Cursed Mate (Feral Shifters 3) - Page 9

This right here is Kian’s way. Something that could only ever exist between the two of us. A potent, overwhelming mix of anger and pain and love and hate that makes me want to tear him to pieces just so I can get closer to the heart of who he is. Just so I can dig out his soul and wrap myself in it like a blanket.

Kian’s lips press together as he realizes I’m not going to speak, but rather than demanding an answer, he just uses his grip on me to rock me more forcefully against his thigh, grinding his cock against my stomach as he does.

And finally, it hits.

My legs tighten around his, my toes curling into the dirt as white heat bursts through my body like a supernova.

“Oh god! Oh shit! Fuck. Fuck!”

I lose my rhythm, but Kian takes over, guiding me up and down as my soaked pussy slides over his leg. The orgasm rolls through me in waves, making me shudder and shake with each new spasm of pleasure.

My heartbeat seems to speed up and slow down all at once, thudding heavily in my chest as I blink dazedly.

Kian’s hold on me finally loosens, and I sink back against the tree as a few inches of space open up between us. He’s breathing harder too, even though he’s not the one who just came, and he slides his hand over my hip before delving his fingers between my legs.

Before I’m ready for it, two thick digits slide into me, and my pussy clenches tight around the intrusion.

“You’re soaked,” he comments in a rough voice. “Your thighs are wet with it. My thigh is wet with it. I can feel you fluttering around my fingers, trying to pull me in deeper. That’s what you want, isn’t it, baby? More? You’re still so fucking hungry.”

As if to show me how true his words are, he drags his fingers out of me and brings them to his lips. I can see the way light glints off the slick arousal that coats them, all the way past the second knuckle. He sticks both fingers in his mouth and sucks on them, and my stomach clenches as a fire stokes low in my belly.

“Maybe I am hungry,” I murmur, a challenge in my tone.

Reaching down, I wrap my hand around his cock, taking almost vicious pleasure in the way his body jerks at my touch, the chiseled muscles of his stomach flexing. His shaft is already slick, coated with precum from when he was grinding against my stomach, and I squeeze tightly as I glide my hand up and down in a deliberate movement.

Then I release him and bring my fingers to my own mouth, holding his gaze as I draw my tongue up the length of each one.

Kian freezes as he watches me, his body going as still and tense as a predator’s.

Then something in him seems to snap.

With a noise that’s barely even human, he lifts me by my legs, slamming my back against the tree again as he holds my thighs open and drives into me, burying himself to the hilt in one hard thrust.

He wasn’t lying about how fucking wet I am, but my body still has to stretch to accommodate his thick girth, and the sudden feeling of fullness forces the air from my lungs. My head tips back, hitting the tree trunk with a dull thunk that I would probably feel if all my nerve endings weren’t so attuned to the man fucking me.

Without giving me any time to adjust, he draws out and thrusts back inside, grunting like an animal as he fucks me into the rough bark of the tree. He does it again and again, pulling out so far that my body feels empty and bereft before slamming back inside and filling me to the brink again.

My arms wrap around his shoulders, my legs hooking around his waist as pleasure flares inside me again. My clit is still pulsing from the aftershocks of my first orgasm, but my body seems to care as little as Kian does that I just came.

Even though I’m so oversensitive that each brush against my clit is a mixture of pleasure and pain, I’m going to come again. It’s not going to take all that long either.

My eyelids droop, and I start to bury my face in Kian’s neck as I try to ride out the torrent of sensations. But he lifts one hand away from my leg, keeping me pinned between his massive body and the tree as he grabs a fistful of my hair, wrapping it around his hand.

“Don’t you dare fucking hide from me,” he grunts, driving into me again and hitting a spot inside me that makes me gasp. “Let me see you. Look at me.”

I don’t want to look at him. I don’t want to let him see all the things inside me that our rough fuck has laid bare, and I don’t want to see those things in him either. But as our gazes lock, I find that I can’t look away from his dark eyes. I’m falling into their depths, lost in the fierce, possessive need that burns deep within them.

And I don’t know if it’s the look on his face or the way he drives in so deep that I feel like he might shatter me, but the orgasm that’s been building in me finally explodes.

I yank against his tight grip on my hair as my body convulses in his arms, and Kian’s thrusts become harder and more erratic, his pelvis slapping against mine as he fucks me like an animal.

The muscles in his neck stand out, straining under his tanned skin as he lets out a guttural cry. His cock thickens and swells, and I clamp down harder around him, the ripples of my own release milking him of his.

“Fuck. So goddamn tight,” he grunts, thrusting into me again as another jet of hot cum fills my pussy. “So. Fucking. Good.”

He thrusts two more times, forcing himself deeper inside me even as my core squeezes him like a vise. I cling to his shoulders as he finally goes still, breathing hard as we both come down from the rush of our climaxes.

With his cock still buried inside me, Kian finally releases his grip on my hair. He nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck, his arms tightening around my waist until our sweat-soaked bodies can’t possibly get any closer. I press feather-light kisses along his hairline and temple, my fingertips swirling over his upper back, over the clenched muscles in his shoulders. I caress every part of him that I can reach, a reminder that I’m still here as he tries to chase his inner demons away.

I don’t want to let him go. Not yet. There’s a kind of vulnerability to him right now that calls to some deeply buried part of me. He doesn’t let this side of himself out, like, ever, which isn’t a healthy way to live. The longer he bottles this shit up, the more he’s going to explode like he did on that poor evergreen tree.

And I can feel that something is “off” inside him, even now.

The release he had with me wasn’t enough to erase the way he feels inside, and for some reason, I know that. I know it as surely as I know myself. No matter what I do, he’s going to harbor that anger and the gnawing feeling that he could have done better.

I don’t have an explanation for why I can sense his emotions so vividly, because as far as I know, we’re no longer bonded.

But if that’s the case, why can I feel this strong sense of despair from him? Why can I sense his emotions so clearly?

Pushing away those questions for the moment, I hold tight to him for a long while, ignoring the way the bark digs into my shoulders. The warmth of his body against mine is enough to make up for it. He’s worth the discomfort at my back, because for the first time in as long as I’ve known him, he’s fully here with me. All of him, all the good parts and the bad, nothing hidden or held back.

We probably aren’t entirely on the same page mentally or emotionally, but for the first time since our night in that hotel room in Montana, it feels like we’re close.

The heat between us finally begins to dissipate, and I become aware of the cool breeze again as it dries the sweat on my skin. After another few heartbeats, Kian pulls out of me, leaving me almost painfully empty. My body protests the loss of his thick cock as he gently guides me back to the ground on shaky knees.

He leans back and brushes my hair away from my face, studying me with an expression that, while still haunted, is a little less broken than it was before. His gaze roams intently over my face, as if he’s trying to memorize me or read something in my features.

I let him, because I’m looking at him too.

His emotions are squarely visible on his handsome face. The scar over his eye bunches from the tightness in his brow, and I recognize a pain in his gaze that mirrors my own. It reminds me that we’ve both lost people and lost parts of ourselves in the burdens we’ve carried. The quests that led us to each other.

He’s never let me in like this. He’s never let his walls down long enough for me to see the humanity in him. Maybe, as one of Quinton’s special pets, he never felt comfortable enough to do so. Quinton made them all feel subhuman. More monster than man.

But that’s not true.

I’ll convince them their old alpha was wrong, no matter what it takes.

Tags: Callie Rose Feral Shifters Paranormal
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