Chapter 30 My Little moon
Vuk Kael Lasković
“How long are we going to spend here?” Maureen asked, voice edged with playful impatience as she stepped out of the pooled crimson silk at her feet.
Moonlight spilled through the tall southern windows, turning her bare skin to liquid silver—every curve, every scar, every inch of the body that had ended three and a half centuries of emptiness. My gaze dragged over her like a starving beast before an altar.
She was holy.Untouchable.And yet she was mine.
Staring at her like this felt like blasphemy—like I was defiling something sacred with the sheer filth of my hunger.
“Not long, my love,” I murmured, closing the distance in three silent strides. I slid behind her, arms circling her waist with deliberate gentleness, lips brushing the soft skin between her shoulder blades.
I trailed open-mouthed kisses down her spine, tasting salt and moonlight, then up again to the fresh mating bite that still glowed faintly on her shoulder. She shivered when my fangs grazed it.
My hands moved higher, cupping her breasts, thumbs circling peaked nipples until she arched into me with a soft gasp. I kissed my way to the hollow beneath her ear, then claimed her mouth—slow, deep, filthy, swallowing every little sound she fed me.
She melted against my chest, thighs pressing together, slick already scenting the air like an offering.
A sharp knock shattered the quiet.
Maureen hissed, pulling away to snatch the discarded dress from the floor. “They won’t leave you alone for one morning.”
I caught her wrist, spun her back into me, and pinned her against the nearest wall with my body. The dress fell forgotten again.
“I’m not leaving,” I growled against her throat, voice rough with hellfire. “I swear on every star I’ve burned, I’m not walking out that door until I’ve ruined you so thoroughly you feel me for days.”
Her breath hitched. Silver eyes went dark with heat. “The court is waiting…”
“Let them wait.” I nipped her lower lip, hard enough to draw a bead of blood, then licked it away. “You owe me a proper morning, little moon. And I’m collecting. Right. Fucking. Now.”
I dropped to my knees in front of her.
Hands gripped her hips, claws pricking just enough to remind her who held her life in his palms. I dragged my tongue up the inside of her thigh, tasting the slick already dripping for me, and buried my face between her legs without warning.
She cried out, fingers fisting in my hair as I devoured her—long, filthy licks, fangs scraping delicate skin, sucking her clit until her knees buckled. I held her up easily, one arm banded around her thighs, the other sliding two thick fingers inside her dripping heat.
She was tight, scorching, clenching around me like she was made for this—for me.
When she came the first time, it was with my name shattered on her tongue and her slick flooding my mouth like holy wine.
I rose slowly, licking my lips, eyes glowing molten gold.
But I wasn’t done.
Hellfire surged under my skin—Lucifer’s gift, my curse. I let it loose just enough.
My cock, already straining against my trousers, thickened further—impossibly larger, veins pulsing with living flame, the knot at the base swelling beyond mortal limits. A demonic trick I rarely used. One that would stretch her until she sobbed my name to the heavens.
I freed myself with one hand, lifted her effortlessly, and pinned her higher against the wall—legs wrapped around my waist, back arched, completely open to me.
“Look at me,” I snarled.
Her eyes flew open, wide and glassy.
I drove into her in one brutal thrust.
She screamed—raw, broken, perfect—as her body stretched around the impossible size of me. Walls fluttered in panic and pleasure, trying to take what no human or wolf ever could.
I didn’t move at first. Just held her there, buried to the hilt, knot pressing threateningly against her entrance, letting her feel every burning inch.
“Breathe, little moon,” I rasped, forehead pressed to hers. “Take your devil.”
Her chest rose and fell in frantic little jerks against mine. Tears clung to her lashes, silver in the moonlight, but her hips rolled the tiniest fraction—instinct, need, surrender. Slick poured around my cock, easing the impossible stretch, her body rewriting itself to fit the monster it had claimed as mate.
Good girl.
I pulled back slow—agonizingly slow—watching her face the entire time. Every inch dragging out of her made her whimper, walls fluttering in protest and greedy hunger at once. When only the flared head remained inside, I paused again, letting the cool air kiss her swollen folds, letting her feel the emptiness.
Then I slammed back in.
One brutal, punishing stroke that seated me deeper than before.
She screamed—raw, shattered, beautiful—back bowing off the wall, nails carving bloody furrows down my shoulders. Her cunt clamped down so hard my vision whited out for a heartbeat.
I set a rhythm then: slow, torturous withdrawals followed by savage thrusts that punched the air from her lungs. Each drive lifted her higher up the wall, her thighs trembling around my waist, toes curling against my back.
The wet slap of our bodies echoed through the chamber like war drums. Her slick coated my thighs, dripped down my balls, soaked the marble beneath us. The scent of it—moonlight and sex and utter ruin—filled my lungs until I was drunk on her.
I shifted my grip, one arm banded under her ass, the other sliding up to collar her throat—not squeezing, just holding, feeling her pulse thunder beneath my palm.
“Look at me,” I snarled again.
Her eyes fluttered open, glassy and wrecked, silver irises blown wide with pleasure-pain.
