Page 16 of The Blacksmith in My Tavern: Tales of Bleakness

Tomorrow is for regrets. Tonight, there is only him.

I tell myself that this is the opening I have been waiting for, one that will lead to a deeper understanding between us. And although it breaks me, for I sense the lie, I cling to it anyway.

I rise onto my knees, uncaring that they dig into the hard wooden bench. I don’t care about anything but getting him inside me and where I know it will feel so good. I close my hand around his length, lift up, and put him where I need. Then I sink slowly, feeling the stretch as he fills me all up until his flesh is one with mine, and I feel him in my very soul.

A sob breaks from my chest. My inner walls clamp and flutter around him.

He tightens his arms around me. “Hush, sweet lass,” he says. “Am I hurting you? Do you need to stop?”

I curse the stupid male. “You are not hurting me. Do not dare stop. I swear I will liberate you of your balls if you try to take my prize away.”

He chuckles, a low husky sound, and I love that I am the one who caused it.

“It feels a blissful level of good to have you inside me. It will feel better if you loosen your hold enough so I can move.”

“Aye,” he says gruffly. His hands are shaking where they hold me. But mine are, too, where they are wrapped around his neck.

His lips find the crook of my shoulder and throat—his beard tickles.

“You feel fucking amazing,” he says before his voice lowers to a whisper. “You feel like home.”

A tear trickles down my cheek. I brush it away before he can notice.

I want to believe this means as much to him as it does to me. This is not just a quick tumble. Not in my eyes, anyway.

He clasps his arm tighter around me and slowly lifts me up and then down.

“Oh Goddess,” I say. My pussy grips him so tightly that it is a toss between pleasure and pain. He has a beautiful, thick, cock and it feels like he touches me everywhere. “I’m going to come.”

“Go ahead, lass. I’m going to be right behind you.”

He thrusts me off and on him, lifting me as though I’m naught but a doll and not a hale beta woman with ample curves. He takes me with ease, making our flesh slap together, and my breasts bounce. Sparks of pleasure shoot all the way through my core.

“Gods, you are so beautiful,” he says thickly. “Beautiful and lusty with a hot, tight pussy that is greedy for my cock.”

He speaks true, my pussy is greedy for him.

I am on top. I should be the one taking command. Only he doesn’t give me a chance, and I love it. His immense strength is evidenced by the way he slams me on and off his cock.

The emotions and sensations swirl together. I am a vessel for his lust. One taking pleasure for herself. One claiming her dues. I love this man. I have loved him for a long time. A young girl’s infatuation that has become so much more. I even love that he resists me, for in his eyes, he is noble and trying to protect both our hearts.

But my heart is my own, and I have already given it to him gladly and without reservations.

I give it with gratitude, for there was a time when I was taken prisoner when I might have been ripped from my loving home and life and my freedom gone.

His teeth scrape lightly against my throat. The quickening sensation inside tells me he is close, sparking a new thrill.

I want him to come inside me. I would give everything to carry his child within me.

How I want him to feel all I do.

A climax so powerful it robs me of breath slams into me. My pussy falls into sweet, heavenly waves. He growls and stills, whispering words I cannot quite hear against my throat.

I swear I feel his essence join with mine as his hot seed fills me all up.

Our gusty breaths make a cloud in the air. Sweat cools against the surface of my skin.

He lifts his head from my throat and cups my cheek. And then he kisses me. And as if I am not already utterly smitten with him, that sweet, hot kiss brimming with emotion and poignancy is my utter undoing.

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