Page 105 of Tharn's Hunt
Hard.
She screams, the sound piercing the stone walls.
Her hands fly to my head, fingers fisting in the copper-red strands at my scalp, her back bowing off the furs as something rips through her.
I don’t stop.
Ican’t.
I keep my mouth on her, drinking in every pulse, every shudder, until she’s sobbing, her fingers tugging weakly at me.
“Please—I can’t?—!”
But shecan.
And Iwon’tlet her go.
I press my forehead against her thigh, my breath ragged, my new member aching so badly I can barelythink.
When her fingers brush my jaw, I freeze.
Her touch is soft, her eyes hazy but locked on mine.
Hers.
The realizationburnsthrough me.
I shift my weight, moving over her with an aching slowness that is its own kind of violence. My body settles over hers as my member throbs against her stomach, thick and slick anddripping.
A hot, viscous fluid beads at the tip, spilling over in a slow, shameless leak. A waste of water? Something my body has never done before.
But no, not a waste. Somehow, instinctively, I know it’s for her.
I shudder, my hips jerking involuntarily, smearing the slickness between us.
Her breath hitches as she feels it. The heat, the wetness, the way my member pulses against her.
Then her gaze drops.
I watch her eyes widen, her lips parting as she takes in the changes. The ridges along the underside, raised and sensitive. And the base?—
Ain.
A swollen, curved protrusion rises there, like a second, smaller shaft, but flatter, curved like a dust serpent's scale with ridges of its own. It curves toward my shaft like a strange extension.
What the dust is that?
I don’t know. But my body does.
It’s for her, too.
Jah-kee inhales deeply, her legs spreading wider, welcoming me. My hips stutter. I’ve seen this before. In her dreams. I know what she wants. I know what sheneedsme to do.
I drag the thick head of my shaft through her slick,teasing, watching her face. Her whole body jerks, a single, sharp tremor that runs from her shoulders to her toes.
“Tharn.”
Her voice isbroken.
