Chapter 21 Mating
When his lips crashed against mine in a kiss that was less an act of tenderness and more a declaration of ownership, his hands gripped my waist, firm and unyielding, as he swept me into his arms, carrying me toward the bed with a raw, predatory hunger that made my heart pound. I could feel the heat of his body through, his strength undeniable, his intent unmistakable.
“Don't regret this.”
“ I won't.”
He didn't waste time. One step forward, his hand snaking around the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as he yanked me against him. His lips crashed onto mine, hungry and demanding, and for a second, I stiffened-then melted. A low growl rumbled in his chest as my resistance crumbled, my mouth parting under his, my tongue meeting his in a desperate, wet dance. He tasted like sin-smoke and whiskey and something darker, something that made my head spin. His other arm hooked beneath my knees, lifting me effortlessly, and I let out a startled gasp as he carried me toward the bed.
The mattress dipped beneath my weight as he lay me down, his body hovering over mine, caging me in. The heat of him was overwhelming, his skin radiating warmth even through the fabric of his shirt. I should've pushed him away.
Should've spat in his face. But my traitorous body arched toward him instead, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts.
He pulled back just enough to tear his shirt over his head, the movement fluid, deliberate. The scent of him-musky, male, with the faintest hint of sweat-filled my lungs, making me dizzy. His tattoos shifted with the flex of his muscles, dark ink swirling over golden skin, words in a language I didn't recognize but wanted to taste. "I can already smell your arousal for me," he murmured, his voice rough, amused. His fingers traced the contours of my bare breasts, my nipples already hard and aching teasing the bare skin of my stomach.
My cheeks flushed, but my defiance remained. "Shut up," I snapped, my voice sharp, though my body betrayed me with a tremor
He chuckled, low and dark, as my hands betrayed me, reaching out to trace the lines of his tattoos. The ink was warm beneath my fingertips, the patterns intricate sharp, and angular, others flowing like water. I followed the path down his chest, my nails scraping lightly over his abs, feeling the way they tensed under my touch. My fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans, my movements clumsy with need. The zipper gave way with a sharp snik, and I pushed the Denim and the briefs down his hips, my breath hitching as his cock sprang free.
Thick. Heavy. Veined. The head was already slick with pre-cum, glistening under the dim light. I swallowed hard, my thighs pressing together involuntarily, trying to quell the ache between my legs, but it only intensified, a throbbing reminder of my body's betrayal.
It was larger than she'd imagined, There's no way that's fitting inside me. The thought alone sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between my legs, my pussy throbbing in anticipation.
He noticed. Of course he did. His gaze darkened, his lips curling as he kicked his jeans the rest of the way off.
"Like what you see, little hybrid?”
I bared my teeth. "Don't call me that."
Before I could say another word, his hands were on me, His calloused palms cupped my breasts, thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks, and I bit back a moan.
Then his fingers hooked into the waistband of her underwear and tore. The sound of fabric ripping was obscene, My unshaven pussy was exposed, a dusting of hair framing my swollen lips, and I instinctively tried to cover myself, my cheeks burning with shame.
His eyes locked onto the dark curl of hair between her thighs, unkempt, untamed.
"A Little hair?" he teased, his breath hot against her inner thigh. "Could've fooled me. Thought you'd be bare for me by now."
My face flushed darker. "Fuck you."
He bent down and looked up at me, his eyes never leaving mine as he leaned in closer. I knew what he was about to do, and the thought alone made me moan.
I had never had sex before, but I had my share of erotic movies. I knew what happened between men and women when they had sex. I could have stopped him, but I didn't want to. I wanted to feel his tongue on me, his fingers inside me. I wanted to feel him, all of him.
I placed a hand on my pussy, trying to shield myself from him, but he removed it, his eyes darkening with desire, his smile predatory as he pressed his face closer, his breath hot against my sensitive flesh. "First time, huh?" he murmured, his tone almost tender, but the hunger in his eyes told me he was about to take what he'd craved. I nodded, my heart sounding, my body trembling with anticipation and fear. He kissed my inner thigh, his tongue teasing, then trailed upward, his lips brushing her clit. The first swipe of his tongue was slow, deliberate, parting her folds with expert precision. I gasped, my back arching off the bed, my fingers tangling in his hair.
He then plunged his tongue deep into my wetness, fucking me with his mouth, his beard scraping my thighs.
