A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 2)

Fear wormed through my gut at how rough this was starting. How out of control it seemed. But my animal was completely in her element. I’d never felt this sort of arousal pumping through us. It was raw and primal, completely devoid of thought and social niceties. It didn’t rely on mutual respect or feelings or hearts or flowers. It was two beings utterly lost to their need for each other, and not giving a shit about anything in the world except how best to express it. They wanted to fuck, hard and long and without barriers. Without safe words. Without saying die. They wanted to take each other to the extreme and see who could stick it out.

And I was just a passenger. So was Nyfain.

I could either be traumatized by the whole thing, or get behind it and experience it for what it was—carnal, passionate, world-ending sex that would likely leave me a sore, hobbling mess in the morning. So be it.

The dragon in Nyfain’s skin prowled toward us slowly, his movements sleek and agile. His broad shoulders swung with each step, his magnificent display of muscle tightening and loosening as he moved. His power pulsed in heady, dense waves that caressed our skin and turned our bones to liquid.

“Yes, alpha,” my animal said, our voice wanton. “Take what is yours.”

He closed the distance, taking his time. With only about a foot between us, he looked down at my clothes. He traced the line of buttons down our front and then dipped his finger in one of the holes. He ripped down little by little, popping off buttons. He pushed the fabric away and ran his fingers across the top of the waistline, dipping in just a little and tracing it around, identifying what belonged to him.

With a fast movement my animal wasn’t expecting, he grabbed the top of my shirt and tore it the rest of the way. The rest of the buttons popped off. The shirt gaped open. He slowed down again, leaving us gasping for air, our chest heaving against the binding.

He pushed the fabric off our shoulders and down, throwing it to the side as though the garment was beneath us. As though a creature of our stature should only wear finery or nothing at all.

He traced a finger across my binding, finding a nipple and circling it slowly. With his other hand, he pulled the strip of leather on my sword belt taut before loosening it and letting it drop where it lay. Then he grabbed the middle of the binding and ripped it down. Fabric screamed. Seams tore. Our breasts tumbled out, bared to the night air. The chill immediately hardened our sensitive nipples, on display.

A growl of approval rumbled deep in his chest. The effect sent a thrill of pleasure slithering across our heated flesh.

He bent as he unbuttoned my pants, slanting his tongue across a nipple. He enveloped it in his mouth and sucked. A shock of pleasure teased a moan from our parted lips.

He undid the zipper and pushed my pants down, following them to our ankles before sliding them off with my shoes.

He fell to his knees and flung one of our knees over his shoulder. He tasted our inner thigh, licking gently, then skimmed his lips across our wanton flesh, stopping near our apex to harshly suck in sensitive skin.

Her hiss turned into a moan as his fingertip traced down our panty-clad center, morphing the feeling into pleasure. She clutched the tree with our nails.

He curled his fingers under the strip of fabric covering our pussy. With a harsh movement, he yanked it away. Fabric tore. He tossed it aside. His mouth worked inward, his tongue licking just beside our folds before he moved to our center and inhaled deeply.

What is he doing? I thought, the equivalent of a whisper.

He’s savoring the scent of our arousal. Just shh and enjoy it.

I internally grimaced, trying not to get weirded out by the animality of it, and then mentally took a deep breath and sank back into the moment.

His tongue delved through our slick folds. Our body jolted like we’d been struck by lightning.

Her moan of delight rippled through us. He licked and tasted his way up to our clit before sucking it in, pulsing the suction. His fingers trailed along the inside of our thigh before finding our entrance and dipping inside, still exploring, now figuring out what made us tick.

This. This fucking made us tick. Her, me, it didn’t matter. This would make anyone tick!

She groaned and pushed our pussy harder into his face, but he backed off, looking up at us with a devilish smile. He made three tsking noises consecutively, telling her not to be so eager. He’d fuck us when he was ready.

My animal was deciphering all of this, of course. Reading his body language, understanding his unspoken assertions. I was just along for the ride. So far the ride was fucking amazing, and we hadn’t even done anything yet.