I rolled my hips in a filthy grind, dragging the thickened ridge of my cock over that spot inside her that made her sob my name.
“That’s it,” I growled against her lips. “Cry for your devil. Let the entire South hear who owns this cunt.”
She shattered a second time—harder, longer—walls spasming in violent waves that dragged a roar from my chest. I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. I fucked her through it, pace turning feral, chasing the edge of her pleasure and shoving her straight into a third.
Only when she was limp and shaking, voice hoarse from screaming, did I let the hellfire surge higher.
The veins beneath my skin glowed molten gold. My cock swelled again—impossibly thicker, longer, the knot ballooning until it burned at her rim with every thrust. A demonic gift I’d never unleashed on anyone else. One that would mark her from the inside out.
She felt it. Her eyes flew wide, a fresh wave of panic and lust crashing over her face.
“Vuk—too much—please—”
“Please what, little moon?” I licked the tears from her cheek, fangs scraping delicate skin. “Please stop? Or please split me open and live inside me forever?”
She sobbed, head falling back against the wall, exposing the long line of her throat and the glowing bite I’d left there.
I struck.
Fangs sank deep into the mating mark—reopening it, flooding her veins with fresh venom and power. Lunar blood exploded across my tongue like starfire, and her body arched violently, cunt locking down so hard I saw stars.
The knot finally breached.
One merciless thrust and it popped past her rim, stretching her obscenely, locking us together in a way no mortal knot ever could.
She came undone.
A scream ripped from her throat—primal, endless—as her orgasm tore through her like lightning. Her walls milked me in brutal, rhythmic pulses, dragging my own release from me in thick, scorching ropes that felt endless. I pumped into her again and again, hips jerking helplessly, filling her until she overflowed, until our combined release ran in hot rivulets down her thighs and pooled at our feet.
I kept coming long after any wolf should have—hellfire fueling it, centuries of denied need finally unleashed inside the only body that could take it.
When it finally slowed, I stayed buried deep, knot throbbing in time with her heartbeat, unwilling to separate even an inch.
Her head lolled against my shoulder, breath coming in soft, overwhelmed whimpers. I turned us carefully, still locked together, and carried her to the massive bed. Laid her down on her side, spooning her from behind, my chest to her back, cock and knot still buried inside her.
I licked the fresh blood from her mating bite, sealing it with slow, reverent strokes of my tongue.
“You took me so perfectly,” I whispered against her skin, voice shredded. “Every impossible inch. My holy little moon, made to ruin devils.”
She made a broken sound—half laugh, half sob—and pressed back against me, taking me even deeper.
Outside, the knocks had stopped. The court could burn for all I cared.
I slid one hand down her sweat-slick belly, fingers finding her swollen clit, circling lazily.
“Again,” I growled softly. “I want you raw and shaking before I let the world have even a piece of me today.”
She whimpered, already rocking back into me, body answering before her mind could catch up.
I smiled against her throat, fangs grazing the bite once more.
We had hours before the knot would go down.
And I intended to use every single one.
I rolled her onto her stomach gently, keeping us connected, lifting her hips just enough to change the angle. The new depth dragged a hoarse cry from her throat.
I draped my body over hers—seven feet of muscle and flame caging her tiny frame—and began to move again.
Slow, deep rolls of my hips at first, letting her feel the drag of every thickened vein, every pulse of hellfire inside her. My hand snaked beneath her, fingers working her clit in tight circles while the other tangled in her white-gold hair, turning her head so I could claim her mouth from the side.
She moaned into the kiss—wet, desperate, perfect.
I picked up speed gradually, until the bedframe groaned under us and the headboard cracked against the wall with every thrust. Her fingers clawed at the sheets, body trembling on the edge again already.
I pulled out just enough for the knot to tug at her rim—stretching, burning—then slammed back in.
Over and over.
Until she was babbling my name like a prayer, until tears soaked the pillow, until her voice gave out entirely and only broken gasps remained.
Only then did I let myself chase the edge again.
I reared up, hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, and fucked her in earnest—short, brutal strokes that made her whole body jolt forward with each impact. The knot caught and released, caught and released, driving her higher each time.
When she came the final time, it was silent—mouth open in a soundless scream, body seizing, walls crushing down so hard I followed her over instantly.
Another flood of come, thicker, hotter, marking her deeper than before.
I collapsed over her, careful not to crush, face buried in her hair, breathing her in like oxygen.
Minutes—or hours—passed.
The knot finally began to soften.
I pulled out slowly, reverently, watching my release spill from her in thick streams. She whimpered at the loss, thighs trembling.
I turned her over, gathered her against my chest, and carried her to the bathing pool.
Lowered us both into the steaming water, washing her with gentle hands—every bruise, every bite, every place I’d marked.
She clung to me, boneless and sated, head on my shoulder.
“I love you,” she whispered, voice raw. “Even when you destroy me.”
I pressed my lips to her temple, arms tightening around her.
“And I love you,” I murmured into her skin. “Especially when you let me.”
Outside, the sun was high. The court would be furious.
I didn’t care.
The South was conquered.
The world could wait.