Page 24 of Stolen By the Wraiths
I worked my way down her body with deliberate intent, using my mouth and hands to map every sensitive spot, every place that made her arch beneath me with growing need. When I reached her breasts again, I lavished attention on each peak until she was gasping my name and threading her fingers through my hair with strength.
Her skin tasted of salt and her unique pheromonal signature, which was growing stronger as her arousal built.The biochemical changes were beginning in my own system—hormone levels shifting, neural pathways preparing for permanent connection, every cell in my body recognizing the approaching bond.
"Please," she whispered, her hips rising against mine in unconscious invitation. "I need more."
"Not yet," I said, continuing my downward journey with methodical thoroughness. "First, I taste you properly. Learn every flavor, every response, every sound you make when you lose control."
Her scent was intoxicating here—uniquely hers mixed with arousal that spoke of readiness and trust and want. As I parted her thighs and settled between them, she arched off the bunk with a cry that reverberated through my chest and straight to my groin.
She was sweet and salty and addictive, her taste flooding my senses while her scent grew richer with each pass of my tongue. I explored her thoroughly, learning what made her gasp, what made her writhe, what made her call my name in a voice rough with need.
"Oh god, Ressh," she gasped, her hips bucking against my mouth. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
I had no intention of stopping. I devoured her like a man starved, using my lips and tongue and teeth to drive her higher while she writhed beneath me. When I sucked hard on her most sensitive spot, she cried out and her hands grabbed my hair with enough force to make me growl against her flesh.
"You taste like heaven," I said against her slick heat. "I could spend hours worshipping you with my mouth."
"Later," she gasped. "Right now I need—oh fuck—I need to come."
The pheromonal feedback was intense. Her pleasure fed my arousal, which spiked my output, which drove her higher in anendless cycle of biochemical communication. Our systems were beginning to align, our biology recognizing compatibility and preparing for permanent connection.
When I found the rhythm that had her trembling on the edge of climax, I maintained it with relentless precision until she shattered beneath my mouth with a cry that was half scream, half prayer. The orgasm triggered the first stage of biochemical bonding—her pheromonal output spiking dramatically, creating waves of chemical communication that washed over me like physical force.
"Inside me," she gasped when she could speak again, her hands pulling at my shoulders with strength. "I need you inside me. Complete the bond. Make me yours."
I positioned myself at her entrance, the head of my arousal slick with need and throbbing with urgent demand to claim her. When I met those eyes, they were dark with want and absolute trust that made my chest constrict.
"This changes everything," I said, raw edge of need roughening my voice as I fought every instinct that demanded immediate possession. "Once I'm inside you, once we complete the bond, you'll be mine forever. No other male will ever touch you. No other scent will satisfy you. You'll crave me like oxygen."
"Promise?" she whispered, her hips rising to brush against me in deliberate provocation.
"I promise," I growled, then pushed forward in one smooth stroke that buried me to the hilt inside her tight heat. The sensation of entering her was unlike anything I'd experienced. It was organic recognition at the cellular level, not just physical pleasure.
My body understood what was happening. Permanent bonding. Life-altering connection. The transformation of two individuals into something new and unbreakable. Every nerveending was hypersensitive, every sensation amplified by the biochemical processes beginning in both our systems.
When I was fully seated inside her, we both went still, overwhelmed by the intensity of the connection. Her emotions flooded me as if they were my own: a sense of wonder and a love so profound it made my chest tight.
The pheromonal exchange was constant now, invisible chemistry creating feedback loops that made rational thought impossible.
"Move," she commanded, her nails raking down my back hard enough to leave marks. "Claim me properly. Make me scream your name."
I began with slow, deep strokes that had her gasping beneath me, but her demands and the primal imperative quickly overwhelmed any pretense of gentleness. My rhythm became brutal and possessive, each thrust driving into her with claiming force that made the narrow bunk shake.
"Harder," she gasped, her hips rising to meet me with abandon. "I want to feel this for days. I want to be sore and satisfied and completely ruined."
A possessive growl tore from my throat. I drove into her, the impact a primal rhythm against the bulkhead. This was declaration.
"You feel incredible," I growled against her skin. "So tight, so perfect. Made for me."
"Yes," she cried out as I hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Made for you. Only you. Always you."
The air around us was thick with our combined chemistry, creating a private atmosphere of possession and claiming that spoke to brain centers older than conscious thought. My markings were flaring with brilliant patterns, painting shifting light across her skin as the organic processes reached critical intensity.
"Say it," I snarled as territorial imperative overwhelmed rational thought, my hips snapping forward with possessive power that made her arch beneath me. "Tell me who you belong to."
"Yours," she gasped, her voice breaking with pleasure. "I'm yours, Ressh. Forever yours. Only yours."
"That's right," I growled, one hand fisting in my hair to hold her still while I drove into her with possessive intensity. I pinned her wrists above her head, my body a heavy, possessive weight. "Every inch of you belongs to me."
