CONCEPTION (The Others) (22 page)

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Authors: Sarah McCarty

BOOK: CONCEPTION (The Others)
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She nodded. His cock fell to her chest. He let it linger on
her breast a moment, dark to light, hard to soft, male to female. He took her
hand and brought it to him. “Replace my cock.”

Her hands slowly wrapped around his sensitive shaft, each
finger feeling like a red-hot flame as she brought him back to her mouth. His
cock looked huge as it rested in her hands, even bigger as it settled on her
tongue, almost obscuring his view of her temptingly perfect mouth.

“Keep your mouth open,” he warned as her lips instinctively
closed around the tip. She shot him another glare that was belied by the shiver
that took her from head to toe. His mate burned with this act of submission,
the flow of her desire perfuming the air around him, filling his balls with the
seed she anticipated. He pumped his cock faster, tightening his grip, rushing
his climax, eager to fill that hot, anxious mouth with his come, to mark her
again in a way that would broadcast to all to whom she belonged. He stroked
harder, twisting on the upstroke, rewarding her obedience in the face of her
hungry anticipation with a small taste. Her eyes closed and her body shuddered,
setting those delectable breasts into an erotic shimmy. The memory of how they’d
looked coated with his come sent a shudder down his own spine.

“Open your eyes, Edie mine.” She did, slowly as if in a
daze, the lids remaining lower than normal, signaling her liking of this.
“Watch me.”

Her heavy-lidded gaze dropped to his cock. Her breath caught
and staggered.

“You will learn to do this for me in time,” he told her,
grunting as her teeth grated the sensitive head as she nodded. His balls pulled
up tight and the base of his spine tingled. His climax could not be delayed
long.

“Do not move,” he ordered.

She
stiffened. Her breath drew in and held as he pressed forward. She opened her
mouth wider. The restless shift of her hips spoke of her need. The spicy edge
to her scent told how close she was to coming. He pushed deeper, until the sensitive
head of his shaft hit the back of her throat. He held his cock there, enjoying
the caress of her muscles as she fought her need to gag, satisfaction blending
with lust as she followed his orders over instinct and did not pull away. He
backed off, releasing a shot of his seed on the retreat, groaning as she moaned
but didn’t move, just let his come coat her mouth as her gaze clung to his, a
plea in their smoky blue depths. His cock dropped to her chest. He touched the
corner of that sweet mouth, took the smear of come, pressed it between her lips
and gave her the permission she required. “Swallow.”

Her
lips closed around his index finger, and her lashes fluttered down in delight
as she swallowed. More satisfaction nudged aside his frustration as she gasped
in a hard breath and eyed him warily as the hormones in his come whipped
through her system. He was her mate. No other could give her what he could. She
would accept their union.

Her scent took on a desperate edge, the unique aroma
signaling her need and agony, calling to everything in him as he grabbed her
ankles, the strength of her summons driving him crazy. In two quick moves, he
turned her so that her legs were over his shoulders and her pussy was level
with his face. For one moment he just stood there, breathing deeply, imprinting
her scent with all its nuances into his being. Everything about her was a
pleasure. Everything about her made him insane with emotions he did not
understand. With the last of his reason, he ordered. “Do not come yet.”

As much as he would love to wallow in her scent, drink her
dry of her essence, his control would not survive that. With the tip of his
tongue, he separated her labia. She whimpered, and her juices creamed his
chest. Her little clitoris stood swollen and aching, peeking out from beneath
its heavy hood. He could see the throb of her desire in its distension. Edie
was very close to coming. Very needing of her mate’s attention.

He stepped in, forcing her higher and opened his mouth over
that pleasure point. Her flavor filled his senses. His beast roared its
pleasure. He welcomed it, embracing its power and its demand. She would accept
the joy he could give her. She would see where she belonged. “You may come
now.”

Very carefully, he caught the nubbin between his upper and
lower fangs. Before she could do more than gasp, he gently bit down, piercing
the plump nubbin the tiniest bit. Her scream was muted but her convulsions
almost tore her out of his arms. He held her close, cupping his hands under her
buttocks as she jerked with the strength of the climax rolling over her. A few
drops of blood flowed into his mouth, encouraging his possession. He clamped
his lips around her, nursing her orgasm on from one wave to the next. The
bitterness underlying her flavor reminded him of what still had to be done. One
more pulse, one more breathless scream, and then he released her.

