Page 33 of Held

Like a toy, Briar thought, dazed. Her mouth hung open in shocked pleasure, noises jolting out of her that she’d never heard herself make. She clung to his arms, her head falling back against his chest as he lifted her, dragging her back down and spearing her deeper and deeper.

We might really do it,she thought, feeling the tip of that fourth and final ridge bump against her entrance.

“Sofull,” Wick slurred. “So full of me.Look.”

He hooked his chin over her head, staring down. Briar followed his gaze and cried out at the sight; every time he thrust inside, a bulge appeared in her stomach.

Briar gaped. She felt sofull. And now she finally looked at it, her belly stretching with each thrust.

Wick growled desperately. His hot breath clouded over her hair, coming in hot gusts with every thrust. His thrusts stuttered, his noises getting louder.

The final ridge met her entrance again. Briar wriggled uselessly in his grip, straining to get it inside her on the downstroke.

“Please,” she heard herself say. “Gods,pleasegive it to me. Give me all of it.”

Wick roared. The noise echoed around the clearing, making birds take off from trees. Briar barely noticed. He was so impossibly huge inside her, her clit throbbing with every thrust.

“Yes,” Briar groaned as Wick bounced her deeper. “Yes, just like?—”

Wick’s huge hand slapped over her mouth. He stilled with it, leaving Briar to whine and struggle against his iron hold.

Wick shushed her. It took Briar an embarrassingly long moment to realize his head was cocked. Listening.

She stilled along with him, trembling with effort. He was still inside her, that fourth ridge seated right against her entrance.

At first, there was nothing. Then the low murmur of voices. A man’s voice echoed near the clearing:

“What in the void was that?”

Ten

Wick’s first reaction was deep, unstoppable dread.

I am going to kill them, he thought, horror creeping in around the blinding lust.They will attack, and I will kill them all, and then Briar?—

The thought came to an abrupt halt as his arm brushed the necklace around Briar’s neck. It had activated during their mating, as it always did. Keeping the blood frenzy away.

The relief was short-lived. The mortals were coming closer.

“Shit,” Briar whispered.

Wick grunted in agreement and stood. Briar’s breath hitched, her hands tightening around his arms as he shifted inside her.

Wick carried her behind a wide tree trunk and pressed her against it, hiding her from the clearing. If they were quiet enough, surely the mortals would walk by without incident.

There were three men. He could smell them, stinking of dirt and sweat and fresh pig meat. They were coming back from a hunt.

“Over here,” the first one called, old and croaky.

Briar’s cheek twisted against the bark to look at him.

“Keep going,” she whispered. “Just be quiet.”

Her hole spasmed around him, and Wick held back a groan.

A small part of Wick warned him that this was a bad idea. The men were almost on them. But Briar’s hips were working, trying to get him deeper. He’d almost fit his last ridge inside her. They were soclose.

“Come on,” Briar whispered pleadingly. “I need it.”

---