The Mountain Ch. 04

"Wait," he said, catching her hands. "My turn."

He captured her wrists in one hand and used the other to explore. For a moment, the haze lifted and she was herself again. She remembered her first humiliating day inside the mountain, the way he had undressed her and probed her.

"Wait," she begged, trying to catch her breath.

To her surprise, his hand stilled. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his voice almost harsh.

"I--"

"Lucy," he said. He lifted her chin with his hand, forcing her to look at him. "Find the courage to tell me now if you want me to stop. I will if you ask me. But I won't ask again."

A choice. Like the kiss. But somehow, she knew it wasn't real. She didn't have the ability to push him away. Deep down, in a part of herself she could barely feel, Lucy was blindingly angry at him for pretending that she had any choice at all. But the anger was hidden under a million more emotions, and any one of them was easier to grasp.

"I want you," Lucy said, almost crying. "I don't know why."

Warder groaned and rolled her over onto the bed, capturing her hands again and probing at her pussy with one huge finger. Embarrassed, she tried to close her legs and he growled at her. "No," and pushed them open. He teased her clit, studying her reactions, changing the pressure as she jumped and shuddered beneath him.

He took his hand away suddenly and Lucy cried out in protest. But he tugged her roughly towards him and then he lowered his head, lapping at her soft bud with his tongue. Lucy nearly screamed at the sensation. She had never felt anything like it before. It was too much and she tried to move away, but he pressed a hand over her thighs, trapping her. She reached out and tugged at his arm, trying to get his attention, but he ignored her. She felt tears come to her eyes as the sensations went on and on. Then, slowly, her body relaxed into him and she didn't want him to stop anymore. She was wriggling beneath him, desperate for more.

He held one strong finger at her entrance again, probing gently. Then, without warning, he plunged the finger inside and then another, his tongue still moving at her clit. Lucy cried out as her body shattered into an orgasm that came in wave after wave of intense pleasure. Pleased, Warder gathered her against his chest, kissing her with the taste of her pussy on his lips while he waited for the sensations to quiet.

Instinctively, she moved down his body, intending to take him in her mouth, to make him feel as she had felt. But he stopped her.

"I can't wait," he said. "I need to be inside you."

Wait, she wanted to say. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, she urged him on, kneading his hips with her hands. "Warder."

She had touched him there, but now as he rose over her, she saw his cock, erect, about to plunge into her body. It looked huge.

Warder noticed her fearful gaze and he kissed her, forcing her to look away. At the same moment, he entered her in one, smooth stroke.

Lucy cried out against his lips. It hurt, but the feeling was secondary to a kind of fullness, a deep, aching fullness that radiated through her body. Warder began to move within her, and Lucy moaned as she struggled to accommodate his size. It hurt when he moved and she tried to tell him, tried to control him by holding his arms where they rested on either side of her head. He ignored her, moving faster, slamming into her so hard that she felt the bed shake beneath them.

Warder didn't know when he stopped kissing her. He lost himself to the feeling of moving inside her. She was so small. So tight. Like velvet against his hard cock. And she had given herself to him. Perhaps, he had manufactured their closeness, forced her to be near him until estrous overtook her. But he had given her a chance to pull away and she had pulled him closer.

He knew that he should be gentle. She was a virgin. But the very thought urged him on. She was his and she would only ever be his. He pounded into her mercilessly, reveling in her mewls and shouts of pain and pleasure mingled so close together that she could barely tell the difference. When he was close to the edge, he took her lips again, forcing his tongue into her mouth as he let go, groaning in pleasure as his hot cum filled her. Hoping, praying that there was more yet to come.

He knew the moment that she felt his knot swelling within her. Watched her eyes go wide. She tried to buck him off, aware, somehow, of the significance of their joining even if she didn't really know what was happening. But it was impossible now.

It was done.

"Warder." She leaned against his chest for comfort, because who else would comfort her but her mate? "What? What are you--"

"Shh," he said, kissing the top of her head. "It's all right. It's all right."

"But--"

"This is how our men are made. Strong enough to claim you. It is my knot, swelling inside you, to bring us closer. To make it certain that I will breed on you. It is as it should be."

"It's not normal. It's too much. I--"

He silenced her with a growl, thrusting against her as much as he could with his knot swelled between them. She bit back a scream and her head rolled back as another orgasm shattered through her, her body recognizing his claim even if her mind was, momentarily, determined to rebel.

"You will take it because I ask it of you. He growled as she came back to herself, unwilling in that moment to placate her.

She was his mate. He loved her. He would protect her. She would obey.

#

She was afraid of him. Sore, inside and out. And she ached for him. She couldn't get close enough.

Within minutes of their first mating, he mounted her again and she moaned and writhed beneath him, urging him on. Coming briefly to her senses, she tried to leave the bed and he only caught her and forced her to the floor, taking her again from behind. As her knees scraped against the stone, she begged him, not knowing what she was asking for.

As the hours passed, the sickness faded, replaced by something else. An awareness of him. A need for him. A desire to have him touching her even if he forced himself on her. Even if it hurt.

#

She felt him again. She was lying on her stomach, tangled in the sheets. The bed was hot--like bathwater on her skin. Her skin burned, something like fever coming in waves. His hands found her, and they were cool. She moaned at the feeling. Slowly, his body covered hers. The coolness fled and she felt the heat of him, heavy against her.

"Too hot," she whimpered. "I'm burning up."

"Just once more," he said. He leaned in to nip her ear and she groaned. "Before it's over."

"Over?" she managed, confused.

"Please."

It was the only time he had asked her for anything, really. He had commanded, but he had never said "please." So many times, she had begged him. First, to acknowledge her, to release her. Then, to be the thing that calmed the burning inside her, the only thing that could shatter the consuming sickness and make it alive, bright. So good.

She felt him enter her, pressing her body into the bed. He moved slowly and she was aware of every inch of him. He reached his arm under her and caressed her clit, and instantly she lit on fire. An orgasm racked through her body, and almost as soon as she screamed with the power of it, she felt the heat build again, curling in her chest and radiating out through her fingers and toes with the force of a firework.

Satisfied that she had found her release, he picked up the pace, worried at once that he would break her small body beneath him and that she could never break. That he would never be able to see inside her, to know her as deeply as he wished.

"With me," he said, his voice low and hoarse. "This time, come with me."

The found their release together. Lucy felt the warmth of his release in her belly. She felt his mouth at her neck and he bit her, locking his jaw. She felt no pain, only the heat and the perfect, consuming feeling of being so close to the body she craved. When the mark was finished, he was still not satisfied. He lifted her wrist and bit her half-moon scar, refusing to let go even as blood seeped sluggishly down her arm.

It was hot. So hot. But she had no desire to push him away. No ability to save herself. She felt him tending to her wounds as she drifted into a fitful sleep. There was no point. She felt certain that she had burned completely away. She was ash and all she could think of was being locked so close to him that she did not care to save herself.