Page 38 of Scorched By Fate

“More,” I begged.

Vyne’s snarl vibrated through me as he fell to his knees, and his tongue—fuck, that endless, wanton tongue and the metal nub within it—speared against me. He inhaled sharply, wings flaring, nose buried in the slick heat between my legs.

“Hot,” he growled, the word mangled by fangs. Claws pricked my waist, blunt tips threatening bruises. “You burn.”

I couldn't think beyond the feelings. His tongue flattened against me in one all-consuming swipe.

Lightning.

My spine arched, a shattered scream tearing free. He growled—possessive, feral—and continued the motion. Again. Again. The wet slap of muscle on flesh echoed off stone, rhythm syncopated by my ragged gasps.

“Fuck—Vyne?—!”

He jerked, a sound like splitting stone erupting from his chest. The tail and tongue at my core stroked harder, ridges snagging swollen flesh. I came apart with a choked wail, thighs squeezing against him as reality splintered into shards.

He didn’t relent.

The coil snapped again before I could breathe, his tongue now devoting obscene focus to my nerves. My nails found the membranous gap between his wing joints, gripping delicate tissue.

“Again.” The command left his throat raw.

I broke—body bowed, vision going white. The orgasm ripped through me, wringing a sob from my chest. Vyne finally withdrew, chin glistening, eyes void-black pits.

The fleshy hood of his cock twitched, weeping indecent pre-cum.

Where had his pants gone? I didn't care.

I stared at the scaled monster, vein-like ridges pulsing under strained flesh. Before fear could take root, I took hold of the base.

This was new. Something both alien and … intimate. Not just his touch, but seeing him so completely unleashed, so vulnerable. With the fear came a heady rush of power and ownership.

He froze.

The strange tip curled toward my grip, the alien appendage brushing my knuckles. Velvet-soft. Alive. Madness overrode survival instinct. He'd tasted me. Turnabout was only fair.

Vyne recoiled. “No.” The denial strangled itself. He tried pulling back, but I tightened my hold, thumb smearing slick across the slit. His tail spasmed around my thigh. “Can't be … gentle,” he rasped, jaw clenched hard enough to fracture. "Need you."

"Then fucking take me.”

He hissed, claws raking across rock above my skull. Then he grabbed only my hips and hooked one of my legs around him.

The first thrust shattered me.

He buried himself to the hilt, the alien girth of him stretching in ways no human anatomy allowed. I gasped out his name, nailstracing the scales between his wings. His cock pulsed—a living thing, veined shaft throbbing in me.

“Fuck—!”

He didn’t withdraw. Didn’t move. Just hovered, trembling, tail coiled around my thigh like a steel cable.

“Zhyvarin.” That word, that special name for me, sounded like a prayer in his throat. Damnation. Worship.

I answered by driving my heel into the back of his knee. “Please.”

He growled and dragged out slowly. Agonizing. The scaled base of his shaft stroked against my sex, each ridge striking sparks. His cock’s swollen lip peeled away with a lewd pop, leaving the sensitized flesh throbbing.

“Need … you …” His claws cratered the ledge above my head.

“Try.” I locked my ankles at the small of his back, yanking him home.

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