He lowered her hips, the lingering spasms of her orgasm
rippling against his palms. With a regretful kiss, on the straining bud, he
ducked his shoulders out from under her and let her slide down his body, her
tender pussy skating the ridges and hollows of his torso, leaving behind her
own mark. One he welcomed. As her hips hit the bed, he leaned over her, braced
his left arm alongside her head, cupped her swollen pussy in his hand and
whispered in her ear, “You are mine.”

The shudder that took her body at his claim ended between
her legs. She was so aroused, with three strokes of his finger she was ready to
come again. He held her there on the edge of orgasm with his nail on her clit,
one twitch shy of shattering, and opened the bedside drawer with a thought.
Cold metal settled in his right hand. He stepped forward, forcing her calves up
over his shoulders, splaying her legs high, wedging her between the mattress
and his body. Her legs quivered under the strain. Her breath came in short,
tight pants, but she didn’t object, just stared at him with an air of
acceptance that soothed a bit of his prowling rage.

The thick gold hoop lay in his hand, catching the faint
light in the room. He tilted his palm. The light danced across the ancient
joining words, magnifying the strength in the carvings, in the tradition that
was older than his parents’ memories. A tradition that had lost favor in recent
joinings. He closed his fingers over the ring. Too many things had been lost
lately. Too many traditions abandoned along with that most precious
commodity—hope. He concentrated on the hoop, warming it to his touch,
imprinting it with his energy, whispering the joining words in his mind, his
lust and joy rising with every syllable. The correctness of the decision
settled amidst the turmoil. This was his mate. This was right.

His “Do not move” came out more growl than speech as he
slipped his hands under her soft hips. His palm shaped effortlessly to her
thigh, as if created for no other reason than to please this woman. Edie tensed
as he pinched the hood of her clit between his fingers, jerked as his nails
sharpened and clenched on the delicate skin. He felt carefully, finding the
spot he wanted, close enough to the nerve bundle that the weight would be a
constant stimulus, but not so close as to create irritation. Before Eden could
process his intent, he pierced the layers of skin, squeezing her clit between
his thumb and index finger at the same time, milking it hard, hurtling her into
climax. She arched high off the bed, her scream a mix of pleasure and surprise.
He did not block all the pain of the piercing, letting some of it blend with
her orgasm, knowing it would drive it higher, wanting this moment forever
engraved on her memory. Deuce waited for the last shudder to settle to a
quiver.

“Watch.” She shook her head. He leaned in, curving her
spine, tipping her hips inward, compelling her with thought as well as command.
“Watch, my heart.”

Her lids lifted slowly. Her tongue slid over her lips,
wetting them with lingering seduction. He opened his hand. The ring glowed from
within, pulsing with the energy he’d fed it. He opened the hoop. Edie’s eyes
widened and flew to his. He held her gaze as he threaded the hoop through the
opening he’d made. Her hips bucked as the thickest part stretched the piercing.
The swollen bud of her clitoris leapt under the pressure. Her scent saturated
the room. She was such a miracle.

Deuce held Edie in place with his hands and leaned back,
lapping the sensitive nub, sending pleasure chasing her shock. Her scent lured
him lower, seducing him to linger longer than he had intended. She tasted of
blood, woman and heaven. Of perfection incarnate. The hoop brushed his cheek.
He gave it a nudge, treating her to a sample of the delights to come. She
bucked up into his mouth, her moan as enjoyable as her responsiveness. He
kissed her weeping folds gently, lovingly before rising over her, easing the
pressure on her back. The hoop lay heavy and large against her delicate pussy,
dominating the area.

His cock throbbed. Never again would she move without the
memory of the joy he could bring her. Never again would another look at her and
think her available. She was his Chosen mate. She bore his mark. It was as it
should be.

