Pleasure of a Dark Prince

Chapter 39

Growling against her lips, Garreth met her tongue for a deep kiss. She’s surrendering. She needs me, too… He wanted to roar with satisfaction.

Before she could change her mind, he snatched off her pack, tossing it away, then slashed through her clothes with his claws. As soon as he’d uncovered her creamy breasts, his mouth latched onto one of her nipples. She gave a cry when he suckled her hard, groaning against her.

By the time he’d ripped off her panties, she was shivering—but not from cold. He’d trained her body to respond to his, had learned how to pet her, how to make her melt.

As he moved to her other nipple and his hand skimmed down her belly, she rolled her hips up for his touch. Before he obliged, he remembered to bite his claws off the fingers of one hand. Then he delved between her legs, finding her slick and ready. With another growl, he collected her moisture and spread it over her swollen little clitoris, rubbing her there in slow circles.

His gaze held hers as he rasped, “Goin’ tae press… my finger into you.” He began easing it between her folds. At first, she tensed, but as he went deeper, inch by inch, her lids grew heavy.

He gave a sharp groan. “First time I’ve felt you inside.” So tight. So hot. He stirred that finger, building more wetness. Then he withdrew, but only to return with two fingers, stretching her sheath as her head fell back and she helplessly moaned.

“You like that, mate.” He began thrusting them inside her.

“Yes!”

He clutched her body to his own, and with each plunge of his fingers, he ground his shaft against her hip.

“Don’t stop, MacRieve….”

He feared he’d come like this, ejaculating against her. And though everything inside him was screaming to pleasure her, he didn’t want her to come either, sensed he needed her crazed like this or she’d change her mind. When she cried out that she was so close, he released her, slipping his fingers free of her sex.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked, sounding dazed. “Why did you stop?”

“Turn around,” he commanded, positioning her body toward the vine-covered rock. With his palm flat across her back, he bent her over it, pressing her face against the leaves.

Movement behind her. The sound of MacRieve’s clothes torn off.

Once Lucia knew he was naked, her body tensed in anticipation even as her flesh quivered for the orgasm he’d denied her. “Please…” Panting, wanting, aching.

He answered by running the head of his penis up and down her sex.

“Ah, yes!”

Kicking her legs wide, he lifted one of her knees up to the rock, spreading her. She was as open for him as she could be, vulnerable, and he was about to shove that shaft into her….

She had a moment of sanity. Her desire-drenched mind again tried to call up—

His big palm squeezed her ass, giving her a loud slap as he grunted with approval. In turn, she moaned, arching her back down, opening herself even more to him.

Then she felt… his mouth. He’d knelt and was madly licking between her thighs.

“MacRieve!” she gasped, her eyes sliding closed with pleasure as he tongued her flesh. When he eased those fingers back into her sheath at the same time, she moaned to be filled, still so unused to the feeling. For so long, she’d craved this, had begged him for it.

With one hand, his fingers thrust, and with his other, he parted her for his feasting mouth. “MacRieve, ah, gods!” There was no fighting this—she grew closer and closer, tension building.

Right when she was at the razor’s edge, when she’d drawn a breath to scream, he… stopped, drawing away.

“Nooo! I can’t take much more of this.” She gazed back as he stood. He was losing control, more completely turned than she’d ever seen him, and gripping his engorged shaft to take her. So why did she have the urge to raise her hips, rolling them to signal her need?

Yet he seemed to change his mind, positioning her again. He lifted her, turning her to face him, then pressed her back onto the rock. She realized why and felt a pang—he didn’t want to take her from behind their first time. For herself, she was still desperate for any touch. He’d made her frantic to come.

After lifting her bodily in place, he climbed up for her. He’s rising over me. She swallowed, fighting her burgeoning disquiet. Just before he lowered his hips between her thighs, his erection hung down, huge, angry. He could hurt her—rip her in two. Blood streaming down my thighs…

She tensed with fear, but MacRieve began praising her in Gaelic, with adoration in his pale eyes. He lovingly suckled her nipples, his palms sweeping over her as if he were worshipping her. Against all odds, he kept her desires simmering.

Too soon, she felt him feeding his shaft into her, the broad crown demanding entrance. Lightning sheared the night above the canopy. This will hurt… this will—

He reached between them and began circling his thumb over her clitoris.

“MacRieve!” She bit her bottom lip and moaned. So far, no pain. It felt… good. His erection was hot and unyielding in her wetness. Felt right.

He slowly flexed his hips, forcing his penis deeper. Tightness, pressure, but still bearable. As long as he kept rubbing. Her eyes closed with bliss. This is why women adore sex. She absently whispered, “I never knew before.”

