entrance, I start to push inside. When she widens her legs and gasps, I strike, sucking her nipple into my mouth and biting down hard enough to be on this side of pain.

As my mate’s walls stretch around me, she’s so tight and wet that it’s difficult to keep my eye contact with her. But I refuse to lose this connection. It’s everything.

The long, low moan that comes from the depth of my mate as she writhes underneath me when I’m fully seated deep inside of her, threatens to shred my control. I have to clench my jaw to stop myself from pulling out and slamming home again. How I hold off, I’ll never know, but I’ll walk through fire to give my mate what she needs and right now she needs to adjust to my size.

Tilly’s hands wrap around my neck before she digs her nails in. It’s an urging, a feral manifestation of her need. But I don’t cave.

“Please,” she mewls, the sound making my cock throb, “Whit, I need you to move. The tingles,” she gasps.

“I know,” I growl, the words more wolf than man.

And I do fucking know. Everywhere our skin touches feels like stardust. It’s pure effervescence. It’s a fucking miracle.

I slowly drag my hips back, loving the way her pussy begs for me to never leave, to never pull out, to always be buried deep. When only the head of my cock is lodged inside of my mate’s pussy, I pause. Not because I want to.

No, I have to.

The pleasure is almost too much. It wraps around me and begs to be celebrated, to be fulfilled, to be echoed like a howl in a canyon.

With a punch of my hips, I bury with one, hard thrust. Tilly lets out a shriek of pleasure as her back arches. Something snaps. My control? Hers?

Whatever it is, the walls between us, built by time and secrets, collapse. It’s only us now. And our wolves.

It feels like the mate bond shimmers between us.

Our bodies move together as I drive into her, over and over, and she moves her hips to meet my thrusts and spur me on. As if I need the encouragement.

“Fuck,” I groan, “you feel so fucking good, little wolf.”

Tilly hisses, “Yes. More. Please.”

Because I will give my mate what she wants and needs, always, I move faster and thrust harder. We climb together, closer, closer, closer, to the edge.

It feels dangerous. It feels primal.

As our hearts beat in synch and the bond wraps around us, an ache starts in my gums and my canines elongate. My wolf demands. From the look in her eyes, Tilly’s wolf is doing the same.

“Mark me,” there’s a command in her voice tempered by the pure fucking desire mixed with love shining in her eyes.

My soul matches hers. It has since the dawn of time, and it will continue to do so until we are nothing more than stardust dancing around the moon.

As my balls draw up and my body tingles—my mate’s touch heightening the sensation—I bury my face in Tilly’s neck. Her pulse is drumming a beat against my lips, and I lave it with my tongue. She tilts her head, giving me her trust with a submissive vulnerability that I’ll never squander.

We teeter on the edge together and then Tilly is falling over.

“Bite,” she keens as her walls flutter around my length and her body is filled with the pleasure of her orgasm.

My teeth sink into her marking spot, the taste of her blood coating my tongue and making me move harder and faster, wanting all of her pleasure. All of it.

Just when I think it can’t feel any better, that nothing ever could, Tilly buries her teeth into my marking spot.

Everything goes white as rope after rope of my cum fills the depths of my mate’s pussy. The world blurs and tunnels. The only thing that matters is this. Her.

My mate.

The other half of my soul.

Letting her go is no longer an option. It never really was.

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