I didn’t want to break eye contact but I was too curious to get a look at him. He was perfect. A tantalizing size enclosed in soft skin. Rigid, exemplary. Then again, my knowledge was very limited. The only other penis I had seen in my life other than Severen, Crux, and artsy movies.
Leaning in, I closed my lips around him and sucked on the very tip of the head. Being with him felt natural, as easy as with my mates. I got the sense that he felt the same about being with me. I danced my tongue along the head of his penis, and went down, taking more of his length in my mouth, caressing the shaft with the flat of my tongue. I didn’t try to hold back any saliva, and I let it dribble down and slick up the rest of him so that my hand could glide up and down smoothly. I went back up, and down again, making certain to stimulate every inch of Rowan’s manhood.
He didn’t touch me. He didn’t have to. I looked up through my lashes at him as I bobbed my head and hands up and down along his shaft, desiring nothing more than to give him the pleasure he had given me, but ten times stronger.
As I continued, Rowan’s knot grew bigger and I took my time. One hand worked the shaft while the other massaged and squeezed the bulging knot that I eagerly anticipated taking up all the space inside me, soon. The way my fingers splayed and rolled along it caused a fresh puddle of slick to spread under me.
I watched his face, the flush and sweat of his skin, the flex of his tight stomach, how it all grew in intensity as I brought my new alpha closer and closer to his breaking point. His scent filledthe room, complimenting mine as our auras mingled and our budding connection grew stronger.
The ghost of his clove scent was like firecrackers on my tongue and when he came it was a warm, spiced cream that I was happy to swallow every last drop. As he came down, I stroked and bobbed slower, guiding him back to the present. I came up for air with a gasp and smiled coquettishly at him.
“I want to try something I’ve never done before,” I began. “You’re not too tired, yet, are you?” I teased.
Rowan shook his head with a dreamy grin. “Tired? With you, I could go all night.”
At that, I straddled his legs, scooted up his thighs and leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t shy away from his own taste as his tongue slipped past my lips and explored. There we sat, enjoying our make out session. I leaned down, the head of his still-hard cock grazing between my breasts, tracing the track of my scar.
I took Rowan’s hands into each of my own and guided them to my breasts, each filling his palm comfortably. I lead him to gently press them toward each other, smothering his dick in the warm, slippery, soft world of my breasts, his knot kneaded on all sides by their pillowiness. A feathery scar, hot skin and a re-woven ribcage was all that was between Rowan and what was left of Indigo.
My hands remained over his as we massaged his length with my breasts. I moved, he thrust lightly, and I let,wantedhim to fuck my chest, my scars, my damage. We wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for my damage, my hurts, his pain, his loss, Indigo’s sacrifice.
The heart in my chest pounded against my ribs, and the rhythm of our bodies went in time with it. It was the most natural rhythm in the world, the cadence that everything in the universe moved to, a universe where the only things that mattered were him and I.
I pushed my shoulders back and jutted out my chest, then craned my neck and kissed him. He kissed back hungerly as he fucked my chest with thrusts that were growing stronger, like he was marking his territory, claiming what was his to claim.
The expression on Rowan’s face shifted. He was close to his peak. I was delighted that I could recognize when he was near the brink of his pleasure, and that I alone could take him there. I leaned up, wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. I pushed him back onto the mattress until he was laying down under me. I moved up his body to straddle him once more. After I had settled, I wrapped my hand around his cock, held it upright, and hovered over it. My slick dripped onto it like I was a leaf after a rainstorm draining dew. I lowered down and took in just the tip. Rowan looked into my eyes. The bite between my shoulder blades felt how sweetness tastes.
Every inch of Rowan sank into me until his knot was pressed to my entrance. I moved, grinding against that hearty knot, riding him, his slick-soaked shaft making it so easy. My pleasure grew, fostered by the sensations deep within me.
He grabbed me. I was on my back again. He slammed into me, and I wrapped all my limbs around him, holding as tightly as I could like I was afraid something would rip us away from each other. I breathed in his scent and my mouth watered, my heart fluttered. He kissed me, and that calmed something inside me and allowed me to ease my hold on him. I was close, and I could sense that he was, too.
I shivered as his pendant grazed my scar again, so light and delicate, like the kiss from a snowflake against my warmed skin. As it swayed nearer to me I caught the chain between my teeth and bit down, keeping it close, leashing Rowan to me, and making sure the charm stayed near my heart.
Then, Rowan’s knot barely gave resistance as my body instinctively coveted the entirety of him. And we were one.
I felt complete in the same way I did with my mates, the fulfillment of an absence I never notice until it’s not even there anymore. Waves of something too strong to be called pleasure erupted through us both as Rowan released into me, bathing me with his essence, marking a sacred place where very few have ever ventured.
I could have cried. I think I almost did.
Chapter 49
SKYE
Theatmosphereofthehouse was alive with voices. Jackal’s pack was here for our bi-weekly get together. It was good for Crux to reconnect with his brother, and for Halo to get to know another female alpha, a pack lead, no less! Raine, the third alpha of the pack, was rather quiet and kept to himself, but Caira was pretty much the coolest omega I had ever met. We all got along very well, we just sort of clicked.
A passionate, but good natured debate about a band was blazing back and forth around the dining table as I was slicing up the huge watermelon that Crux had saturated with vodka. I cut it up perfectly, one of the few remaining lessons from my mother. How to be a good hostess.
I took another drink of my ice water, and swiped the back of my hand over my brow. It was an exceptionally warm day. I couldn’t resist a slice of the watermelon, it looked so inviting, cool and juicy. I selected a piece and bit in. Watermelon juice and vodka dribbled down my chin as I chewed the tender fruit. It practically dissolved on my tongue. Instant relief washed through me. I wolfed down the rest of the slice, tossed the rind, then washed my hands of the stickiness in the sink.
But the Summer warmth returned immediately. I picked up a stack of paper plates, and turned to the table.
A spike of hot, burning pain hit me, low and deep, directly in my core. The paper plates scattered across the kitchen tiles as I held myself and dropped to my knees.
“Hehh–” I wheezed.
Everyone was up on their feet, chairs toppled over with a clatter. Rowan and Severen were at my side.
“What is it?” Severen asked. “Is it your heart?”
