Page 27 of Betraying the Beast

He pressed a single clawed finger to her lips. “No more words, Ceryn Vale. Not tonight.”

She flinched, but didn’t look away. Didn’t protest. Instead, her hand rose, trembled slightly, and cupped his cheek. Her fingers slid into his fur, the touch reverent, aching.

“Then let there be this,” she whispered.

Her kiss was raw, bruising, wet with unshed tears and fierce need. He growled against her mouth, his control unraveling by the second. She was heat and heartbreak and urgency all at once, her body arching into him, her mouth opening beneath his with a moan that cut straight through his fury.

His hands found her waist, dragging her up against him. She gasped as the thick ridge of his arousal pressed hard between them, already demanding, already starved. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he lifted her easily, carrying her through the fire-lit corridors until they reached his chamber.

They shed their clothes in silence. Her gown slipped to the floor, baring skin he had worshipped with reverence and would now claim with desperation. Her nipples peaked in the cool air, her thighs slick with arousal, already glistening as she reached to stroke him—long, slow, deliberate. His cock throbbed in her hand, a thick, veined beast of its own, and her lips parted in awe even as she guided him to the bed.

He laid her down gently, but there was nothing gentle in the hunger that followed. His mouth found her breasts, suckling one while his hand rolled the other, drawing cries from her throat as his fangs grazed her skin. She arched into him, needy and fearless, legs falling open in invitation.

He moved lower, spreading her with clawed fingers to bare the swollen folds of her sex, then dragged his tongue through her, groaning as she gasped and writhed beneath him. He suckled her clit slowly, torturously, until her hips bucked. Then faster. Her hands clenched in his hair, her thighs trembled around his head, and she came with a strangled cry, already unraveling before he even took her.

“Again,” he growled, kissing his way up her belly. “I want to feel you on my cock.”

She shuddered as he guided himself to her entrance and drove in with a single, deep thrust. She cried out, her hands clawing down his back as her body stretched to take him. Full. Too full. And yet, perfect.

He fucked her hard, relentless, claiming every inch of her with each powerful stroke. The bed creaked beneath them. Her breasts bounced with the rhythm, her nails raked down his furred chest, and he leaned down to take her lips again, swallowing her moans as he thrust deeper, faster.

But there was no laughter tonight. No whispered praise. No shy confessions.

Only the slap of flesh, the tangle of limbs, and the grief behind every thrust.

A single tear slid from the corner of her eye. He caught it with his thumb.

“Look at me,” he said, his pace slowing. “If this is the last time, give me the truth of your eyes.”

She met his gaze—startled, guilty, and then something softer. Something like love, if they’d had time.

“How did you?—”

“I know betrayal,” he murmured, thrusting again, deeper, the motion a dark promise. “I’ve tasted it across centuries. I feel its weight now even in your kiss.”

Her breath caught. “It’s not—” she began.

“Isn’t it?” His voice darkened, hips snapping into hers. “You met his man. You carry his dagger. You bring me your body like an offering for forgiveness.”

She didn’t argue. She only pulled him closer, wrapped her legs tighter, whispered a wordless plea.

He moved harder now, faster, driving her toward the edge again. “Tell me what you’ve done. What you plan to do. Tell me if you’ll go to him.”

But she was breaking already—trembling beneath him, her breath coming in sobs, her pussy clenching around him in pulsing waves.

“I—” she gasped.

He silenced her with his mouth, kissing her as she shattered around him, her cry muffled against his lips.

Then came the words, soft and broken, as he thrust deep one final time, spilling into her with a roar that left the windows rattling.

“Forgive me. Please.”

He buried his face in her throat as the last wave of pleasure wracked his body, his arms trembling, breath ragged. The beast inside him howled in grief and joy, torn by the sweetness of having her and the agony of losing her.

Later, they lay tangled together in silence. Her breath slowed. Her lashes fluttered against his skin.

Vael’Zhur pressed a kiss to her forehead.

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