Ch. 41
He grabs my hips and thrusts up, the hard ridge of his erection pressing against my aching pussy.
"Wake!" I gasp.
"Yes?" he purrs, one of his hands sliding up to cup my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple.
"Make love to me."
"Make love," He moves his other hand up to my free breast, and together he kneads them with slow, sensual motions that make my clit throb and my sex swell. "You say this, but my people do not know this term."
For some reason, hearing this makes me a little sad. "Is it the act of love making that you're people don't practice...or is it love in general?"
His large hands slide across the curves and plains of my body almost reverently as he considers my question. "When mates come together it is passionate, sometimes violent. I was not born to a gentle people, Phoebe. Perhaps you are correct in presuming that sirens, as you call us, are incapable of love."
I pull away as much as he will allow and place a hand against his heart, "I don't think that about you. You've never treated me with anything but care, even when you've had no reason to."
His grip on me tightens painfully, "You are mine. It is in my nature to protect what I possess, not to nurture."
"So, I'm nothing but an object to you? Something to own?" I ask, trying and failing to hide the sting of his honesty.
He chuffs with frustration. "To my people...to protect is to honor. To honor is to show the highest form of respect." He cups me by the back of the head and pulls me close until our foreheads touch, "You are my mate. I would fight, kill, and die for you. It is all that I know. Can you accept that?"
"I'm not afraid. I want to learn what it means to be your mate," I say.
His chest rumbles with approval, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through me. "Your kind and mine are not alike," he warns, but all I hear is a challenge. "There will be things about me that will disappoint you. Some may terrify you.”
"I'm not afraid," I say again, the time with conviction. "I want you, Wake. I want to be your mate. I don't give a damn about the details."
As soon as I say it, I know I'll regret it. But not tonight.
Our mouths crash together at the same time our bodies do. Wake shoves inside me in one swift stroke.
I cry out in shock at the sudden invasion, but he's too far gone to slow down, and all I want is to fall alongside him. He pounds into me with brutal force, his hands gripping my hips and waist with bruising force. I love it. I love his savagery, his desperation. His complete and total loss of control.
I cling to his neck and rock into him, meeting his every thrust. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoes through the cavern, and the scent of sex saturates the air.
"Don't stop," I beg when I feel myself nearing the edge. My eyes are squeezed shut, and I'm focused entirely on the feel of his body joined with mine. "Oh God, Wake!"
"Yes," he snarls, his lips and teeth grazing my throat. "Give yourself to me, Phoebe. All of yourself."
The orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, sending me plummeting into an abyss of pure pleasure. My scream bounces off the walls, echoing in my ears as my muscles convulse around Wake's cock. He roars, then buries himself deep and erupts inside me.
I come so hard that I can't stop shivering, and I can't catch my breath. And yet I want more.
As if sensing this, Wake slides his arms under my legs and lifts, spreading me open as he pushes deeper, his body hard and unyielding.
His eyes blaze, the obsidian fire nearly glittering in the darkness of the cave. "Look at me," he orders, voice harsh. "Do you see what you do to me? What you've done to me since the day we met?"
"Wake—"
"I command legions. I do not lose control." He moves slowly now, each stroke a sensual torture that threatens to drive me straight over the edge.
He lowers his head, his mouth skimming my ear, his hot breath causing a rush of goosebumps to race up my arms and down my spine. "This is what you do to me, Phoebe. This is what it means to be mated to a Lord of the Deep."
He cups my ass and drives into me with renewed fervor, and I can do nothing but hold on for the ride, my body his to take and to use as he wishes.
I love the way he fucks me.
My orgasm starts in my toes, curling them, and then it races upward, flaring in my belly and then exploding in a blinding flash that leaves me panting and breathless. A heartbeat later, he slams his mouth to mine in a kiss that steals the last of my air as he shudders and roars his release.
My legs are shaking by the time he finally pulls out of me and lays me against his chest. My heart is pounding so hard I'm pretty sure I'm surprised it doesn't stop altogether.
His hands stroke my back, my sides, my ass. Touching me, holding me.
Comforting me.
I relax in his embrace, wondering what it would be like to have a man—a male—like this every day. He's always so gentle and caring, even while fucking like a wild thing, but I know his gentleness is something he reserves only for me. He's brutal to others. Deadly. He can be that way with me too if he wants, but he hasn't yet.
As we lie together in the dark, tears wet my cheeks as I wonder how long that will last.
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