Page 23 of Bonded By Stone & Blood

She lifts her hips and takes more. Her walls clench around the intrusion, slick and scorching and unbearably snug. I feel every ridge and pulse of her body wrapped around the first half of my girth. Her eyes go wide at the stretch of it.

"Tell me how it feels," she breathes.

"Like I am trying to remember how to be careful," I say, "when everything in me wants to bury myself in you completely."

She blushes violently and doesn't look away.

I drop my gaze. Her breasts are pressed together between her arms, full and flushed, nipples hard and drawn tight. The sight undoes what little remained of my composure.

"May I?"

She nods.

I lower my mouth and take one nipple between my lips, rolling my tongue against the stiffened peak slowly, drawing it deeper until she gasps. And while she is distracted by the wet heat of my mouth I push another inch inside her. The added stretch pulls a choked sound from her throat. I feel the give of her body accommodating me — reluctant, then yielding — her slick walls parting around my cock with a tightness that borders on agony for us both.

I palm her other breast — soft and more than I can hold, spilling over my fingers — and squeeze with restrained hunger. She arches into both points of contact simultaneously, hips rolling upward, and that instinctive movement drives another inch home.

"Look at me," I tell her.

She does.

"I won't last," I murmur against her breast, dragging my tongue across the underside of it before taking the nipple again. "You're too tight. Too warm."

"Then be gentle," she says, but her hips are still moving — rocking in small, restless circles, working herself onto the remaining length by degrees, as if her body has decided independently what it wants regardless of what her mouth is saying.

I raise my eyes to hers and answer her the only way that matters, by pressing the full remaining length home in one slow, devastating push. My slightly curved cock seats itself completely inside her, the thick head pressing deep against the end of her. And I feel the moment her body receives all of me, the way herwalls flutter in shock, the way her breath punches out of her entirely.

Her eyes go wide. Her mouth opens around a soundless gasp. Her thighs clamp against my hips reflexively, heels pressing into the backs of my thighs as if trying to hold me in place, or brace against me, she doesn't seem to know which.

I pull back slowly. Inch by inch. Feeling every ridge of her drag against my cock on the way out — the wet, clinging resistance of her, the obscene slick sound of it — until only the head remains inside and her hips are already chasing me back.

She exhales my name.

I do it again. Slow and deep and deliberate, angling my hips slightly on the return thrust so the curve of my cock drags along the softest part of her inner wall. She jolts. Her fingers claw into my forearms.

"There," she breathes, barely audible. "Right — there?—"

My hips memorize the exact angle. The depth. The way her body clenches hungrily around me every time I find that spot. I press my mouth to her breast again and suck hard at her nipple and she arches completely off the bedding, driving herself further onto my cock, and the combined sensation rips a genuine moan from my chest.

"Don't stop," she gasps. "Don't you dare?—"

I reach beneath her and grip both cheeks of her buttocks and tilt her hips upward, opening her at a new angle. The change in position sinks me deeper than before and she cries out, sharp and unguarded, and I pause.

"Too much?"

"More." Her gray eyes are dark and glassy. "I dare you."

I squeeze her backside hard and begin to move in earnest.

The pace builds quickly — each thrust deeper than the last, hips snapping forward with increasing force, the wet heat of her swallowing me completely every time I sink home.

The sound of it fills the cave — skin against skin, her broken breathing, the low continuous growl vibrating through my sternum that I can’t seem to stop. I can feel the slick of her coating the full length of me, can feel the way her walls grip and release with every stroke, fluttering tighter as I go faster, her body climbing toward something she can't hold back.

I wrap both hands fully around her buttocks and use the grip to pull her onto me as I thrust forward. Hitting the end of her on every stroke now, and her head tips back and she is no longer trying to muffle herself.

Her entire body locks. Her walls clench around me — tight, rhythmic, devastating — and she calls my name in a broken voice that strips whatever restraint I had left entirely to ash.

I bury myself to the hilt and hold there as the release tears through me, crashing through every vein, every stone seam, every layer of the ancient earth magic that makes up what I am. I groan into the curve of her shoulder with a force that shakes my own frame. She grips my arms and holds on and doesn't let go.