Page 50 of Feral Fates
Chapter
Fifteen
RYKER
We barely make it through the door of our rooms. The second it clicks shut behind us, I lose the leash I had on my control.
Her surrender tastes sweet, but her desire tastes like fucking heaven.
Kitara’s mine, and every part of me—both wolf and man—howls to claim her. But this isn’t about me. This is about giving her the kind of pleasure that will ruin her for anyone else.
Not that she’ll need anyone else. Ever.
I crowd her back against the wall, hands braced on either side of her head. She’s panting, pupils wide, chest rising in quick little bursts that have the scent of her arousal spiking. My cock aches.
Gods, I want her.
Her scent has been changing over the past few days—growing richer, more complex. My wolf had paced restlessly, recognizing what was coming even if she hadn’t. He wants to take her now—fast, rough, mark her with teeth and knot until she forgets her own name. He wants to come in her, fillher up, come on her breasts, her back, her face. He wants his scent rubbed into her skin and our pup planted in her belly.
Unlike my wolf, I’m not prepared to rush. I want her trembling, begging, shaking with need. I want her thick thighs wrapped around my head and her cunt pressed to my mouth as I taste her sweet surrender.
“Take it off,” I growl, tugging at her dress.
She fumbles with it, but she’s shaking, clumsy. I step in, helping my mate.
“Let me.”
I fist the fabric in my hands and with one tug, rip it apart. The sound is satisfying, primal. Kitara gasps, bare now to my gaze. Her skin gleams, soft and perfect, every inch of her mine to explore.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I murmur, kissing her shoulder, her neck, the tender spot behind her ear. She shivers arching into me. “Let me take my time with you.”
Her fingers curl in my hair. “Yes.”
With a curse, I lift her into my arms, carrying her easily across to our bed—where I’ve spent the last few weeks hard as a rock, fighting my wolf as she sleeps peacefully beside me.
I’d woken early each morning, thick and hard, aching to touch her, to taste her, to give her pleasure. Instead, I’d slung out of our fucking room to crawl into an ice cold shower while I jerked off to fantasies of Kitara.
Not one of those imaginings stands up to the reality of her. Kitara far exceeds any fantasy I might have entertained.
Now on the bed, I stretch over her body, settling my weight on her. Her hands come to grip my hips, the thin material of my pants barely a barrier between us.
I kiss her slowly this time—deep and lingering. A kiss made for claiming, made for unraveling. My hands find her waist, thumbs stroking her ample hips, then slide up. I palmher heavy breasts, lifting them, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they pebble beneath my touch.
She gasps my name, arching into me, and I smile against her mouth.
“Sensitive?”
She nods, breath catching.
“Good.”
I lower my mouth to her breast, taking one nipple between my lips and sucking slowly. I use my tongue, teasing her areola before sucking until she moans. I roll the other between my fingers, teasing it to the same peak. I switch sides, lavishing attention on each breast until she’s trembling, panting, clinging to me.
I learn that she likes gentle teasing from my fingers but strong, wet suction from my mouth. I alternate over and over, lost in her taste and texture, relishing the way she grips my hair.
“Ryker,” she groans. “That—gods, Ryker. That feels... so good.”
I pause, lips still on her breast. “You like that, little wolf?”
