Page 121 of Alien God

There was no holding back, no tenderness in his movements. Thank God, because that isn’t what I wanted anyway. I didn’t want his control. I wanted abandon. Oblivion.

Wylf’s mouth closed around the front of my throat, sucking hard, fangs grazing my skin, so close to biting down it made ecstatic fear turn bright and erotic inside me. I quaked everywhere – my arms as I looped them around his neck, my legs, and inside my core. He was so big, filled me so full, that my pussy couldn’t fully contract around him. He barely pulled out with each thrust, as if he couldn’t bear not to be inside me, which meant the pressure never let up, not even for a second. I wanted to come, to clench, but couldn’t, my muscles too overwhelmed by him, until I was sobbing with the need for release. Wylfrael kissed up to my tear-stained cheeks, trying to soothe me even as his cock strained deeper, the stars on his shaft creating tiny vibrations that echoed everywhere.

“Wylf,” I keened between sobs, “I need... I need...”

One of his hands dug beneath my dress, slipping along my groin until his thumb met my throbbing clit. He rubbed it in merciless circles, sliding through the wetness of my arousal as white-hot sensation expanded along the base of my spine. His thumb was as brutal as his cock, which left me wildly disoriented when his half-whispered, half-moaned words filtered into my brain.

“Little bride, beautiful little bride. Cursed stars, you don’t know how I’ve wanted you.”

My eyes fluttered closed as I completely gave myself over to him. I let the tension sag out of my legs, relying only on him to hold me up as he fucked me. I collapsed onto his chest, my forehead in the crook of his neck.

“Beautiful bride, Torrance, beloved, I-”

His words broke off in a snarl. I felt him throb inside, felt him explode, felt the groan that ripped out of him deep in my body. He pumped hard, the rock of his hips timed to every pulse and spurt. His mouth was open against my cheek as he swore, or maybe beseeched, “Save me.”

I’d heard the phrase before. The full saying was, Sionnach save me, an emotionally charged version of the more common saying, Sionnach preserve me. But he hadn’t managed all the words.

It sounded like he was asking me to save him. And I fucking wanted to. Wanted to save him from me and from himself.

But he wouldn’t let me.

I knew it, knew that he wouldn’t let me as I found release, every nerve winding up tight then whirling like tops let loose on a table. My muscles finally gained traction against him, clamping down with a vengeance, sealing him inside. The movement of his hips became less blindingly urgent and more sensual, languid, rolling endlessly, drawing out my orgasm until I cried again, but this time with pleasure.

Soon, everything slowed, until the only movement was the sleigh gliding along. Steadying my breathing and my shaking limbs, I lifted myself until Wylfrael slipped out. I pushed off of him, falling heavily onto the bench beside him, my skirt snagging on broken crystal.

“Torrance-”

“We should go back,” I interrupted.

But even as he turned the sleigh around, I knew that we couldn’t.

Not really.

Not anymore.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

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