Page 135 of Tempt

He groans, his cock jerking between us, and I growl, thrusting my tongue into his mouth and down his throat before pulling back.

I want to watch him take my rut. All of it.

My hands tighten against his waist, my claws digging into his skin. I know he will bleed, but his lust for me is overpowering any pain he feels. Instead, he clenches around me, his hole begging for more.

So I give it to him. My arms lift him off me and slam him back down.

His cock erupts, and his head falls back, his throat bobbing as I take him, small glorious moans leaving his beautiful mouth. The scent of his cum dripping down our bodies makes my mouth water.

I want him to come for me again, and I do not stop. The fever pitch of it is almost too much. All I can feel is him, his wet, tight hole holding me inside of him so perfectly as I thrust up into him.

You are perfect. My Luca. Perfect.

More, he replies. More.

I will give him what he wants, our bodies meeting in the most obscene way, the sound his wet hole makes as I push in and out of it making me more and more crazed. And those little sounds erupting from his mouth each time I thrust up…

Then he comes again, this time more powerful, his hole clenching around me as he shivers and quakes in my arms.

It overwhelms all of my senses.

I find myself tumbling over, my release met with a roar that rattles the house behind us. I fill him, my cum pulsing into his body, my seed wanting a place to settle, to breed.

My knot expands, linking us together as it grows until I’m filling him, stretching him to his limits, pumping him full of my essence. I have never experienced this kind of pleasure, of taking what is so clearly mine. My eyes close, and I black out for a moment, my entire body shaking, my skin fluttering as I release into him over and over.

He falls against my shoulder, his body shaking as his cock spills once more, his fingernails digging into my skin as he holds on. It is not over, my rut merely satiated for a moment. This will go on for at least the rest of the day, my cocks needing his hole for release. Over and over I will take him, my biology wanting to breed him.

His lips brush against my skin as he wiggles in my arms, a gasp leaving his lips. I should not have taken him here where anyone could have seen, but I could not help myself. I turn and carefully carry him to my bedroom, his throat ejecting small moans with each step I take, my knot catching on his rim.

But he does not hate it. No, he enjoys being knotted to me.

Of course he does. He is mine.

My Luca.

And I am his.

twenty-eight

LUCA

I can still taste the bitterness of the herb on my tongue as Eissa settles me onto the bed, his body beneath mine, that knot on his cock splitting me open deliciously. I’ve heard about the herb and the Vyastil’s rut from Everest and Dante, and I had no idea how it would feel until…

Oh god. It’s so good.

My cheek is on his chest, listening to his hearts thrum beneath me.

What are you thinking about, my Luca? he asks, prodding into my mind.

I don’t mind the question in Eretharian. It is soothing to my mind in a way, so unlike the spoken English words he sometimes uses.

How good it was, I tell him. How I want more.

His fingers clench against my sides, and I feel the rumble beneath me. You will have more. My rut is not over. It will last a full cycle and then cease.

And then?

And then you will be free.