Page 41 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
“I want that too,” I admit, and his next thrust shoves me forward, wrenching a cry from my lips. “I want them all to know you’re mine.”
Whatever he might’ve said in reply is swallowed by a snarl of satisfaction. Then there are no more words, only the primal wet sounds of his cock hammering into my sopping pussy over and over and over.
One of his hands drops to my clit and flicks it in time with his thrusts. The extra stimulation is just what I need to come hard a second time.
Jaro goes wild. His snarls and growls echo off the trees surrounding us, and I can do little more than shudder and gasp around him as he powers through my orgasm, forcing his way past the clenching muscles to drench my insides with spurts of scorching cum. He keeps going when I expect him to soften, pumping shallowly inside me.
Without stopping, he rolls us again, until I’m seated on top of him, facing his boots.
“Ride me,” he murmurs. “I need you again. You’re so wet?—”
Cutting him off, I brace my hands on his leather-clad thighs and lift, sinking down slowly. It works better when I rotate my hips, allowing my own weight to pull me down onto him before lifting again. My tits bounce, nipples hard and begging for attention, and I abandon my grip on his thighs to cradle them in my palms.
A growl under his breath is all the warning I get before his hand tangles in the strands of my hair, holding me by the nape of my neck in a proprietary hold that forces my breasts out on display.
“Mine!” he roars.
I half-think I catch a glimpse of blue disappearing between the trees before my eyes fall closed and I shatter all over again with the claiming.
When my heart rate finally returns to normal, I’m sprawled against his chest. Jaro’s fingers trace lazy patterns in the whorls of sparkling violet dust that covers every inch of us.
“You’re a miracle,” he murmurs.
I run my fingers across his collarbone. “How is your wolf? Did I?—”
“He tried to bite you and draw your blood at least half a dozen times,” Jaro replies, scrubbing at his beard with a guilty expression. “Your magic held. You’re stronger than he is. Stronger than me…”
“You went through something no one should ever have to,” I say, pushing up onto my elbows. “You’ll find your balance again.”
I just don’t know if it will take until we form that mating bond.
“You can’t leave,” I add, but it’s less of an order and more of a plea.
He sighs, fingers stopping for a second. “I’ll stay, but if I lose control…”
“We’ll deal with it if it happens.”
As long as we stay together, we can fix anything.
Twelve
Rhoswyn
When we return to camp the next morning, Jaro’s sparkling skin draws more than a few jealous grunts. But no one is more surprised than me when Drystan drags me from my wolf shifter’s arms and claims a kiss before lifting me up into Blizzard’s saddle.
I glance at the rest of them, frowning when I notice Caed has mysteriously developed a black eye. Raising a single eyebrow in question, I look at Bree and Lore expectantly.
“We had a disagreement,” Bree grumbles, surprising me. “About voyeurism without consent.”
“You’re welcome to kiss it better.” Caed shrugs. “And, for the record, if you didn’t want me to see, you shouldn’t have sent me to collect firewood that we don’t even need, since the headless one can just click his fingers and cook a grouse.”
My mind flashes back to the streak of blue I thought I saw while I was riding Jaro, and my stomach twists with a mix of indignation and… lust.
As if to taunt me, my subconscious drags up that memory of the Fomorian prince naked in front of the fire, painted in orange and blue light, and I have to convince myself the interest dripping between my thighs is just some remnant of last night that we missed during clean up.
Determined to ignore Caed, I sweep the empty glade for anything we might’ve left behind, then focus on Drystan swinging up into the saddle behind me.
“What do you want done about him?” Drystan asks, his voice a bare murmur as he spurs Blizzard into motion.
