347- Claimed by Fire and Fury
POV Seraphine Valerian:
It was heavy, powerful, tearing. Both the fear and Viktor on top of me.
My scream was muffled by his mouth in a hungry, ferocious kiss.
His body crushed me, powerful muscles preventing any escape. I scratched his back and his tongue soothed me with desperation.
I felt my mind spin, expecting the worst. That he would tear me apart or violate me—but he didn’t thrust into me yet. He pulled me completely against him, kissing, pleading for something so intense that I froze, only breathing.
Hands moved through my hair and over my face, my body. Shoulders, breasts, stomach, returning, touching everywhere. Ragged breathing, surprising me with the depth of explosive yet restrained emotions.
He bit my lips, rubbed his against my face, scenting me, moving to my ear, wanting everything. Then returning to my mouth, to kiss more, deeply. A connection that shook me and suddenly pulled me into that vortex between us.
Tears filled my eyes and, deep down, I understood the truth. The beast was there—it held me. But it didn’t hurt me. It had never truly hurt me.
I cried and clung to him, anger and fear turning into attachment and need, into guilt. I couldn’t think, emotions consumed me and threw me into that spiral, and I was overwhelmed. I kissed him with the same hunger and desperation, beside myself—or perhaps finding myself for the first time.
We ignited in fever and caresses, mouths devouring each other, breaths and skins rubbing. I needed Viktor so much I went mad, as if I could merge him into me, seeking him with my body. His scent consuming my senses.
I felt needy, thirsty for him. And I realized it was mutual. It had been since the first glance—before that even. And now it became real.
There was no time for thought or words. I opened myself more, begged in soft cries against his tongue, dripping with desire and madness. He adjusted himself, aligning his body, pressing against my slick folds. Slowly, but firmly. Until he spread me open for all that size and strength.
I shuddered, pressing myself against his power. Then he came all at once—intense and fierce, tearing my hymen, invading what was his alone. The man of my dreams. Viktor. The beast that lived within him.
I screamed in pain, from the stab that burned too much. He growled, holding me, pushing all the way in. He kissed me again, his hips nestled between my thighs, his length buried. That’s when he lifted his head and looked at me. His eyes burned like molten gold, fangs slipping past his lips.
I feared him—and desired him. Trembling, burning, delirious.
“Mine… mine…” he rasped, kissing me again, different now with larger canines, a taste of blood between our mouths.
I wanted more, filled with tears and abandon, with voracious and overwhelming emotions.
He moved, thrusting in and out, taking me. The pain burned alongside it, but my body shivered with a pleasure unlike anything I had ever felt. It was a brutal, living connection that cleansed and pulled. It exalted.
I wrapped my legs around him, feeling the intimate fusion, my arousal slick between us, easing the perfect penetration. He was too big, too strong. And still, he fit, claimed. All mine.
I moved with him until it became a fierce and beautiful dance. His teeth returned to normal, the growls continued. Kissing my face, seeking my eyes. Viktor wanted to see me while he held me, bound to him to the soul.
He drove me into the mattress, more feral, maddened.
I cried out in massive waves, digging my fingers into the muscles of his back. I sought his mouth, my body pressed against him, my skin burning against his. Emotional tears falling to the sides.
The climax tore through me violently. I collapsed into the searing sensations, shaking, screaming until I lost my voice. His body tensed, releasing a hot, intoxicating warmth deep inside me. His growl echoed against the walls as he came.
He lifted part of his torso and head, hips still moving, everything spilling out. Until he held my gaze and settled into me, our lips close, our bodies joined.
I couldn’t speak, think, or even understand it. The immensity, the overwhelming vertigo. I only breathed, limp and unsteady, physically and emotionally exhausted.
Viktor groaned hoarsely, nuzzling my neck, his canines brushing the vein that pulsed there. He slowly withdrew from inside me and it hurt, as if scraping against something raw. I whimpered at the emptiness and the lingering burn.
He knelt between my legs, golden eyes trailing down my body, his skin still marked from the fight, from dirt and blood—things I barely noticed.
His gaze fixed on my sex, his breathing heavier, brows drawn together. He held my trembling thighs and spread them to their limit as he lowered his head.
“No…”
Weak, I tried to stop him, my hands in his hair, half-sitting up. A small cry escaped me when his tongue touched the sore, swollen place where I saw blood and semen mixed. It was shocking when he licked and pushed his tongue inside me.
“Ah!”
I fell back. An absurd pleasure invaded my exhaustion, while the burning there eased, soothed. Then I understood. Viktor was making the internal scratches fade with his healing saliva.
The sting faded, until almost nothing remained.
He lifted his head, kneeling back on the mattress, torso upright, hair disheveled—beautiful and powerful. Looking at me intently.
The gold receded, darkness filling his irises again.
Reality returning completely.
Bringing everything with it.