Page 120 of With Fangs and Claws (The Wolf Queen 1)

“You want to do that? Please me with your mouth?” His voice had become dark and silky.

I smiled, or was it the Maiden? I licked the underside of his cock, and any brash facade he’d been able to quickly construct fell apart.

“Will you? Darcy, please…”

I moved then, Granian Darcy feeling utterly out of her depth as she opened her mouth and admitted this hard, thrusting thing into it, but Strelan Darcy seemed to know exactly what to do. My fingers formed a ring around the base of his cock, clasping him tight and then I worked him deeper. My lips tightened and then my tongue slithered around his hardness in a way that seemed entirely instinctual.

Weyland was my mate. Everything I needed to make him mine was inside me, I just had to reach for it. So I took this first step, moving now, so that my sucking mouth slid up and down his cock.

“Gods, Darcy! Fuck!”

His hand went to my hair, balling it in his fist, but he didn’t move me, push me, instead, he merely dug his fingers into its depths as I moved. His panted breaths came rapidly, in time with each bob of my head. Tears streamed from my eyes, but I couldn’t seem to care. I needed something from him, I felt that, but what I got was more than I expected.

He groaned when I pulled away, my fingers no longer able to tighten around his base, because something swelled there, something no one had ever spoken of in all the conversations I’d been a part of or overheard. A hard lump had risen at the root of his cock and when I traced my finger across it, he let out a long, heart-rending groan.

“If you play with that, you’ll get a rude shock,” he growled. “That’s my knot.”

“A… knot?”

My uncertain tone had his eyes flicking down, and he stared at me for a second, before putting two and two together.

“You don’t know?” He shook his head, then raked his fingers through his hair. “Of course, you don’t know.” He pulled his cock from my grip, using the head to hold it hard against his stomach, the knot bulging considerably at that angle. “Two-souled men are different to human men. We have a little extra in that department. It’s the part of me that will swell when you finally realise that you’re mine. When I rut into you, it will get bigger and bigger, locking down behind your pelvic bone, right where there’s a special place that will give you so much pleasure. We’ll be locked together until you’ve climaxed, until you wring every bit of the seed stored here out of me and then I’ll bite you hard, marking you as mine.”

“I’ll bite you,” I growled, not even sure where that came from.

“So you will, lass. So you will. And I’ll glory in every moment of it. I’ll want my mating mark somewhere prominent and easy to see, because I’ll want the whole bloody world to see it. But not yet.”

They each kept saying that with such certainty. I envied them that, the knowledge.

“So if not that, yet,” I asked, “what now?”

“I can go into the bathroom and sort this out if you’d like,” he said briskly, making me think that was a sensible offer, if not a desired one. “You could watch.”

“Or?”

He shifted slightly at that, letting his cock go, the hard length bobbing in the space between us.

“You could keep using your hand on me. That wouldn’t take very long at all. You’ll want to take off your jerkin and your shirt because otherwise I’ll plaster it with my cum. I’d much rather rub that into your skin, marking you as mine.”

“Or?”

I asked that question in a much lower, huskier tone now, a steady pulse between my legs letting me know just what could be an option. My mind didn’t understand this thing of rutting and locking down inside me, but my body did. His finger went to my jaw, tracing the very edge of it, his hand going to his cock and angling it down.

“Or you could part those pretty little lips and suck me into your mouth. You’re entirely too good at that already, making me want to shout that to the skies then interrogate just who taught you those skills. You could fit your hand around my knot and squeeze—”

“Like this?” I said, doing just as he said. He let out a strangled sound in response, and a pearly liquid oozed out of him. The noise that followed was an even more guttural as I sucked the head clean.

“Fuck, Darcy…,” he growled. “You don’t know what the hell you’re doing to me. I want you to keep doing that. Yes, just like that… I want you to swallow down everything I’ve got; I want to fill you up, mark you as mine, once and for all.”

Despite his declaration, I suspected I was terrible at this. My teeth seemed to graze along his length more than once, my rhythm was jerky and irregular, but Weyland didn’t seem to care. He babbled out praise and promises, instructions and celebrations and then it all just devolved into short little panting breaths.

“Tell me if you want this or not,” he said, even though I obviously couldn’t. “I’m gonna come, love, and if you keep doing that, I’ll shoot all the way down your throat.”

He was saying that like it would be a terrible fate for me but a most desired one for him, so I persisted. His cock seemed to swell even harder then, his knot becoming swollen tight, right as I gave it a long squeeze.

“Fuck!”

His hands slapped down on my skull, keeping me exactly where I was now that I’d made my decision, and for good reason. All that ejaculate that women had spoken of came rushing out and filled my mouth. My eyes went wide and I went to pull away, but he held me where I was, forcing me to swallow, swallow, swallow or gag instead. Gradually, slowly, the knot deflated, and he released his hold on me. That’s when I looked up.

I’d never seen this Weyland, wavering on his feet and looking utterly sated, a slow sloppy smile spreading across his face before he picked me up and laid me across the bed. He snuggled into me, more a pet cat than a man with a wolf’s soul right now.

“You know that men can do a similar thing to women,” he said curling his body against mine, trapping me where I was as his thigh was thrown over me.

“How…?” I began to ask, then gave up. I’d reached my limit today, despite the steady throb setting up inside my body. “Never mind.”

“Some time later, then,” he said in an eminently smug tone. “I’ll taste you, my mate, and listen to your little cries of pleasure as you burst all over my face.”

Would I? How would I? What he described, it was so different to what I’d been raised to expect about how things would work between a man and a woman. But I had to admit, the glimpses I got were much more tantalising than anything my Granian compatriots had ever come up with.

“Later,” I agreed, burrowing my face into Weyland’s neck, just breathing him in, breathing the moment in, before I fell asleep.

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