Page 12 of Burned Alive to Be His
The words, so quiet, so defiant, are the final spark. The control I pride myself on, the warrior’s discipline, shatters. A red haze of pure, primal rage descends. All I see is her defiance. All I feel is the overwhelming, instinctual need to dominate. To prove her wrong in the most fundamental way possible. To break her will and brand her as mine.
I lunge.
She is fast, but I am faster. I catch her before she can even fully scramble to her feet. My hand clamps around her arm, my fingers digging into her fragile bones. I rip the blade from her grasp and fling it into the darkness. It clatters uselessly against the far wall.
She struggles, a wild thing caught in a trap, her small fists beating against my chest. It is like being struck by moths. I wrap my other arm around her waist and lift her, slamming her back against the cold, hard wall of the cave. The impact knocks a sharp gasp from her lungs. I press my body against hers, pinning her, my strength an overwhelming, undeniable truth.
“You aremine,” I hiss, my face inches from hers. Her scent fills my senses, a heady mix of fear and that unique, earthy warmth. It is intoxicating. It fuels the fire in my blood. “You belong to me. Your body. Your breath. Your defiance. All of it is mine.”
Her eyes are wide with terror, but even now, she does not look away. She glares at me, her chest heaving. It is the most alive I have ever seen her.
My hand slides from her arm to her jaw, my thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone, the small, jagged scar on her lip. Her skin is soft, a shocking contrast to the hard, scaled world I know. My own body responds with a violence that really has nothing to do with anger. A thick, heavy lust, hot and demanding, pools in my groin.
I lower my head, my lips brushing against hers. She flinches, trying to turn her head, but I hold her fast. “You will learn your place, little human,” I murmur against her mouth.
Then I kiss her.
It is not a kiss of tenderness. It is an invasion. A claiming. I force her lips apart, my tongue plunging into her mouth, tasting her fear, her desperation. She is stiff and unresponsive at first, a frozen statue of terror. But I am a dragon. I am fire and heat and relentless will. I plunder her mouth, my hand sliding from her jaw down the slender column of her throat, my thumb pressing against the frantic, fluttering pulse at its base.
And then, something shifts.
A small, broken sound escapes her throat, a whimper that is half-protest, half-surrender. Her body, the traitor, begins to respond. A fine tremor runs through her, a vibration that has little to do with the cold. Her lips, so resistant a moment ago, soften under mine. Her hands, which were pushing against my chest, now cling to my scaled forearms, her fingers digging in.
I feel the change in her, and a savage, triumphant roar builds in my chest. I break the kiss, my breath coming in harsh pants. My gaze drifts to her. Her eyes are dazed, her lips swollen and wet from my kiss. Her body is still pressed against mine, and I can feel the subtle, unmistakable signs of her arousal.
“Your mind may defy me,” I growl, my voice thick with lust. “But your body knows the truth. It knows its master.”
I slide my hand down, over the curve of her hip, and cup her between her legs, my fingers pressing against the thin linen of her tunic. She is wet. Soaking. A hot, slick heat that proves her body’s betrayal. She gasps, her eyes widening, a flush of shame and desire coloring her cheeks.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” I command, my fingers moving, rubbing against her through the fabric. “Lie to me.”
A broken moan escapes her lips, and her hips give a small, involuntary jerk against my hand. “Please…” she whispers, the word a ragged plea.
“Please what?” I demand, my own control stretched to its breaking point. My cock is a thick, hard length against my breeches, aching with a need that is becoming an agony. “Beg me for it. Beg me to take what is mine.”
I don’t wait for an answer. I tear at the front of her tunic, the cheap fabric ripping with a satisfying sound. Her small, pale breasts are bared to the cool night air, her nipples hard and beaded. I lower my head and take one into my mouth, my tongue laving the peak, my teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.
She cries out, a sharp, keening sound that is pure, unadulterated pleasure. Her back arches, pressing her body more fully against mine. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, her nails scraping against my scales.
This is what I wanted. This is the submission I craved. But as I feel her body come alive beneath me, as I taste her surrender on my tongue, it is not enough. I need more. I need to be inside her. I need to fill her, to brand her from the inside out.
I lift her easily, my arms hooking under her legs, and carry her to the ursain pelt I brought for her. I lay her down on the thick, soft fur, her body a pale offering in the darkness. I stand over her for a moment, drinking in the sight of her. Her ripped tunic, her bared skin, the wild look in her eyes. She is a beautiful, broken thing. And she is mine.
I unlace my breeches, freeing my thick, hard length. She stares at it, her eyes widening further, a flicker of her earlier fear returning.
“Do not be afraid,” I say, my voice softer than I intended. “Your body was made for this. It was made for me.”
I come down over her, settling my weight between her legs. I part her with my knee, exposing her slick, waiting heat to the cool air. She is ready for me. So ready.
I guide the tip of my cock to her entrance. She is so small, so tight. I push, just a little, and she gasps, her eyes fluttering shut.
“Look at me,” I command.
Her eyes open, dark and dazed, locking with mine.
“You will watch as I take you,” I say, voice rumbling. I push forward, slowly, relentlessly, stretching her, filling her. It is a tight, perfect fit. She moans, a long, low sound of pain and pleasure entwined.
I am fully seated inside her now, her body sheathing mine, her inner muscles clenching around me. I stay still for a moment, letting us both adjust to the feeling. It is… overwhelming. A connection so intense, so primal, it threatens to shatter my control completely.