When he wedged it deeper inside her, he threw back his head and roared so hard she could feel the vibrations from his chest.

She’d barely taken a gasping breath when he somehow plunged even farther. Now there was pain. “No!”

He stilled. “No?”

“Just… just go easier.”

He let her adjust, seeming to shudder from the effort, his neck and chest muscles corded with strain and slick with sweat. Though his eyes were frenzied, he somehow held his shaft still within her, even as his claws raked down the stone on each side of her body, slicing the vines.

When the leaves fell away, she saw symbols carved on the face of the stone. Symbols? The rock was long, flat, waist high….

Not just a rock. An altar. Lightning exploded.

“No, no!” Tears filled her eyes, then tracked down her cheeks. “I can’t….” She struggled, shoving against him. We’re on an altar.

Still inside her, MacRieve cupped her face. In that beastly voice, he rasped, “Whatever you fear… whatever you’ve known… this is different.”

She couldn’t imagine what this effort was costing him—to defy the Instinct screaming inside him, to patiently speak to her when the beast was ravening within.

“Lousha, we’re different together… come back… tae me.”

“No, you don’t understand!”

He pulled her up to his chest, clutching her against him. “Wanted you for months… been obsessed with you… but now…”

“N-now what?”

At her ear, the beast rumbled, “Now you’ve taken… the heart from my chest.”

At that, she gave a little sob. “MacRieve,” she whispered.

He’d brought her back to the present, but she still trembled in his arms—it tore at him, even as he had to clench his jaw, grappling with the drives inside him. He had to ignore how her soft breasts rubbed his chest, her dusky pink nipples rigid and damp against him. Her sheath squeezed like a fist, taunting his throbbing cock to thrust. Gods, he needed to plunge hard into his mate!

But her fear… he could scent it.

“Ride me.”

“Wh-what?” She frowned when he gripped the curves of her arse, holding himself within her as he turned to his back.

Once she straddled him, her hands flew to his shoulders, her wee claws digging in, her dark eyes wide with surprise. But when he rubbed the pad of his finger over her clitoris again, her sex clenched around him and she murmured, “That feels so good.”

“Need you tae… ride me.”

After a hesitation, she gave a shaky nod. “Sh-show me?”

He clasped her hips to guide her, easing her body forward until her breasts bobbed just above his hungry mouth. Then he worked her back down. Forward and back…

When she took over, he knew she was his. This will happen. At last, I’m claiming my mate. My Lousha.

Each time she rocked over him, one of her nipples dragged across his waiting tongue. The fear in her disappeared—her eyes grew silvery and wicked as she rode him for her pleasure.

Lightning struck as her long hair lashed over her breasts and face. Rain misted her skin as she panted.

So beautiful. Mine. And he needed more. “Harder,” he bit out. Need to mark her neck… claim her forever. “Ride me harder!”

She arched backward, hands behind her on his thighs, her hair sweeping over his legs. Breasts jutting to the sky, she frantically ground on his cock.

“Lousha! Canna last.” As she continued to whip her hips in his lap, he rose up to meet her gaze.

With her eyes half-lidded and her voice a sultry purr, she asked, “Are you going to mark me?”

“The ever livin’ hell out o’ you,” he growled. “Right as you’re about tae come on me.” Seizing her arse with both hands, he shoved her down on his cock just as he bucked upward.

“Ah, gods! MacRieve!” Her breasts bounced against him. “You’re making me…”

She was already there? Gritting his teeth to keep his seed, he thrust up again, harder. The stone beneath him began to fracture.

“I’m… I’m…”

Eyes fixed on her neck, he leaned in, licking her, lulling… As he shoved up into her slick heat, he bit her flesh in a frenzy.

Claiming her… marking her… His eyes rolled back in his head as she cried, “Coming!”

Desperate to feel it, he snarled into the bite, plunging her up and down. Harder… harder. As the stone cracked, she screamed with pleasure, her sheath contracting, milking him, demanding.

He followed her, ejaculating inside her with a broken yell against her skin, mindlessly pumping wave after searing wave.

She sagged against him, gasping, “It’s so hot….”

After-shudders. Arms wrapped around each other. Hearts thundering.

He reluctantly released his bite, but he remained aching and stiff inside her, still needing to drive into her. So he dragged her to the ground with him.

Just before he took her on her hands and knees, she gazed back at the rock they’d broken with a fierce look.

Cupping her waist and gripping her long hair, he bucked into her, roaring with pleasure as she moaned his name.

Then they both gave themselves up to the beast within him.