His eyes seemed to widen then his expression twisted as lust transformed his features and he began to move. Each heavy thrust pierced her deeper than just the clenching depths of her vagina. Sensation tore through her with excruciating pleasure/ pain. It stroked along once hidden nerve endings, reached to the depths of her and burned into her soul.
She held on to Del-Rey. She stared up at him, and felt the spinning whirlwind whipping inside her latch onto her. Hunger. An agony of need so deep, so desperate she couldn’t fight it any longer. Her hips lifted and her legs wrapped around his hips as she met each thrust, each stroke with a broken cry.
She was filled with midnight colors as she stared into his eyes and held on to him. Thick, dark blond lashes, so thick she would be jealous later. She felt the muscles of his biceps beneath her fingers as she dug into them, clenching at him as he drove into her, his hips thrusting heavily now, harder, faster as she felt the ever narrowing spirals of pleasure whipping through her.
“Yes.” His voice was part animal, part man. “Fuck me, Anya. Take me, baby. All of me. Take all of me.”
She knew what was coming. She felt her own orgasm building inside her, and she knew what it would do to her, what it would do to him.
In those years that her heart had settled on this Breed, she had never expected this. Scientists and techs used Breeds as sex toys, often having their favorites, calling them their pets, and this had never happened then. There were no animalistic results to those sexual adventures.
But Anya knew there would be now. She knew where the whirlwind would throw them, and she fought to hold back. Not yet. She didn’t want it to happen yet. She didn’t want the fear, she didn’t want that total loss of self that came with it.
“I have you.” His voice brushed over her senses. “Hold on to me, Anya. I have you. Always.”
He drove inside her, fast, furious, shafting inside her with a power and a pleasure that took that control, took that last edge of strength and tore it from her grasp.
She heard her own screams of release. Breathless, pleading, an agony of pleasure ripping through her as she felt the first convulsive eruption tear over her senses.
Then, she felt his release. She felt the swelling, the burning stretch of muscle and tissue, the violent throb of heavy veins pounding into nerve endings that screamed from the additional intensity. She heard his shout, then a sound that was part snarl, part howl as his head lowered and his teeth pierced her shoulder.
It wasn’t pain. It was too intense to be pleasure.
Anya was locked in a world of sensation so brutal she screamed out his name as she felt the first furious blast of se**n erupting into her already too sensitive sex, and the additional width, locking him into the clenching muscles of her pu**y, set off a harder, stronger eruption that seemed to center in her womb.
She was coming hard, each detonation jerking her muscles, tightening them until she cried out in fear and in wonder. Because she wasn’t lost. She could feel Del-Rey, his growls at her shoulder, his shoulders beneath her clawing nails, his thighs powerful and flexing as her legs wrapped around them.
She wasn’t lost without him, she was lost within him, holding tight as flames raged over her, pleasure tore through her, and for the first time in eight months a sense of completion overcame her.
How long it lasted, she didn’t know. They shuddered together, jerking and moaning, each pulse of his release triggering another smaller explosion inside her as the mating knot throbbed hard against sensitive nerve endings and sent another current of electrical pleasure sizzling through her.
She was aware of his teeth buried in her flesh, but this time, there was no pain. There was the feel of his tongue touching the wound as he gently extracted the curved canines and licked over the mark with sensual enjoyment. The feel of his hands, one buried in her hair, one holding her hip with what she was certain was bruising force.
Then the knot pulsed again and she shuddered, a weak cry leaving her lips as another detonation of release gripped her, spasmed through her.
It was too much pleasure. Too much sensation. She was crying. She could feel the tears falling from her eyes even as she buried her face in his shoulder and bit him back.
She would be shocked later, she promised herself as she felt her teeth clench the hard muscle of his shoulder. Later, she would debate the wisdom of the action. For now, she heard his shocked exclamation, felt his hips jerk against her, the swelling inside her throb and se**n pulse. Anya moaned low and ragged as the taste of male flesh filled her mouth and Del-Rey seemed to fill her very soul.
Nothing should be this good, this torrential, this overwhelming. No pleasure this intense and all-consuming could survive. But if it didn’t, then Anya feared that this time, if she lost it, she could not hold on to her own sanity.
Del-Rey held on to her. It was all she had asked of him. To hold on to her, not to let her go. He held her against his chest until the swelling eased and he was able to withdraw from her. A grimace of surging pleasure twisted his expression at the feel of her still-snug grip against the overly sensitive flesh of his cock. Another small ripple of sensation fluttered through her muscles before she relaxed against him again, curling against his chest as he collapsed beside her and wrapped his arms around her.
This was what he had craved all those months ago.
“Are you okay?” He tried to keep his voice low, keep the growl out of it. There was no way to hold back the satisfaction that filled him though.
For the first time in eight months he wasn’t tortured with the need. He was semi-aroused, but that desperate throb of agony was no longer present.
“Hmm,” she mumbled against his chest.
He almost grinned at the grumpy, slumberous little sound.
“That’s not an answer, Mate,” he told her, keeping his voice low as amusement threaded through it. “Should I warn Wolfe that we need to call another tribunal?” A second later a sharp pinch to his waist had him chuckling.
“Go to sleep,” she ordered, but her voice was sex soft and filled with sleepy satisfaction. “While you’ve been lazing the last two days away, I’ve been working. I’m tired.”
He grinned again, remembering the security recordings Brim had shown him before he literally passed out.
“While the alpha’s sleeping the coya’s playing?” he asked her.
“Being your coya is damned hard work.” She stretched as she spoke, a sinuous, almost feline movement of grace that had him pushing back the thought that perhaps he could f**k her again. Maybe this time slower, easier.