Page 74 of Rok's Captive
His hands tighten on my thighs, pinning me in place as I try to squirm away from the intensity. But it’s clear he’s not stopping, not slowing down, not until he’s had his fill. My fingers find his hair, trying to anchor myself as he unleashes his hunger against me, his tongue relentless, his growls vibrating through my core.
There’s nothing gentle in the way he claims me. This is pure, raw need—a barbarian feasting after famine, caring only for his own savage pleasure in the taking. Yet somehow, impossibly, it’s exactly what my body craves. Each ruthless stroke of his tongue sends me higher, each possessive grip of his hands makes me wetter, each rumbling growl against my sensitive flesh pushes me closer to the edge.
“Yes—there—don’t stop?—”
My pleas turn to mindless sounds as he finds the perfect rhythm, the perfect pressure. And I’m helpless.
My body trembles beneath him, tension building to an almost unbearable peak. His hands grip my thighs with bruising force, holding me open, keeping me exactly where he wants me as I come apart under his lips. The moment it happens, it’s like the sun explodes. The glow under Rok’s skin is blinding, the growls against my pussy like a crazed animal. I try to close my legs as the sensation becomes too much, but he snarls against me, the vibration only heightening my pleasure as he forces them wider.
Through the haze of my own ecstasy, I feel the tremors running through him, see the intensity of his glow pulsing brighter with each sound I make, sense the way his muscles bunch and flex with his own rising need. Is he…is he getting pleasure from consuming mine? His body responding to my surrender without being touched?
It’s that realization that pushes me over the edge. I shatter with his name on my lips, my body convulsing in waves of pleasure that crash over me like a tsunami, my vision narrowing to pinpoints of golden light. Even as I peak, he doesn’t relent, driving me higher, extending my climax until I’m sobbing with the intensity of it, my hands pushing at his shoulders, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation.
And then he stops.
Abruptly.
The absence of his touch is a shock to my system. My body collapses back against the cool stone, trembling, my breaths coming in ragged gasps as the echoes of my release ripple through me. I feel wrecked—utterly, completely wrecked. My skin burns, my limbs shake, my heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat.
But before I can even process what’s happening to me, before I can catch my breath, I feel the shift in him.
It’s immediate. Violent.
I lift my head, my still-blurry vision locking onto him, and what I see sends a jolt of fear straight through me.
Rok is on his knees, his body hunched, his claws digging into the stone beneath him. His glow is wild—erratic—flickering in sharp bursts that cast jagged shadows across the chamber walls. His breaths come in harsh, guttural snarls, and when he lifts his head to look at me, his eyes are…
Wrong.
The brilliant gold I’ve come to know is gone, swallowed by black, his pupils blown so wide they look endless. His lips curl back, revealing those sharp fangs, and a sound rumbles out of him—a growl low and guttural, but layered with something else.
Pain.
His growl deepens, reverberating through me, but something about it changes. It’s not just hunger or need—it’s…strained. Like he’s holding himself back. Then he freezes. His head lifts, his gaze locking on mine, and for a moment, he looks almost…terrified.
“Rok?” I breathe, reaching for him, but he jerks back, his entire body trembling. Whatever’s happening to him, it’s too much. Too overwhelming. And I’m not sure if it’s me he’s trying to protect—or himself.
“Rok?”
He doesn’t respond. Or maybe he can’t. His gaze locks on me, piercing through me, and the intensity in it makes my breath hitch.
And then it hits me.
DidIdo this?
My chest tightens, my mind racing as I take in the way he trembles, the way his claws flex and scrape against the stone. Did I hurt him somehow? I look down at myself, to the wetness still coating the inside of my thighs…
I’ve heard of people being allergic to semen, but never… Oh shit.
“Rok…” My voice cracks.
He doesn’t move, his entire body taut and shaking with tension, his claws curling deeper into the stone. His glow pulses erratically, brighter and brighter, until it’s almost blinding.
And that’s when I feel it.
The heat.
It starts low in my belly, a strange, simmering warmth that spreads outward, seeping into my veins like molten fire. At first, I think it’s just the aftereffects of what he did to me—my body still reeling from the intensity of it all. But then it builds.
