Mated to the Warrior Beast

Chapter 50



*****

~ TARKYN ~

“It wasn’t a dream,” Harth whispered. “Finally. You’re here.”

Tarkyn couldn’t hide his smile as he nodded. “Finally.”

Her entire face lit up with joy, and Tarkyn couldn’t resist kissing her. But the moment their lips met, he groaned as his body came to life again.

Holding her chin, he smiled into the kiss, rolling her onto her back when she sighed and softened to him.

He’d only intended to kiss her, to give her a taste of the emotions welling in his chest as he’d watched her sleep, but when her hands clawed up his back, and she tilted her head to deepen the kiss, his beast began to purr.

For a while, the only sound in the cave was their twin breaths, growing shallower, faster. Their heartbeats speeding up.

.....

Delight filled his heart when he stroked down her side and felt the goosebumps rise on her thigh under hand. But when a growl broke in his throat, Tarkyn knew he had to take care.

He broke the kiss, leaning over her, forcing himself to pull back far enough to meet her gaze.

Her eyes sought his immediately, a flash of worry on her face. “Are you okay?” she asked quickly. “You’re tired, I’m sorry, I knew-”

“No, sweetheart,” Tarkyn smiled and traced a strand of hair back that had stuck to her cheek. “I’m fine. I wanted to make sure... are you sore? There are other things we could do if... if you need some time to rest and heal.”

She blinked, her forehead pinching to lines as she held his gaze. “Other things?”

“Yes.”

Her hands, which had rested at his waist, tightened on him. “Other things...” she frowned.

“Yes, I-” he sucked in a breath as she rocked her hips, her lower lip going slack as she arched her back and rubbed herself on him. “Holy fuck, Harth-” he croaked.

“I don’t want other things, Tarkyn,” she whispered earnestly. Then the little vixen did it again. “I definitely want you.”

With a growl of approval still puttering in his throat, he took her mouth, tongue teasing and tracing, making promises of what was to come.

When she arched again, he gripped the back of her neck with one hand, bracing on the other as he hollowed his back and pulled himself against her, increasing the pressure between them so that she was the one who gasped.

Except, his blood went up with the electric crackle of pleasure that jolted through him.

For long moments, they rocked together, eyes locked, bodies tensed with the effort to keep the contact.

Harth ran her hands softly up his belly to his chest and he clenched, huffing, then on the next roll, tried to speak. But his body trembled with the restraint he fought to keep.

“Harth-”

“Yes, Tarkyn. It’s always yes.”

“You have to tell me if there’s pain, or anything... anything you don’t like.”

“I will.”

He rolled against her again, his breath shuddering with the perfect sensation of drawing himself along her most sensitive flesh-and her eyes flashed, her cheeks pinking as her heart raced and her breath began to catch.

She was ready for him. He could feel it where they rolled together, the soft warmth of her a stunning, slick welcome that called for him to plunge, to take, to possess. His beast growled for it, and his body screamed for it. But he fought, hands trembling, to keep his control.

The sensation of her hands exploring his body-running over the muscles of his chest and abdomen, following the lines of his waist, playing in the dip of his spine-threatened to tip him over the edge, but he wouldn’t have given it up for anything.

On the next pass he tightened his grip on the back of her neck as he passed over her, then pulled back and held himself against her.

“I love you, Harth,” he breathed in a rush, then took her in a single, slow slide.

“I-oh!” she whimpered, her eyes flying wide. For a moment Tarkyn was afraid she’d been hurt. He sank down, bracing on his elbows as he pulled almost all the way out, but then she sucked in a breath and dug her fingers into his back as she arched to meet him again.

Quaking with the sensation of having her, with the screaming pleasure of joining with her, Tarkyn fought a war within himself-every ounce of his flesh snarling for release, while his heart yearned for it to never end.

As with every thrust, with every roll, the world around them disappeared, until Tarkyn was aware of nothing but the warm softness of her, the pleasure zipping between them as they moved, and the rake of her hands on him-stroking, clawing, then digging into his muscles for grip when he reached the peak of a thrust and held her there for a shining, crystalline moment that threatened to make him explode.

Harth’s eyes closed and her mouth fell open on a sigh of his name as she disappeared into the pleasure. The sight of her so surrendered, so trusting, as she bared her throat, threatened to pummel him into oblivion with the fierce rush of pleasure somehow trembling against a wave of humility.

He did not deserve her, and yet he gave himself just as completely.

Restraint shredded, trembling with the mindless fire that demanded only more, more, more of her, Tarkyn took her mouth, probing the sweet honey of her kiss, and for a moment, almost lost control completely when she traced his tongue with the flat of hers.

The mating call broke in his throat as he forced himself to break the kiss-but only to kiss and sip his way down, nipping at her lower lip, kissing the peak of her chin raised toward the ceiling, tasting the skin under her jaw, her throat, and down... down to explore that hollow between her collarbones with his tongue, and taste the salt between her breasts.

And then, unable to stop, he braced one hand to the furs, fisting them to give himself purchase as he curled his body, thrusting into her as he took her breast in his free hand, stroking, then holding it, thumbing the hard peak until she made a tiny cry.

Arm trembling with the strength it took to keep himself curled over her like that, he took that peak in his mouth and sucked. Hard. Holding her in place as he thrust again, then again.

“Tarkyn!” she cried, no longer stroking, but clinging to him.

A shudder rocked through him when she began to pulse, tightening around him. He prayed for the strength, the control to keep going, to hold himself together until she found her release.

“Tarkyn... Tark-” She broke off in a strangled cry, her skin sheened in sweat as she pulled herself against him again and again.

“Come for me, gorgeous,” he breathed against her skin, then laved that nipple with his tongue again as she gave a sob of pleasure. “Come for me.”

And as she bit her lip, eyes closed and head thrown back, her name was a hosannah on his trembling lips.

He saw nothing but her. And the world had never looked more beautiful.

*****

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