Page 93 of The Weaver

Oh. Well, then…

She teasingly brushed her fingers back and forth across his lower abdomen. “Can I touch you some more?”

A tremor ran through him. His hand continued down, gliding over her ass. “You need never ask.”

Ahmya’s pussy clenched from his touch and the gravelly tone of his voice. As much as she yearned to guide his hand between her thighs again, to have him stroke her clit and alleviate that ever-growing ache, she wanted to discover what pleasure she could provide him more.

She pulled back, and Rekosh loosened his hold on her enough to allow her to meet his gaze. “Can you lie on your back for me?”

Rekosh’s mandibles rose, and a wicked gleam shone in his crimson eyes. “Will I need to draw silk bindings again?”

Excitement washed through her. “Hmm… No, not this time. Hold off as long as you can for me, and then, well…” She pressed a kiss to his mouth. “You can have me any way you want me.”

“Ah, mynyleea…” The warmth radiating from his body seemed to intensify before he withdrew his arms and rolled onto his back. He spread his arms out to the sides upon the fluffed silk. “I am yours, Ahmya. Touch me as you desire.”

Smiling, Ahmya pushed herself up onto her knees andlooked down at Rekosh. Daylight lit up their little haven, granting her full view of her mate. Him being sprawled out like this, with his six legs slightly bent on either side, only showcased how big he truly was. He stared at her, those wicked eyes aglow, mandibles raised in a smile, and his long braid lying on the silk beside him.

She trailed her gaze down his body to his groin. The bulge at his pelvis had grown, and his slit had parted further, revealing the glistening red flesh within. His claspers relaxed against his hide.

Ahmya lightly placed the tip of her middle finger on the edge of his slit and slowly traced it. She felt the flesh quiver, watched as it opened wider, heard the catch in Rekosh’s breathing. And then, he groaned low and deep as his long, thick cock extruded, its deep crimson beckoning her.

Settling one hand on the raised curve of his underbelly for support, she leaned closer.

Red should’ve been a warning. Red should’ve meant danger. But when it came to Rekosh, all she wanted to do was get closer. All she wanted was to touch.

She curled her fingers around his cock and stroked.

He shuddered and tipped his head back as he clenched fluffed silk in his fists. “Shaper, unmake me… Ah, female, do not stop.”

His plea sent a bolt of lust straight to her core.

Keeping a firm grip on his length, Ahmya pumped her hand up and down in a steady rhythm from the bulges at the base to the wide tip. His cock was hot and slippery with his oils, gliding against her palm, and it reminded her of how good it had felt as he’d thrust in and out of her pussy, of how the ridge of his thick head had massaged her inner walls in all the perfect places.

Rekosh tensed and arched his back. His cock twitched and pulsed, keeping its own rapid pace to match that of his thumping hearts. His spicy scent permeated her senses,growing stronger with each passing moment, intensifying the hollow ache in her core.

Ahmya watched him. Watched the way his body moved, the way he fought to restrain himself, watched the way he tried to keep his eyes upon her but was helpless as they drifted closed with pleasure.

He was beautiful, sensual, a creature as deadly as he was seductive.

And he was hers.

My monster. My mate.

She tightened her grip. His oils coated her palm and dripped over her hand. Her clit thrummed, and her core clenched with need. She squeezed her thighs together, but the pressure did nothing to help her discomfort. Even her soft silk dress was unbearable against her sensitive skin—it was restrictive and abrasive, almost painful as it rubbed against her hard nipples.

“I smell…your want,vi’keishi,” he rasped, opening his eyes to look at her.

Ahmya’s lips parted as she stared into his eyes.

God, did she want him. She’d never understood how desire could hurt, how it could make someone burn from within, but it was consuming her now.

Rekosh placed a clawed hand on her thigh and squeezed, letting her feel the pricks of his claws. “Is your pussy wet for me?”

“Yes,” Ahmya said breathlessly.

He growled and tugged on her dress. “Let me see you. Let me see my pretty mate.”

Ahmya didn’t hesitate. Releasing his cock, she raised her ass, gripped the hem of her dress, and tugged it up her body and over her head, eager to be rid of it. The drag of the fabric across her nipples sent a shiver through her.

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