Kelly Meade - Black Rook

He kicked off his shoes, then shucked his jeans and belt, leaving only his boxer briefs still on—briefs that outlined his erection and left little to her imagination. Her body clenched with anticipation; she wanted him inside of her. She pulled him down for another kiss, thrusting her tongue into his mouth to dance with his. He allowed her to control this kiss, to lick into his mouth and withdraw at her own pace.

Her fingers slid down his back, over shifting muscles and the ridges of his spine, to dip just beneath the waistband of his briefs. He groaned into her mouth, but did not drop his hips as she’d hoped. He stayed above her, out of reach, a delightful anticipation of things to come. She raised one leg and rubbed her knee against his ribs.

He made a sexy noise that burned through her senses. “God, Brynn,” he huffed. “Don’t know if I can make this last.”

She turned her head so she could nip his earlobe, and she tasted the metallic bite of steel. Her hands dug into the flesh of his buttocks. “Then make it memorable.”

He shuddered and groaned, and Brynn’s mind flashed briefly to the idea of protection. She was an extraordinary creature—half loup and half Magus, and even though loup-human half-breeds were sterile, and no one could say with absolute certainty that pregnancy was impossible. As far as she was aware, she and her sister were the first of their kind to exist, and the possibility of carrying Rook’s child did not frighten her.

He slipped off his briefs, and Brynn sat up to watch him stroke himself. His erection was startling in its simple beauty—a description she’d have never thought to apply to an erect penis. Not overly long or terrifyingly thick, the dark red length curled toward Rook’s belly, the head already glistening. Part of her wanted to taste him; the rest of her was too impatient. There would be time— please, Avesta, let there be time —later for more in-depth explorations.

“Lean back,” he said.

She did, her body quivering with anticipation and arousal, desperate for his touch. He hooked his fingers in the sides of her panties and pulled them down, revealing her in slow, deliberate inches. He dragged his fingers over her skin, down her thighs, past her knees, all the way to her feet, the persistent press against her skin setting her nerves on fire. He dropped the scrap of fabric to the floor, and finally they were naked together.

He gazed at her in way she had never experienced and had not anticipated—with utter adoration and mystification, as if he couldn’t believe the treasure he’d uncovered. She blushed under the intensity of his eyes, even as the lust in his smile gave her the confidence to open her legs a tiny bit wider.

He accepted her silent invitation with a soft growl—only he didn’t blanket her with his body as she’d hoped. He shocked her by putting her legs over his shoulders, cupping her buttocks in his hands, and licking the length of her sex. She cried out, unable to stop the noise, then slapped a hand over her mouth. Her insides clenched and white fire raced in her veins. He licked and kissed her in a way no one ever had, until she was writhing, keening, desperate for release. Her head fell back and she shut her eyes, unable to do anything but experience the pleasure coiling in her body.

His finger slid inside and pumped slowly in time with his tongue. He focused his attention on her clitoris, alternately sucking and nipping at the small bundle of nerves until Brynn was positive she would fly out of her own skin. Everything pulled taut, tight, and then burst in a rolling wave that began in her core and expanded out to touch every inch of her. Her body clenched and relaxed, her skin was on fire, her nerves sang with delight.

Rook coaxed her through it, until she could only gasp and quiver and mutter breathless thank-you’s laced with various profanities. He leaned over her, mouth glistening, pupils blown wide. She had no words, so she reached for his head, drew him down. He hesitated, then plundered her mouth in a dizzying kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue and lips—an odd flavor, proof of what they’d done—and she whined softly, desperate for more. To complete the journey they’d begun together.

He licked into her mouth once more, and then very gently turned her onto her stomach.

Rook brushed a lock of sweaty hair off Brynn’s shoulder, then kissed the back of her neck. Goose bumps prickled across her skin, and she giggled, a sound both adorably girlish and mind-blowingly sexy. He did it again, just to hear her re-create that melody.

He’d been surprised when she kissed him a moment ago. The last girl he’d gone down on and then kissed had shoved him away and gargled her beer. Unsurprisingly, their night had ended soon after.

Brynn was different. She embraced everything they did together. Her body responded to his touch in a way he’d never experienced before. She touched him the way music never could. This was what making love should be like, and he was dizzy with joy to have this with her.

He nudged her left leg, helping her bend it slightly toward her chest, opening her body for him. The air was scented with sex and sweat and an animal passion that prickled his scalp and put fire in his blood. She was his, and he was hers—mates in mind and spirit, and momentarily in body.

“Make love to me,” Brynn said. “Please, Rook.”

Arousal shuddered down his spine, straight to his aching cock. He curled his body around hers, cradling himself in the crease of her ass, her skin hot and damp beneath him. She huffed softly and rocked her hips. He groaned, then nipped at the cord of muscle between her neck and shoulder.

Rook reached down and lined his cock up with her entrance. His heart pounded in his chest, deafening his ears to everything except his own erratic pulse and rasping breath. Slowly, so damn slowly, he pushed inside her tight heat. He lost himself in the sensation of her body allowing him inside, of the way her hips moved and her torso shook, of the completely primal act of claiming this woman as his. His beast growled its approval. When he was fully sheathed, he stopped even though he wanted to move. He needed a moment to—

Brynn clenched around him, and he groaned. So much for waiting.

He withdrew almost to the point of leaving her completely, then drove back in. She said his name in a way that broke the last of his restraint. He snapped his hips, slamming into her over and over, as though the next thrust might take him wholly inside. She stretched her hands out beside her head and clenched the bedspread. Rook curled his own hands over hers and held tight. She thrust back against him as he plunged forward, creating a rhythm that sparked white fire at the base of his spine.

Back and forth, they moved together in an endless haze of pleasure and heat, creating a perfect song with their bodies. The fire in his spine coiled tight and then burst forth without warning. He buried his face in her shoulder to keep from screaming his release. His body shook from the force of it, and then he fell, boneless, on top of her. He didn’t want to move, buried so wonderfully in her body, so completely joyous and sated. His heartbeat slowly calmed and his pulse rate returned to normal, but he knew that the song, once again, had changed.

Mine .

He withdrew with care, stupidly pleased to have left some of himself inside of her. Marking her as his. Brynn turned onto her side, and he wrapped his arms around her from behind. She fit against him perfectly, and he wanted her there always.

As much as he longed to stay there in bed, surrounded by the musky scent of sex and the heat of Brynn’s body, he couldn’t. Not for long, not right now. Too many things were still unknown and undecided. He’d found Brynn and claimed her, but unless he discovered an alternative to their current options, tonight he would lose one of his brothers.