Page 78 of Tusks & Saddles
“For fuck’s sake, Welborn,” Beatrix sighed, a pained expression across her face. “You can’t say stuff like that to me. You’re making me crazy.”
“Me? Miss Eaves, what are you talking about? You’re a dream. I’ve never felt anything this intense before. I feel like if I don’t keep going, I’m gonna explode into a million pieces. I have never wanted something as badly as this, and it’s so illogical,” Welborn laughed, a wide grin of disbelief along his face. “I don’t know what this is, but I want it. I want you, Miss Eaves. Please?Please, I need you so badly—”
Beatrix’s hand slipped beneath his drawers and closed around his cock. The yelp he let out was cute, but the way he shuddered beneath her hand was doing so much for her prideful ego. His eyes shut, his face tense as he tried to stop his hips from pumping forward. He was already so slick, so eager for her. It was hard not to be flattered as her fingers worked him, spreading more of him over his length.
“I—” Welborn shivered. “Fuck, oh, that’s good.”
“Are you enjoying yourself, Welborn?”
“Yes, yes, Miss Eaves. I—ah, I am!” His hand shot forward, tightening around her wrist to still her. “But I—I might like it a little too much. I don’t want this to be over before it starts, if that’s all right?”
“Of course,” Beatrix replied, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. “Thank you for telling me.”
He nodded, nearly groaning as she withdrew her hand. The agony of waiting would be short-lived as Beatrix raised slightly onto her knees, bunching the material of her slip out of the way. She shifted back down, hand snaking beneath the undergarment. When Beatrix’s hand found him again, she connected him directly with her. The moment their skin touched, they both moaned in unison.
It had been so long since Beatrix had felt this. The sensation of his cock brushing against her cunt—it made Beatrix’s thighs tremble. Welborn’s grip on her outer thighs tightened beneath her skirts. His tusks jutting out from his bottom lip as his teeth clenched.
“Are you ready?” Beatrix asked, rubbing the length of him against her. “Are you ready to be inside me, Welborn?”
“Miss Eaves,” he whimpered.
From any other man it would have been a pitiful sound, but from Welborn? All it did was excite Beatrix. To know that he was so eager and wanted her so badly that he could barely contain himself—
“Fuck,” she sighed. “Okay, shh. I’ll give you what you want.”
The stretch was a momentary discomfort that Beatrix could have remedied with her own fingers if she had properly planned ahead. She had a feeling Welborn would have lost his senses if she started that way. If the way his hands tightened on the outside of her thighs, mindful of the tender skin of her injury. His head had fallen back, as if his neck could no longer support it. His eyelashes were fluttering, his chest almost erratic as he gulped air down as if he were drowning.
It was, without a doubt, one of the most attractive sights Beatrix had seen in a long time.
“How does that feel?” she asked, running her hands along his shoulders. “Everything okay?”
Welborn nodded—a frantic motion as he bit his lip.
“It’s good—” he huffed. “I—oh, it’s somuch better than I dreamed.”
The admission warmed her skin, and she involuntarily clenched around him. Another groan escaped his mouth, a small stream of sweat fell at the edge of his temple.
“Good. I’m going to start moving now. If you need me to stop—for whatever reason—please let me know,” she instructed. “And if you can’t talk, just tap my ankle.”
“Yes, Miss Eaves,” he managed.
Bracing her hands firmly on his shoulders, Beatrix rose and fell. The second thrust had made the slide a lot more comfortable, notching Welborn’s cock exactly where Beatrix needed it. Or perhaps she had simply gotten wetter. The fluid that was gathering between them was growing with every twist of her hips and every pant that escaped. Pleasure that was well-known to her building rapidly, and from the way Welborn was nosily sighing and groaning, Beatrix only felt more heated.
The air beneath her veil had grown humid, sweat falling freely on their skin. When they kissed and the salty taste of Welborn’s upper lip hit Beatrix’s tongue, she moaned into his mouth. Beatrix wasn’t prepared for when Welborn’s hands slipped toward her ass, pulling her closer to his hips, and pumping eagerly into her cunt. Perhaps it was the sound of her taking pleasure that had set him off, but whatever the reason, Beatrix wasn’t going to complain.
She wanted him to take pleasure in her body, the same body Beatrix had wanted to hide once she left her home. It had been forever since someone hadseenher, even obscured beneath the veil with only the scarce light of the nearby fire trickling in. Yet, the way Welborn would catch her gaze beneath his half lidded eyes, the way his hand slipped to the small of her back to keep her hips meeting his—it all left her gasping and wanting more.
Reason and logic.
Careful planning.
Safety and security.
All of it was swept away by impulse as Beatrix threw her head back with a cry. The action knocked her hat off her head, sending the veil somewhere behind her. Light suddenly flooded her vision. As the chill night air brushed her exposed skin, Beatrix saw something out of the corner of her eye. Glowing, tiny—whatever it was held her attention for only a moment as Welborn lifted his hips and gave a deep thrust that sent her falling back toward him.
“Welborn!”
“Ah, Miss Eaves,” he whispered with awe as bright yellow eyes stared up into her face. “Oh, fuck, you’re more beautiful than I could ever imagine.”