He groaned against me, the vibration sending a jolt straight to my clit. "So fucking wet," he murmured, his thumb finding that swollen bundle of nerves, circling it with just the right pressure.
I whimpered, my hips jerking upward, seeking more. His free hand gripped my thigh, holding me open, exposing me completely as his tongue delved deeper, lapping at my entrance before dragging up to flick my clit. Over and over.
Relentless. My breath came in ragged pants, my nails scraping against his scalp.
"Fuck-" The word broke into a moan as his thumb pressed harder, his tongue working in tight, swirling motions.
Pleasure coiled low in my belly, tight and unbearable. I could feel it building, the pressure mounting, my muscles tensing.
"Come for me," he commanded, his voice a dark purr against my slick flesh.
And I did.
My orgasm hit like a freight train, my back bowing off the bed as a broken cry tore from my throat. His name spilled from my lips, desperate and needy, my pussy clenching around nothing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me.
He didn't let up, drinking down every tremor, every whimper, his tongue and fingers milking every last drop of my release.
By the time I collapsed back against the sheets, my body was boneless, my skin slick with sweat. I barely had time to catch my breath before he was crawling up my body, the thick length of his cock dragging against my inner thigh.
I could feel how hot he was, how hard, the pulse of his heartbeat against my skin.
Darius smiled, his eyes never leaving mine as he licked his fingers clean. His lips meet mine. I could taste myself on him, and the thought alone made me moan. He positioned himself at my entrance, his cock rubbing against my clit. I moaned, my body aching for him.
"Wait—" I started, but the word died in my throat as he lined himself up, the broad head of his cock pressing against my entrance.
He pushed in slowly, inch by agonizing inch, and I hissed at the stretch, my walls clenching around him.
"Shhh, relax, little hybrid," he murmured, his voice a dark caress.
My eyes flew open. "Don't—"
His response was to slam his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.
"Fuck!" I screamed, my nails raking down his back, and he held still, letting me adjust to his size. His thumb brushed my cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle.
He groaned, his forehead dropping to mine, his breath hot and ragged. "So. Fucking. Tight."
His hips rolled, testing me, and I could feel every ridge of him, every throb of his cock inside me. The pain was sharp, but beneath it, something darker hungrier unfurled.
He kissed me then, his tongue invading my mouth with the same ruthless precision as his cock had my pussy. I should've bitten him. Should've fought.
But instead, I kissed him back, my hands gripping his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper.
He began to move-slow at first, his thrusts measured, each one dragging against that spot inside me that made me see stars. I moaned into his mouth, my hips lifting to meet his, my body already addicted to the feel of him. The pain melted into pleasure, into a burning, aching need that coiled tighter with every snap of his hips.
"You're too sweet," he growled against my lips, his pace picking up, his cock pistoning in and out of me with wet, obscene sounds. The bed creaked beneath us, the headboard knocking against the wall in a rhythm that matched the slap of skin on skin.
I could feel his cock hitting my spot over and over again, sending waves of pleasure through my body.
I could feel another orgasm building, my muscles tightening, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. His hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh as he drove into me harder, deeper. "Look at me," he demanded.
My eyelids fluttered open, her gaze locking onto his. The intensity in his eyes stole my breath-possessive, feral.
"You're mine now," he snarled, his thrusts turning punishing, his cock swelling inside me.
And I came undone.
My second orgasm ripped through me, my pussy clamping down around him, my nails sinking into his back as I screamed. He groaned, his own release building, his movements growing erratic, his breath ragged.
He kept fucking me through it, his hips snapping against mine, his cock buried deep as he whispered filthy promises against my ear, his voice a dark, relentless rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart.
He followed, roaring my name as he emptied himself deep inside me, his seed marking me as his. His weight collapsed onto me, heavy but comforting, and I felt his breath even out against my neck.
The whole process of him emptying his seed in me was so arousing that it made me come again.
He laughed, kissing my forehead. "Didn't you just come again?"
I didn't answer, my body still tingling with pleasure. I lay there, panting and exhausted, my body spent. Darius held me close, his touch gentle. I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my face as the reality of my situation sank in. I was bound to him, inextricably linked to the man who had destroyed my world.
He whispered something into my ear, but I was too tired to comprehend his words. All I knew was that my life had changed irrevocably, and there was no going back.