Page 74 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
“You’re mine,” he said again and took another lick of my blood as if to illustrate. “I’ll fuck you however I see fit. Unless”—he raised his eyebrows and the touch at my arse ceased—“you want to tell me to stop?”
I could barely swallow, my mouth had gone so dry. Speech was out of the question. I shook my head.
“Good girl.”
His tail slid inside me, just a little, but it drew my back in a tight arch and a soft moan from my lips. He withdrew entirely, probed a little deeper, then repeated the process again, watching me all the while.
A new kind of pleasure unfurled in me. Darker. Deeper. I couldn’t say whether it was because he touched me somewhere new or because of the sharp point of his attention aimed at me.
“There, see. You take your punishment so well, Zita.” With a smirk, he lowered to me.
Tongue and tail, he fucked me.
I stood no chance.
It wasn’t the fullness I craved, but with him inside both parts of me, it came closer. Besides, the flex of his tongue pressing upon the front wall of my pussy hit a spot that was better than fullness.
Every breath whimpering, I tilted into his invasion, welcoming it, wanting it, falling apart upon it.
He split me into a hundred pieces, a thousand, a million, each of them a blazing sun that seared away all else.
I was a quivering, panting wreck when he stood, licking his lips, his tail still inside me.
“That’s three, but I don’t want to pull you apart as much as I did last night.” He stood over me, looking down his nose, every inch the arrogant, cruel prince.
I hated that this was the face he wore when he’d just done this to me. He hadn’t lost himself as I had. He hadn’t forgotten his hate as he’d soared to a blinding peak as I had.
“Is that it?” I scoffed. “Is that the best you’ve got?” I hooked my heels around his hips before he could back away. “You’re not even going to fuck me? You coward.”
He froze.
The eyes that locked on mine weren’t as cool and detached as the ones that had just looked down on me.
They were golden flame. Hatred. Rage. Desire that couldn’t help trailing over my oil-slicked breasts.
“Go on. Prove that you own me.” I unfastened the top button of his trousers.
He didn’t stop me.
I kept unbuttoning.
His nostrils flared as his chest heaved. That muscle in his jaw ticked.
I drank it all up until I had his length free. I took my time, closing my hand around it.
Smooth soft skin. I had my answer. The end was already slick with his own moisture, which I palmed and spread down his length, adding my other hand.
He shuddered. “Fuck you.”
“Promises, promises.”
He gripped my wrists, tight as a vice. “You want me, Zita? Fine.” He held my hands in place and thrust into them, the tip of his cock nudging my stomach, painting me with his sticky residue. When I tilted my hips, its base slid along my clit and his tail thrust into my arse in time, seizing my breath. “But you’ll have memyway.”
His cheeks flushed as his hips rolled into the space between my legs. I couldn’t help watching his thick shaft thrust into my hands, wanting it inside me. That and his tail? I wasn’t sure I could take both, but, fuck, I would try.
Eyebrows clenched together, he fucked my hands and glared at me.
I grinned right back, body gripped by feral delight as I watched him fall away piece by piece.
