Page 77 of Primal Hunger
There is no universe that exists where the two of us can pursue whatever this is bubbling between us, to see where it leads. She certainly cannot bear me offspring. Our blood is likely incompatible, and if a miracle did occur, a Grim child would shred her from the inside before birth. It would never work.
So, I’ll help her enhance the radio, build whatever she needs to try and open a portal. Whatever she believes she needs in order to get home, even if I hold my breath and hope for her failure the entire time. If she cannot open a portal, she will have to stay with me, but I have to help her try.
If she does manage to make a connection, to open a portal between our worlds, I will abandon this hovel and move far away. I will find another place to set up a life for myself and, that way, when the portal opens again, it will be nowhere near her. Then, hopefully, I’ll be able to forget about Erin and the life that might have been between us.
I grimace in the darkness.
I am nothing but a fool, a sentimental fool, and I halfway wonder if I’ve always been this way or if it is a change thankssolely to her. She’s managed to get under my skin and alter me from the inside, without having to lift a finger.
Life will never be the same when she leaves and I’ll make it work, somehow.
Erin shifts in her sleep, snoring, making a soft sound I can’t stand because of how it makes me feel. This is ridiculous.
The thought of losing her is a crushing weight slowly splintering me into pieces.
My palm rests on her hip and I move it in small circles, massaging her until she lets out a small sigh. I need to feel her again. I need to feel something and make it last me for the rest of my immeasurably long existence.
Already, it feels like torment to imagine a world without her in it.
With most of her pants still in shreds, I hook my claw into the elastic of what’s left at the top and give it a tug. It pulls away easily. The velvety glide of her skin against my callouses makes my cock painfully hard and sends a growl of longing through me.
She continues to snore softly as my hand dances over her skin, and my desire to taste her swells. I dip my head, poking my tongue out to paint long licks down her neck and over her chest. I go slow, keeping my movements soft, so as not to wake her. I want to revel in this moment, drinking her in, tasting her, touching her while she sleeps.
Gently, I nudge her thighs apart, exposing her already dripping center. The scent of her arousal blooms around us, and my mouth waters, saliva dripping from my tongue and peppering her chest. I wonder if I could taste her without waking her, to sink my tongue into her channel and feel her flex around me.
My cock throbs painfully as I crawl down her form, settling between her legs. I stare up at her sleeping face over the gentle curves of her body, waiting until I hear her soft snores tocontinue. When I’m sure I haven’t woken her, I drag my tongue through her wet folds, lapping up the sweet taste of her arousal. My cock throbs, weeping precum onto the stone floor. My teeth brush against her skin as I work my tongue over her.
I move slowly, torturing myself in the process, as I taste every inch of her. I poke and prod at her channel, slipping my wet muscle inside her to brush against her walls, and a whine slips past her lips. I groan at the noise, desire ripping through me. My instincts urge me to take her, to claim her, to bury my cock inside her, and I will. But not yet. Not until I’ve savored the taste of her, committed it to memory, and felt her orgasm around my tongue while she slumbers.
It doesn’t take long. After a few short minutes of massaging her with my tongue, she comes undone. Her muscles flex around me, choking my tongue while I continue to explore her depths, and a soft, prolonged moan dances up her throat.
After her climax subsides, I crawl back up her body and settle with my hips between hers, my cock painfully erect and eager to feel her wrapped around me. My cock is much larger than my tongue, so I doubt she’ll be able to sleep through me fucking her even if I go slow, but I’m intent to try.
How will she react when she wakes up to find me inside of her? Will she be afraid? Will she urge me to go faster?
I notch the head of my cock at her opening and gently apply pressure until it slips inside. She stretches around me, her pussy perfectly conforming to my shape, and I slowly bury myself deeper. Inch by agonizing inch.
I dip my head to brush my snout against the side of her neck, breathing in her essence as I slowly pull out and thrust forward again. A delicate whine passes her lips when I bury myself, deeper this time, inside of her, and her eyes flutter open.
“Syros…” Her voice is gentle, reverent like a prayer to a higher being.
“Shhh…” I hiss softly, pulling out and pressing into her again. Her walls flutter around my cock, her pussy milking me, begging for more. “I just want to feel you again. One more time, little human. I want to remember the feel of you long after you’re gone. Will you let me?”
She nods sleepily, and her eyes drift closed again. It takes every shred of my self control to maintain my excruciatingly slow, deliberate pace, but I manage. I take my time, licking and nipping carefully at her skin while I fill her with my cock.
This isn’t like the previous times my cock has been inside her, when I lost myself to my primal instincts and could only think about filling her with my seed. This is slower, more intimate, more meaningful. While I can’t put a name to it, I can feel it down to my marrow. The way she reacts, running her fingers gently over my skin, sighing with every touch tells me she feels the same way.
If she were my mate, this is how things would be all the time. Taking my time, savoring her, relishing in her touch.
However, seeing as she’s not—and can never be—my mate, it’s a bittersweet way to say goodbye.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Erin
This world has its wonders no matter what Syros says.