He healed the wound before heating the ring, chanting the
permanence ritual, protecting her flesh from the worst of the heat, but not
all. There was a great deal of feminine delight coming through the uncertainty
swirling around her as the heat transferred to those ultra-sensitive nerve
endings. When the hoop fastener sealed smoothly, and she hovered on the brink
again, Deuce slid his finger through the center, for the first time ever, taking
control of his mate in the ancient way. The weight, the feel, the way the ring
glowed against her delicate flesh—it all pleased him deep inside. It was a hoop
of substance. Worthy of a woman of substance. He tugged gently. Eden jumped a
foot, the lightning bolt of sensation projecting outward, snagging his lust and
tossing it higher. She caught her breath, and he caught her gaze. “You are
mine.”

He tugged again, a little harder, holding the ring out a
second longer the next time. Her head thrashed side to side. Her fingers dug
into the comforter as her body drew taut while fine tremors quivered down her
legs.

“Deuce!”

“Come for me.” He jiggled the ring, ending with a series of
sharp jerks as he thrust his finger deep into her grasping pussy.

She came, screaming his name, filling the room with the
scent and sound of her satisfaction.

He brought her down gently, circling her swollen clitoris
with soft as air brushes, maintaining his presence high inside her for a moment
longer before withdrawing. When she sagged, he didn’t hold her, just let her
feet slide down. Two discordant thuds punctuated her heels hitting the bed
rail. Her hands went between her legs to touch the heavy ring. A small moan
disrupted the staccato pants of her breath as she explored the prominent hoop.
Deuce pulled her limp body to the edge of the bed. Her body was sated, but she
still hungered. Only the slightest of direction from his hand was required
before he felt her lips brush his balls. And then her tongue. The Maker, she
had a sweet, tempting tongue. Too tempting.

He stepped back. His cock dropped in front of her face,
hitting the mattress with a soft thud. Eden opened her mouth, giving him a
glimpse of her teeth and the hot wet promise of heaven. She welcomed him in
with a delicate suction. Though everything inside him demanded that he fuck her
hard, he gave her control. She was still in shock over the piercing, her mind
alternating between delight and horror, as she experimented with the pleasures
of the joining ring. He slid his index finger alongside hers, touching the warm
gold, tracing the ornate carving of the joining words before hooking his
fingertip through the thick hoop, letting the weight of his hand rest against
her thigh, heating the metal as he encouraged her passion.

“Take what you need, mate.” He cupped her head as she
engulfed his aching cock in the tight heat of her mouth, suckling gently on the
tip, drawing his orgasm from him in delicate sips that burned up from his groin
until he thought the top of his head would explode. Time after time, when he
knew he could not bear another moment, she demanded he give her that much
more—more pleasure, more of what he was, taking him higher than he thought he
could go, sapping his strength and his anger with the searing heat of her mouth.
Tentatively blending her soul to the edge of his until his knees gave out and
he collapsed on the bed above her, his cock jostling free, the last of his seed
spilling on the side of her breast.

He gasped as she moaned, cocooning the small splash in his
hand, letting the warmth from his palm and his seed meld their flesh together.
He met her tired gaze with his, conviction welling with the truth. “I will
never let you go.”

Chapter Twelve

 

“I think you cured me.”

Deuce smiled at the sleepy, brave boast and gently lifted
another section of Edie’s nearly dry hair to the heat coming off the fire in
the fireplace. “That would be good.”

Improbable, but good.

He let the hair fall, watching it slide over her shoulders
to flow like liquid gold as it puddled on the burgundy throw he’d spread on the
white carpet. She adjusted her cheek on his naked thigh, her breath a
tantalizing stroke along his balls. His cock stirred with renewed interest. She
pressed a tiny kiss on the receptive flesh of his inner thigh as his gaze
followed a natural path over her still peaked breasts, down over her stomach to
the ring of gold that glowed between her labia. The shadows from the flames
danced over her slim body in intriguing patterns, reflecting off the ring,
glinting stronger at the edge of the deep carvings.

Her gaze followed his. Embarrassment, trepidation and
pleasure flashed across her face before she buried her it against his hip, her
nails digging into the muscle as she wrestled with her reaction to the
piercing.

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