“Yes,” she whispered against my lips. “Yes.”
I hadn’t asked her. Hadn’t voiced the desire. But she felt it in my mind, our bond, her heart responding to mine on instinct alone.
However, I didn’t want to do it here. I wanted to be alone, to cherish her behind closed doors, to make it just us.
I stood and pulled her up into my arms, carrying her inside and to the room I now called my own. Zimney was nowhere to be seen, the wolf probably sensing my intentions and running off to frolic somewhere else.
The door shut quietly behind me, my steps silent against the white carpet.
I set Aflora on the bed, her legs hanging off the edge as she sat up with her hands on my hips. I stood between her thighs, staring down at her in wonder. Then I bent to capture her mouth once more.
Her fingers drifted across my lower abdomen, her quest clear as she unfastened the tie at my waist to push the soft fabric down over my groin to my thighs.
I righted my spine, allowing her to finish the task of removing my pants.
Then I stepped out of them and back between her splayed legs.
Her pretty eyes ran over me in deep appreciation, her pupils dilating as she took in my thick arousal.
She licked her lips and pulled her tank top over her head, presenting me with her beautiful breasts. Then she leaned forward to take my cock into her addictive mouth, her tongue running along the bottom of my shaft in clear and obvious invitation.
I threaded my fingers through her hair, a curse slipping from my mouth as I pushed myself deeper, loving the way she eagerly accepted me into her. Almost as though I’d always belonged. And I likely had.
But this wasn’t the claiming I had in mind.
I needed to be inside her in another way.
To complete our coupling by fucking her to oblivion.
A very masculine competitive part of me needed the others to hear it, too. To know she was mine just as much as she belonged to them.
Her blue eyes sparkled knowingly as she released me from her mouth.
She scooted back onto the bed, hooked her thumbs into the fabric of her shorts, and pulled them off her long, athletic legs.
I stood beside the mattress, watching the show.
All of this was done without words, our bodies speaking for us.
An erotic dance of knowledge and passion and intensity.
And just pure need.
I braced one knee on the bed, watching as she found a place in the middle of the comforter. Her dark strands decorated the pillow in a welcoming gesture, her thighs parting to allow me to see her beautiful, sweet, wet pussy, the heart of her aching for me to take her.
My mouth watered, my desire to taste her almost overcoming my need to be inside her.
But the latter won out.
I could taste her later, indulge in her sweet flavor for hours, and ensure everyone heard her screaming my name.
Tonight, I needed to complete us.
I prowled forward, crawling over her and caging her beneath me. “This is about our union,” I told her softly, lowering to press my groin to hers as I balanced myself on my forearms on either side of her head. “I’m not usually this gentle, Aflora. But something about the moment requires it.”
She reached up to draw her fingers through my hair, the white strands loose around my face and falling around her like a curtain of false purity. “I’m not fragile.”
“I know,” I whispered, pressing my arousal into hers to feel her welcoming heat. I slipped through her folds, my head nudging her clit, before drawing downward to the heart of her. “But I want to ensure you remember this,” I told her, lining up to her entrance. “And I want to hear you scream my name.”