Page 78 of Shadowlands Omega

He’s waiting, but I can tell I’ve exhausted the limits of my power. I cannot make him wait long. I point, almost frantically, at the lone pillow on the bed. “Get on the bed. Lie down.”

With a rough grunt, he tosses himself onto his back, torso slightly lifted as he watches me slide to my feet on the floor. The dress I wear beneath my now-missing corset and over my now-torn pantaloons pools at my feet, leaving me naked to prowl over him on the bed. I go to his feet and slowly unlace his boots. The lantern light in the room is brighter than it ought to be, so he can see every inch of me. His gaze lingers over my hands, shaking with desire. His chest is rising and falling in waves. His fangs are poking out to press against his bottom lip and he is tantalizingly stroking each sharpened tip with his tongue.

I toss one boot aside, and then the next, and then I crawl up onto the bed between his legs and sit back, reaching for his belt. I undo it slowly, struggling the first time with the latch. His cock springs free, thick and proud, while his knot bulges at its base when I drag his trousers down over his hips. His knot…it makes my mouth water and the rest of me feel a little apprehensive. It looks a lot thicker than it should, like it’s already partially inflated. Thick and ridged and forming all the way around the base of his erection, it looks like he’s smuggling marbles. His erection is smooth and hot, radiating heat that draws me forward. Its impressive length is only topped by the fact that it’s thick and veined and straining, the blood-red tip all but begging for me.

“If you don’t touch it soon, I cannot be responsible for what happens next.” His voice is wobbly, almost frightened.

I nod, understanding, feeling panicked myself. “Are you mine, my Lord?”

“Yes.”

I slide my hands up his thighs, inching them higher and higher in tandem. Feeling his skin, rough and sprinkled with black hairs, is electrifying. “Tell me. Tell me who you belong to.”

“My Lady Kiandah. I’m yours. Now please.” He licks his lips, breathless. “Please, Kiandah.”

“Hold onto the headboard.” Calling it that is a bit of a stretch considering that I’m fairly certain it’s not attached to the bed, but simply propped up behind the bed and leaning against the wall. The wood is rough and scratchy, but he’s a good boy and lifts his arms above his head, revealing the smooth undersides of his biceps. I lean up even further, planting my hands on either side of his ribs. I scratch my nails down his rib cage, from his pecs all the way down to his hips.

I lean over him and lick a line up from his belly button to his sternum, tasting his masculine flavor. He hisses. His thighs stiffen, the muscles beneath them harder than stone. Moving up the bed, I flatten myself to him, my elbows coming down onto the flat, scratchy pillow. My forearms frame his face. He feels so huge beneath me, my knees coming down onto the bed on either side of his ribs, where my hands just were. My pussy is spread open, the cool air splashing against my dripping core, wet with so much slick. I drag it over his stomach at the same time that my lips light down onto his.

He moans into my mouth, his tongue diving past the barrier of my teeth, invading my heat. I feel the strong weight of his hand on the back of my head, the pressure on my lips bruising. Another hand comes around my waist, his nails digging into my bare skin. I can feel the prick of his claws. I should push him away…he’s breaking rules, and I had a whole plan to have him in my mouth and to ride him to the morning…but I feel awash with a sudden surge of heat and energy and I feel my own hands tighten on his hair and neck.

I scratch him across his chest. His fingers on my waist inch across my back, over the curve of my ass. He presses at my rosebud testingly before shoving his middle finger inside of my tightest hole up to the second knuckle with no warning and no lubrication. I arch up and gasp, but his hands are uncompromising. He pulls me back down to his mouth and I know that I made a mistake. I waited too long, tried to take too much. I’m overwhelmed, outmatched.

My eyes flutter closed. I cannot open them. I feel my heart pounding against his chest. I feel my armor crack and my castle crumble. I attack his lips with mine, fighting for dominance and then I simply pull back and hand it over. “Do it,” I whisper in needy breaths. I kiss his bottom lip while his finger pulls free of my ass.

“What?” he says, his voice shaking. I feel…too many things at the sound of that tenuous control. He sounds so young. Like a young man touching a woman for the very first time.

I moan and brush his cheek with my cheek. “Anything. Whatever you want, Yaron. Let me be yours, as you are mine. If only for the night.” Because tomorrow, I’m taking this control back.

He grabs the underside of my jaw abruptly, his fingers digging into my cheekhard.At the same time, his other hand circles underneath my thigh and his thick fingers spear my pussy. I gasp and his fingers on my jaw tighten, forcing my mouth to open even more.

“Don’t you dare,” he hisses. “Don’t make me a time-bound offer. I want it all and I want it forever.” I made another mistake. He’s made another misinterpretation of what I’ve said. He thinks I mean to deny him tomorrow? It’s an almost laughable thought given that I haven’t been able to deny him to now.

He sits up slightly and hespitsinto my open mouth when I open it to correct him. Gawking, I’m too stunned at what he’s just done to speak — and then I can’t when he slides one of his hands over my mouth while his other drops down slightly to my throat, which he squeezes, forcing me to swallow.

“Do I have you for the night?” he says, his eyes narrowed and gleaming like moonstone. There is no grey to be seen.

I nod vigorously.

“Do I have you for the nightonly?”

I shake my head, a little scared. He seems lethal. Like he’ll do something drastic if he doesn’t get what he wants. He licks his lips. My gaze drops to them. My fingernails curl into his chest, hoping to cause pain. Like he’s causing me pain. “Tell me I have you forever.”

I’m breathing hard, panting. What he’s asking me is so monumental. Too much. To say yes, now, like this… But I can’t say no. Because I don’t want to. Not now, and certainly not under the light of the red moon. I know that Cyprus worries that Yaron’s not good enough — that he might not begoodat all — but there’s that word again that makes me feel so small…deserving. Am I enough?

I can’t speak to ask him any of these things or to say anything to him at all. All I can do is nod and stare into his eyes, meaning it. His hand is still over my mouth until he exhales so violently against my cheek, his whole body shudders. “Thank the gods.” He wrenches me down beneath him, removing his hands from my face, his touch becoming violent. He grabs my hips and pistons his own to meet mine, impaling me on his length in one clean movement.

I scream. It’s a warbling, unattractive sound that seems to bring Yaron to the point of breaking. His back arches and he closes his eyes…and then he moans deep and from the belly as his hips start to pump more rhythmically. His shaft moves clean in and out of me on every stroke and the sensations…my gods…his knot slamming against my entrance…it’s…mygods.

He doesn’t stop fucking me. He doesn’t stop kissing me. He drinks from my lips like a drowning man. My hands scramble for purchase on his sweaty back, against which I feel the thin threads of too many scars. I carefully withdraw my touch from his healing back, holding his neck and his arms while emotion rises up within me so brilliantly.

“Yaron,” I moan, eyes getting misty.

He starts to slow, his eyebrows knitting. “Am I hurting you?”

“No…gods no…please…I just…I feel for you…”

It’s not what I mean to say, but he seems to know what I mean because he nods, and when he picks up speed again, his motions are more deliberate. “I feel for you, too, Kiandah…”

---