Page 70 of Ravenous

“But I canna!” He started to pull away.

Her claws bit into the damp muscles of his back, and her tail struck—sliding between his muscular cheeks, prodding, pressing—and then in.

Sunk home.

He roared. His cock jerked and his first jet of seed hit her throat, hot and thick. She swallowed greedily as his body convulsed, shaking the bars. The mighty king’s roar continued, gaining intensity as it seemed to echo over the entire Skein.

She milked him with her fist and her hollowed cheeks until his legs nearly gave.

Better.

Once she’d emptied spurt after spurt of his delicious Lykae semen, she gave him a last lick and withdrew her tail to the music of his stunned groan.

Wary and seeming psychically injured, he said between ragged breaths, “You just…you…”

“I know.” She rose smoothly, triumphant. “You did say I could play with your body all I wanted. Sometimes I play rough.”

He looked wrecked—shocked, gorgeous, undone. His mouth worked as he cast about for speech. “Yourtail.”

“Gave you a tentacular orgasm? Yes. Thank me with a gift of Craigdúr cattle.” She donned his coat with a defiant look.Mine.She refused to relinquish her masturbatory aid.

He clenched the bars, looking like he’d break through them to seize her. “Doona go. It’s no’ safe for you in the Witchwood!”

“We both came, our standoff at an end. Of course I’ll go.” She laughed. “You see, tonight has changed nothing in me, which means you’re all alone in hell.”

His eyes glowed wolf blue with disappointment in her, this hungry king who’d begunto hope. Which didn’t affect her. At all.

Over her shoulder, she called, “A herd, Thane. I’ll expect at least a herd. You know I’m worth it.”

Once she was out of sight, his gut-wrenching howl shook the night, raw with longing.

Chapter 29Lowell

“I canna believe Ditch found you on the Mount,” he said, seated across from Thane’s desk not long after moonset. “Had you told her she’s yours?”

“Nay.” The king leaned back in his chair, whiskey untouched, eyes shadowed by a restless light. “But she figured it out.”

“Well? Is the claiming as good as they say?” Lowell asked, half jesting, half curious.

He wasn’t convinced matehood was the apex of existence. Not after his nights with Meera.

A shapely, ireful witch who made him high with fury and near fucking.

Their evenings of talking, quarreling, and heavy petting had left him panting after her like a stag in rut. But…she wasn’t his mate. Under the full moon last night, he’d kept his beast leashed and fulfilled his duties with Straegan.

So why do I still want her so much?

“My mate bears no claiming mark upon her neck,” Thane said, glancing toward the window, where the morning’s sea fog pressed thick against the glass.

“She dinna surrender?” Lowell raised a brow. Few females resisted Thane’s legendary prowess.

“Nay. She foiled my plans and bested me.” He shifted in his seat. And again. “Her loyalty to her kind makes her surrender impossible.” Lykae revered loyalty, and Thane couldn’t hide the admiration in his words. “But I’ll find a way to have her. Nothing will stop me.” Whatever had passed between king and witchhad only deepened his fixation. “My mam used to say that finding one’s mate is like discovering an interlocking soul. I thought her fanciful. Yet each minute with my witch proves her right.”

Lowell bit back a disrespectful quip about mass delusions. Lykae were taught matehood as a religion; no wonder they found transcendence in it.

Did he believe certain scents were more attractive than others, perhaps one above all? Aye. Had his own parents found great happiness together? Aye.

Yet this fated bond still made a lone wolf like Lowell scratch his head. The only way to understand it was to experience it.Sounds religious to me.