But all thoughts of his tattoo disappeared in a flash, as she felt the most exquisite and delicious pleasure. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her back arched as she felt his fingers, his perfect fingers, pressing against her slit. Yes, there was the fabric of her clothes and underwear between them, keeping it from being in direct contact, but she was already so turned on, it didn’t matter.
Add in that this was the first sexual contact she hadn’t performed on herself, with the touch coming from another human, and her having no way to control him or what he was doing...
“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, her fingers digging into his chest. Oh, fuck, she hadn’t ripped a glove in years, but she just might, clawing him like this. “Oh, fuck, Henrik, it feels so fucking good!”
“Can’t wait to get you naked under me,” Henrik groaned. “On top of me. Naked all the time. Tell me what you’ve been thinkin’ about all these years. Tell me how you been touchin’ yourself.”
“Always to thoughts of you,” she promised, and forced her eyes open. Always behind closed eyes, she was imagining it was him doing things to her. Now it really was him, and she refused to look away. “It’s always you, Henrik. Always you touching me. Holding me down as you touch me. Making me lose control when you touch me.”
“You want to be overwhelmed with pleasure, don’t you, Little Witch.” She did. She really fucking did. “I’m goin’ to spend the rest of my life worshippin’ this perfect fuckin’ body. These tits were made for my mouth, my teeth, my hands. Let me fuckin’ see them.”
“You can’t touch,” she reminded him. “Not if they’re out.”
“Next time, I’ll play with them while you’re wearin’ my shirt, but right now, I want to see them.”
She could give him that. She could give him anything, really, but this was a simple enough request to fill, even though she wished he could touch them.
Violet tugged down the front of her dress, revealing her lacy bra, and tugged down the cups as well, not bothering to try and figure out how to unhook herself, not when touching bare skin could probably kill them. Her breasts were full and heavy, larger than she really needed and could probably do without, but she had always imagined Henrik’s hands covering them, holding them up, and she would be damned if she cut them off before she felt him holding the full weight of her. They had been still developing when she last saw him, her body having fully bloomed in her twenties, so she had to hope he enjoyed them.
His touching stopped between her thighs as he stared at her breasts, and her nipples hardened, even with the heat around them, from the intensity of his gaze. His mouth was open and he looked... dumbfounded.
And then he grinned.
“Play with them for me,” he growled. Growled. His voice was thicker, deeper, and she could have sworn his eyes glowed. “Pinch your nipples. Teach me how to play with them. The first time I can touch you, I want to know what I’m doin’.”
“Just like this,” she gasped, cupping a breast in each hand and pinching her nipples between forefinger and thumb. She flicked them, back and forth with just her thumbs, making them both groan as her hips rocked involuntarily against him. If only he was inside of her right now, she would orgasm so fucking hard... “Add a little twist, and it always gets me off.”
“Let me see,” he begged, his breathing growing heavier with every pant. His eyes were hooded as well, focusing still on her breasts, and he was touching her again. His hand on her hip was rocking her body against his, and she knew he was on the edge of coming, just like she was. He wasn’t as sure in his movements against her cunt, however, not that it mattered. Just being with him like this, it must be some sort of soulmate magic, because simple proximity was likely to send her over the edge at this point. “Let me see. I can’t take much more. Gonna spill in my pants like a boy but you are too fuckin’ hot to stop.”
Too hot to stop. She felt too hot to stop. They were too hot to stop. Everything was so fucking hot.
It all slammed into her at once.
She was on fire, not literally, but inside of her. Her magic felt on fire, her body felt on fire. Where he was touching her, even through layers of fabric, felt on fire. Her breasts, where her hands touched, were on fire. Her lips burned, needing the taste of him. She could nearly see the flames, weaving themselves around her, between him and her. They were connected in almost all ways, so close to one another, overwhelming the senses. She was overwhelmed, out of control. She was letting it all go, letting them simply be.
She, Violet, a failed witch, was in love with this wolf, her Henrik. He had searched for her for years, and she had pushed him away, fought back, but here they were together, a perfect match, so close to one another, unable to pull away. They were madly in love, in lust, unable to stop themselves.
She didn’t have to do anything else, because his touch and his gaze locked with her own pushed her over the edge. She cried out his name, feeling the waves of pleasure slam into her, the fire inside of her roaring up. This was what it meant to simply accept, to stop trying to control. This was what it meant to move with it. To push through rather than to break. She was moving through it, with him.
She was with him, and nothing would stand in their way.
Violet screamed out as her orgasm peaked, the shock of it surprising her, just as Henrik roared underneath her. He sat up, nearly toppling her off of him, and she saw at the last moment his teeth. His sharpened teeth.
Everything happened in slow motion, her mind whirling. What was he doing? Why was he going for her neck? Why was he lunging forward? Why was her subconscious telling her to tilt her head to the side and give him submission? Why was she doing it, without even meaning to? What was he going to do? They were both, at the same time, and his teeth, his bite, and the promise of forever, and—
His teeth touched her skin, his lips as well, and she felt his teeth pressing against her for just a moment, when pain roared to life where his mouth touched. The pain outweighed the pleasure, the burn of it burning a part of her soul.
Her hand, thankfully still covered, pressed on his chest just as he pulled his hands away, and she half fell off of the chair, slamming against her stool and then continuing onto the floor. Everything ached in her body as she slammed down, her body feeling far too old to just land on the floor like that, but that wasn’t her concern.
She looked up to Henrik, to see if he was hurt, if he was burned, only to see he was writhing in pain on the bed. She pushed herself up quickly, nearly slipping and falling as her legs felt like they would give out, but it was just in time to see what happened.
Fur grew where human skin was, his teeth elongating even further than they were before, and claws grew from his fingertips. It was painful to watch, as painful as she imagined the first time to be, only, normally by this age, shifters had no struggles with it, always allowing their bodies to simply carry them through, knowing the magic and pain took but a second.
This was like a brand new shifter going through it for the first time, only worse.
Worse because he was fighting it.
But it was impossible for him to fight against. Whether it was the pain from whatever happened or the pull to bond with his mate, she wasn’t sure, but after a few agonizing seconds, he was a wolf, and she was left standing there to stare at him, panic all over her face.