Page 124 of Griffin Food

As I move above her in an age-old rhythm of surge and retreat, her slick walls caressing my length and lips against my throat, I understand that this is my home. My forever home. Her, Lark, Atlas, Darrion, Fenix, the eyrie.

This fucking nest.

All of it. Home.

There is a war coming. But the war is not here, now, and today. The war is not impacting us in this nest. In this moment, we are safe.

And I am inside her. Thrusting into her. Filling her over and over again.

A sudden wave of heat sweeps down my spine. Sweat pops out across the surface of my skin. I’m close. So close. I slide my hand under her ass to nudge the angle. Her lips pop open, and she emits the filthiest of moans.

“There. That’s the spot, isn’t it?” I breathe against her throat.

Her answer comes in the form of another deep, breathy moan.

I keep my strokes steady, making sure I hit the little sensitive bundle of nerves with every thrust. Her nails score my back. My cock tingles the entire length as I fight to hold back my release. Just a few more thrusts, and she will come, and I can let go and come with her.

“Oh, Rafe. Oh. Oh, Goddess, yes!”

Her cry is accompanied by the sudden sweet fisting of her pussy over me. My world narrows, then is jacked up in a state of acute confusion. I’m still thrusting, but everything is suddenly extra tight. She is still coming over me.

I can’t stop.

And I know I should. Some distant warning bell is telling me that something is very, very wrong.

But as I push one last time into her impossibly tight pussy, a climax to eclipse all climaxes rips through me.

My heartbeat is loud in my ears. A sound leaves my lips, like an animal’s roar. Only I am no animal, latent or otherwise.

I try to pull out, but it’s too late. She is coming again, gripping me. An electric current runs through me, locking me on the edge of ecstasy. Caught out of time and space, I dump batch after batch of scalding seed.

Chapter Forty-Two

Violet

Rafe has knotted me.

I know what that feels like now, for Lark has a knot.

Euphoria and confusion grip me in equal parts. Only malaise is creeping into the sanctuary of my nest, much like my sister’s army on the horizon.

His skin is burning hot when he presses against me and slick with sweat.

His teeth are embedded in my throat.

I taste blood.

My blood.

His blood.

The knot bombards my pleasure center even as I try to breathe.

When did I stop breathing?

Suddenly, he is wrestled away. I cry out at the loss, and am desolate in the wake of the empty hollow feeling. The room is very crowded. Beating wings. A snarl.

“I’ve got you.”