Page 47 of Orange Tundra
She blinked, eyes wet. “I know. I just—sometimes I can’t believe any of this is real.”
I leaned in, pressing my forehead to hers. “It’s real. I’m real. And I’m not letting you go.”
She let out a shuddering breath, clutching at my shirt. “Don’t let go. Not tonight.”
As if I ever fucking could.
My mouth was on her before I could stop myself, kissing her hard, tongue thrusting deep, claiming her breath and giving her mine. Her hands threaded in my fur, desperate and needy, yanking me closer. I tasted salt, tears, sweat, fear, and I licked it from her skin, letting her feel how much I needed her, needed her safe, needed her whole.
Her legs parted wider, hips shifting instinctively. I felt the hunger rise, that deep, possessive need to fill her, mark her, remind the entire world who she belonged to. But I caught myself—held back at the edge of ravaging her.
“Sim…” She was breathless, the word half-plea, half-warning.
I broke away, chest heaving. “No.” I forced myself to slow, to gentle. “I can’t risk it. Not now. No fucking way I’m adding to what’s already happening inside you.”
She laughed—a wild, shaky sound. “Is that even possible?”
“Don’t care. I’m not finding out.” My tail slid up her thigh, stroking. “But I can still worship you.”
I dropped to my knees, settling between her legs. She gasped as I slid her tunic up, baring her to the cold air and my ravenous gaze. Her thighs trembled, parted for me, slick and already wet, the scent of her sex thick and dizzying. I licked my lips, letting her see my hunger, my need.
“You’re trembling,” I murmured, voice dropping lower. “You need me?”
She nodded, breathless. “Yes. Sim, please.”
That was all I needed.
I buried my face between her legs, tongue spearing deep to taste her, to drink in the mix of sweetness and salt, fear and arousal. My hands gripped her thighs, fingers digging in, holding her open, holding her still while I devoured her. I flicked my tongue over her clit, slow at first, teasing, then faster, harder, until she writhed beneath me, gasping, sobbing my name.
“Sim—fuck—don’t stop, don’t you dare—” Her hips bucked up, grinding against my mouth, greedy for more.
I smiled against her cunt, letting my teeth graze her swollen clit, just enough to make her shudder. “You like that?” My words were muffled, filthy, possessive. “Want more? Want my tail too?”
She moaned, feral, desperate. “Yes—use it—use anything, I don’t care, just—oh god?—”
I slid my tail up, curling the tip between her slick folds, pressing against her entrance without breaching. Instead, I traced slow, agonizing circles around her clit with the flat of my tongue, my tail flicking and stroking in time, teasing her open. She was so wet, dripping down my face, her scent driving me half-mad.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” I whispered, pausing only long enough to speak, to taunt. “Open for me. Needy. My filthy little mate.”
She whined, wordless, hips rolling, chasing every touch. “More. Please. Sim—I need?—”
My tail pressed firmer, sliding just inside, curling to stroke her G-spot with relentless precision. My mouth never left her clit, lips sucking, tongue flicking, building her higher and higher.Her moans got louder, more desperate, until she was clawing at the rock behind her, legs shaking uncontrollably.
“Come for me, Brynn. I want to feel you lose control. I want you to drench me.”
She sobbed, a broken, beautiful sound. “Sim—something’s happening—I can’t—fuck?—”
She arched, body locking tight, and then it hit—her pussy spasmed around my tail, and a gush of wet heat exploded over my mouth, soaking me. She screamed, shaking, her entire body convulsing as she squirted for the first time, pleasure so raw it bordered on agony.
The scent, the taste, the sight of her—fuck, it undid me. I groaned, coming hard in my pants, hips jerking as my cock spilled, messy and uncontrolled, all from worshipping her, from giving her everything and taking nothing but her pleasure.
We collapsed together, panting, sweat and slickness and love tangling us up. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, grinning like a lunatic, drunk on her.
She blinked at me, dazed, lips parted. “Did I just?—?”
“You did,” I said, pride and awe in every syllable. “You fucking drenched me. Gods, Brynn…”
She started to laugh, then sob, then laugh again, clinging to me as the aftershocks rolled through her. I kissed her belly, reverent, whispering to the life—lives—inside. “You’re strong, all of you. You’re going to survive this. I’ll make sure of it.”
