Page 74 of The Reaper's Vow
I feel him position himself at my entrance, the thick head of him pressing against my slick heat. My breath catches as he begins to push forward slowly, giving my body time to adjust to his size.
“Breathe, kitten,” he rasps, the tension rolling off him as if he’s a breath away from losing control.
I manage a nod, focusing on the brutal, exquisite stretch as he sinks into me, inch by slow inch. It burns—in the best possible way—like my body was forged for this, for him. My wolf arches inside me, thrilled, greedy for every shard of pleasure and possession. This isn’t just sex. It’s a binding of flesh and soul.
When he’s fully sheathed, we freeze. The air between us crackles, thick and wild, as if the bond itself is a living thing clawing under my skin. I canfeelhis restraint, the need straining at its leash, begging to be unleashed.
“Move,” I breathe, tilting my hips in invitation. The drag of him inside me rips a desperate sound from my throat.
He withdraws, slow and measured, only to thrust back with a force that steals my breath. Every stroke is precise, each one feeding my hunger but never quite satisfying it.
I want the beast.
“More,” I bite out, nails raking down his back. “I’m not glass. Stop holding back.”
The tension snaps. A guttural sound rumbles through his chest as his grip clamps down on my hips, holding me in place. Then he moves. Hard. Relentless. Each thrust drives me into the mattress like he’s branding his presence me, like his body is the only language he needs to speak.
“You want more?” he growls, breath hot against my ear. “Then take it. Take every inch until you’re too sore to stand and too full to think.”
His pace turns punishing, brutal in its intensity.
“I’m going to fuck you so deep you’ll still feel me tomorrow. So every step you take reminds you who owns this perfect little pussy.”
The headboard slams against the wall, the sound a savage rhythm. My body sings for him, made to be used like this. Claimed. Worshipped. Broken apart and remade in his hands.
“I’ll put my cum so deeply inside you, kitten,” he grits, “my scent will soak into your bones.”
“Oh gods,” I moan.
“When you cry out kitten, the only thing I want you to praise is me. You’re mine,” he growls against my throat, his breath hot as sin, his teeth grazing over the tender skin. “Say it.”
“Yours,” I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to break skin as the pressure builds inside me like a live wire ready to snap. “And you're mine.”
That does it. His rhythm falters, the next thrust landing deep and brutal.
“Fuck,” he grits out.
The rough honesty in his voice sparks through me, setting every nerve alight. My legs lock around his hips, drawing him in, chasing the closeness like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded. I want him completely. His strength, his warmth, the ache that burns in all the best ways.
The second orgasm coils tight and sharp, riding the edge of pain and pleasure. Every thrust punches a ragged sound from my throat.
“Damien—” I pant, barely holding on.
“I feel it,” he snarls, fingers bruising my hips as he drives into me harder. “I feel your cunt choking on my cock, begging to be filled. So greedy.”
He leans in close, teeth dragging across my jaw.
“You want to be bred, don’t you? Stuffed so full you’ll drip with me for days. You want the whole fucking pack to smell me on you.”
I cry out, my body shattering violently around him. Fire explodes outward, and the connection—it doesn’t just flare, it detonates.
He roars, teeth sinking into the mark at my neck, tearing it open with a brutal bite that sends a surge of blinding white pain-pleasure racing down my spine. His hips drive forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt as release crashes through him in hot, unrelenting waves. Each pulse sears like fire, branding me from the inside out.
His body collapses over mine, still trembling, chest heaving against my breasts, but his hold never loosens. One hand tangled in my hair. The other still gripping my hip like I might vanish if he lets go.
“Mine,” he breathes again, lower this time. Fierce. Final.
And this time, I don’t just say it back.
