Page 60 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

I’m beyond ready for him to be fucking me, but Reyes crouches over me instead, inhaling deeply as he runs the tip of his nose up one thigh. His hand stays on the bite mark like he’s playing me like an instrument, and I gasp when he moves the dress up so he can press a kiss to it. His lips on the scar feel right, and his tongue feels even better. Reyes tends to it carefully—to the extent where my pussy starts to feel neglected.

I don’t need to worry though. A moment later, and he gets distracted as he inhales again, nestling his nose in the curly hair between my legs.

“Hueles tan bien,” he murmurs. “Mi amor…”

His tongue flicks out to lap at my pussy, and I arch my back in the grass. I’m so overstimulated that I just want to be filled, and I tangle my fingers in his thick hair as he plunges his tongue inside me. “Reyes!” I gasp. “I’m…I’m going to come again and I want you inside?—”

He seems to be done using his words; he clamps his mouth over me and sucks on my clit like a man dying of thirst, letting out a growl as I pull hard on his hair. Another orgasm strikes fast and hard, rolling through me and lighting me on fire. I can’t contain the scream that tears its way out of me, but I don’t care who hears; I want everyone in the pack to know that I’m claiming this man, just as he’s claimed me.

His hands slide to the crooks of my knees as I ride out my orgasm, then he spreads me wide, positioning himself between my legs. He’s rough with himself as he pulls his cock out and rubs it between my folds, coating his shaft in the wetness now covering my thighs. I try to hook my legs around him, but he grunts and looks down at me, a strange, opalescent sheen in his amber eyes.

I can see every bit of restraint in his shaking shoulders as he grits his teeth, stroking his own knot. “I’m not going to knot you tonight,” he groans, but I think it’s more a reminder to himself than me.

“Knot me, mate,” I reply.

I’ll fight him on this until he’s buried in me.

I wrench out a pleasured sob when he presses into me, finally easing the ache between my legs. Reyes takes his time—somehow—sliding in slowly, filling me up.

He’s so big that I feel split apart in the best way, the bite mark on my hip urging me to take him deeper, deeper. I keep begging for him with my body, widening my legs further, hooking my feet behind his back and dragging him further.

“Knot me,” I beg.

“No,” he grits out.

I can feel his knot pressing against my entrance, and I’m certain I could take him. His bite mark surges with pleasure, with heat, rippling over the rest of my body and opening me up for him. “Knot?—”

He cuts me off when he pulls out again and then pounds into me, once again stopping at the knot. I groan and arch, clawing at his back through his shirt. My nails are blunt, but I feel they’ve somehow grown longer—and I’m certain of it when I realize I’ve torn right through his fancy button-up. I pant when he does it again, pulling out, driving back in.

His restraint is remarkable.

And it tells me that I don’t need to keep any of my own.

I keen and howl and sob as he pounds into me, his considerable girth more than enough to fill me up. Even so, I still feel that knot, want it, need it—but all my pleas for more just turn into gibberish on my lips.

The one time I do let it slip, he growls in a way that tells me he’s in charge here, and I lay back and let him ravish me.

The stars twinkle overhead, and his scent envelops me. Incense and red wine. I’m suddenly thirsty—parched, in fact—and when he leans in to kiss me, I catch his lower lip between my teeth. I taste copper as he pulls away with a growl, the two of us little more than animals.

If God wanted this, it’s not the God I grew up with. It’s something more primal—the God that gave us pieces that feel pleasure and placed us in a garden filled with temptation.

I need more. I need my mate.

I lick my lips and taste Reyes’ blood, sweet as port wine. In a beautiful subversion of ritual, surrounded by his incense scent, I eat and drink of his body and blood. I feast on my mate as I kiss him again, as I trail my lips down his neck, to his pulse. And with these strange new sharp fangs, an idea floats to the surface.

It only seems fair, doesn’t it?

To bite him, as he bit me?

Reyes bares his throat for me, and we pull away just enough to lock eyes. I can almost hear the steady thrum of his pulse, pounding with the thrust of his hips. He slows, his breath catches, and he nods his head.

“Do it.”

I tangle my fingers in his thick hair, and I sink my teeth into his flesh.

Red wine, complex and musky and fluid. A bouquet of flavor, my tongue lapping at the new wound. My teeth aren’t quite as sharp as his, but they’re shockingly sharp enough to leave a mark—just two little punctures where my canines have somehow elongated. Reyes groans and rolls his hips against me as I tend to the wound, never letting his knot sink inside me no matter how badly I want it to.

I don’t think this is a one time thing. I can feel that as I lick him.

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