Page 76 of Feral Guardian
“I want you to,” I whisper.
His eyes dart up to mine and I can see their desperate plea. The man inside him wants me to get dressed, the demon wants to lay me out on the cold floor and devour me whole. I want the latter.
Alastair’s claws dig into the stone archway as he seems to unwillingly turn toward me. He’s at war with himself, and I want the baser desire to win. Ineedthe baser desire to win. I need him, just once, before I can never have him again.
His feet stay rooted in place and he snarls. “I. Will. Not. Fuck. You.”
I’m not sure why I’m so bold, but my hand trails up the soft, wet skin of my stomach, drawing Alastair’s eyes with it. I settle that hand over my breast and massage it softly. He growls, low and deep in his chest, but it reverberates over the walls as his horns press out another inch.
“Why are you fighting this?” I ask.
He launches himself at me faster than I can register, capturing me around the waist and pressing me against the shelves of beets and onions. His body is hot and hard against mine as my wetness soaks into his clothes. The red glow of his eyes is the only thing illuminating us in the dark depths of this refuge.
Alastair grabs my chin, pushing my head aside to give him better access to my neck. His tongue lashes out against my skin, branding me with heat and yearning. A deep ache blooms in my center and I moan.
His clawed hand slides down my side and hikes my thigh around his hip. His erection strains against his pants, pressing into my most sensitive area, and I angle myself toward him. Fangs graze the expanse of my throat and I gasp.
“Bite me,” I beg, unsure why I so crave those fangs in the meat of my neck, marrying the pleasure and the pain.
His body pushes against mine, impossibly hard and all-consuming.
I tangle my fingers through his hair and grab him by the horns. “Make it known to whom I belong.”
Chapter twenty-three
Alastair
“Make it known to whom I belong.” Her voice sears right through my control and I let my curse free. My body grows another half foot in all directions and my horns fully emerge. I don’t allow myself to bite her. I can’t taste her blood. If I do, this tenuous restraint I have, this barely manageable promise to not fuck her, will evaporate.
Lily bares herself to me and I can’t stop teasing her with my teeth. I don’t want to stop. The silky skin of her neck is begging for my fangs, begging for a mark. Gods, how I want to…But not just mark. I want a promise.
I want her to be mine, forever.
If I do this, I will share her with no one. No lord or prince’s babies will fill her belly. She will take only my seed, only my cock. The throne will be hers and I will make it so by blood and fury. She is my queen.
My queen.
My tongue strokes up her neck again and she moans, begging. “Please.”
Her skin tastes of salt and roses.
“Mine,” my voice rumbles when my tongue reaches her jaw.
“Yes. Yours,” she whispers. “Only yours.”
I drop to my knees, though it’s still not quite low enough to reach her core. I hook her thighs over my shoulders, and she gives a quiet yelp as I push her up off the ground. Her hands grip my horns, and I groan at the throb of pleasure it gives me. They’ve never been this sensitive before, but she makes my demon come alive.
She’s well and truly bared to me for the first time, and I see her. She has dark, curly hair framing her folds, and arousal glistens between them. I place my fingers against her outer lips and spread her apart without warning. She gasps, her hands tightening on me.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
Her head and chest are framed by her strong arms gripping my horns. Water glistens on the peaks of her budded nipples, looking so delicate and so delectable. My amethyst tracking necklace glows between her breasts, responding to my magic’s call. Her eyes are half lidded and her cheeks flush a soft crimson. She looks like a queen sitting on her throne.
“This is what you want?” I ask, then drag my tongue through her center.
She moans, low and throaty as if she’s trying to hide it. Her taste is even better from the source than it was off her fingers, and my cock. She’s like a fucking drug I can’t quit. She’s my personal krysanthem. She gives me a manic high, makes me strong, and gives me everything I never knew I needed.
Lily’s hand moves like lightning over my shoulder and I catch the barest flick of Nol’Ther’s silence as a ripple of green shrouds us.
