Page 31 of The Commander

Kitten lay back and moaned as her body made demands for relief. Nerves humming with stress, she tried to deny herself to the last vestiges of her stubborn will.

It was too late. Her body required his and his alone.

Bastian waited.

“Why does it hurt? Did you do this? Please. Stop this. Please.”

He wouldn’t go forward until she gave him her full verbal consent. He would have it. It might end up as her nightmare, a demon’s bargain, as her kind would say, and he was her demon. “Kitten, only you can make it stop hurting. Only you. Say yes to me. Say, ‘yes, Bastian.’ Say what I want to hear, and I will make this discomfort go away.”

“Discomfort?” she gasped out, her fists pounding the floor in disbelief.

It was much more than discomfort. A mottled, raised blotchy pattern of hives appeared on her chest and belly, spreading up her throat to her jaw. The same, hot, angry red had already darkened into purple on her inner thighs, ass, and pussy.

Bastian’s own rash happened under his skin. A nasty, scraping, incessant scrawl, burning in every area where they’d made contact. “Let me make us feel better. Let me make it good.”

He started the ritual again, mouthing her swollen center. Bathing her pain in what she needed, more of his prime battler soaked DNA. The mating heat engorged the inner flesh of her slit to a gorgeously obscene violet, the peak of her clit bursting several times its normal size, infected with him. Licking each fold of her vulva, her taste sank deeper and deeper into his system.

The blood in his cock sizzled, the skin too tight to contain his want, pink pre-lubrication spurting from the tip.

He had to challenge her again. Words eluded him. He was in sensory overload, only able to think:she’s so soft.She’s so incredibly soft and sweet. He wanted to drink her up, nibble on her, suckle her, but if nothing changed, this was good. He would die here, a dried out husk, caught on the edge of repletion. They would both die if she didn’t concede and consent.

Tonguing her from end to end, he mercilessly returned to her clit, flicking the delicate hill to the edge of an orgasm, then pulling back to look at her—waiting until she opened her eyes.

Her body told him she’d never known a male. She had no experience strengthening her against what he offered her. It was new. Unexpected. He was proud she could fight him at all.

They were together in their firsts. “This is mine. I’m claiming this. I’m claiming you. Say, ‘yes, Bastian.’”

His woman let out a moan that he felt vibrate under his hands.

“Yes or no, Kitten.” His torments were not random. They were in cycles of ritual, keeping his own raging lust in check, the first stop in a bond that would tie them their entire lives. There would be no stopping and walking away if she refused him. Enjoying every methodical moment, he licked, strummed, and tasted in repetition, not once allowing her to fall over into the bliss she wanted.

“Fine. Yes. I’m dying. Okay. Just make it stop. Yes. Yes, Commander Bastian.”

“That’s right. This pussy is mine. You are mine,” he said against her plump mound, his teeth nicking skin.

The sting went unnoticed. She was too far gone. Her knees shaking, she grabbed at his head, trying to put his mouth deeper where she needed. Allowing it, Bastian refocused on the turgid peak and suckled until her ass clenched and her body twisted in his hands. Her head knocked against the floor, and she screamed, the sound surprised, changing quickly to chokingand throaty. He loved the honesty of it and sucked in a rhythm until he felt her whole body tighten into a bow before relaxing everywhere.

There would be no respite. Not now that he had her agreement. Permission for blood. Permission for body. He didn’t need permission to own her human soul.

The light infused liquid of her pleasure coated his whole face. He licked all of it up, not allowing her to relax, probing as deep as he could and wishing he could open his lower mouth and go deeper.

But it wasn’t time yet. She wasn’t ready yet. No. She needed his seed to be completely filled, fucked and mated so that there was no going back.

Bastian sat up. Had to take a breath. “One.” Breathe in, breathe out.

“No. Can’t.” She protested, her sweet, full mouth turning down. One knee fell to the side, exposing a dripping, eager sex. He didn’t know if she did it on purpose or if she was too drugged with pleasure and his scent to care.

“Two.” He continued to count, smoothing his hands over her body. Finding his control while he checked her for any injuries caused in their tussle that might make the next step difficult.

“Please.” the word escaped her through gritted teeth.

“Three.” Breath in. Breath out.

“What are you?” She was adorable in her confusion. But Bastian didn’t have the energy to focus on answers. He had to get to twenty so he could rut and satisfy them both.

She tried to sit up. He pinned her to the floor with one hand on the throat. “Four.”

Her eyes went wide. “You’re going to kill me now?”

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