Page 68

Story: Caelon

“The rules said no touching until I found you,” I murmur against his cheek.

“They did,” he says, his voice thick with lust and adoration. “So touch me.”

I lean down and run my tongue along the edge of his ear. “Why did you do this? The game I mean?”

His fingers flex against the dirt. “Because I wanted you to hunt me like I’ve been hunting you. I wanted you to have the chance to claim me in the ways I’ve already claimed you.”

My throat tightens.

I kiss him.

There’s nothing soft or sweet about it.

It’s wild. Hungry. His lips crush against mine like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life, and maybe he has.

With my hands braced on each side of his head, I roll my hips against him, feeling his dick press against me, hard and hot even through the layers between us. He groans—low and guttural, the kind that makes my toes curl. He lets himself go and the feelings rush through him.

“Selene,” he says breathily.

I rock slowly, moving against him. Feeling his muscles coil tightly with each rock of my hips. My teeth bite down on my lower lip as I watch him unravel. Watch him fight every instinct to take control. It’s so fucking hot watching what I do to him. I roll my hips up his impressive length, stopping when my core hits the blunt head of his dick. Pushing down against it, teasing him with the idea of thrusting up into me.

He was letting me have this, even though I could see just how hard he was fighting against his own urges.

Leaning down, I run my nose along his neck, blowing softly against his sweat slick skin as the bumps pop and he shivers. “You’re mine.” My lips brush against his ear as I say, “You know that right?”

A soft breath leaves him. His voice shakes as he answers me, “Always have been.”

My lips drag along his jaw before I lean up and look down at him. I know my eyes are glowing when I see them reflecting in his blown pupils. In a voice not entirely my own, “That’s a good boy,” I say before I sink my teeth into the curve of his throat. The coppery taste of his blood hits my tongue as his chest rises off the ground.

His dick jumps between us as if it could bust out his pants at any second. I can feel our bond strengthening with each passing second as the lust from him comes pouring in like a fountain onfull blast. Our arousals mingle until there’s no way to determine whose is whose.

His whole body shudders.

And then he flips us. My teeth release from his neck with a pop as I hit the ground, a feral Caelon hovering over the top of me. My tongue licks along my canines grabbing every possible drop as I run my finger along his bite mark gathering more. Sucking my finger dry as I chuckle.

His chest heaves, his eyes glowing that beautiful crystalline blue, the one that haunted my dreams for weeks. His claws dig into the dirt beside my head as he presses me further into the ground.

“Claim me big boy, I’m all yours.”

That’s all it takes. Like the beast he is, his teeth clamp down in the same spot that I marked him. With one hand he reaches down between us, wasting no more time, he rips another of my black leggings before shucking off his own shorts. I can’t even find it in myself right now to care about those leggings, all I can think about is his teeth in my neck and his dick pressing into me.

There isn’t any hesitation, he doesn’t wait a single second before he thrusts forward, slamming to the hilt into me. I feel it before I understand it—like a tsunami wave crashing to shore. One second I’m feeling the suck of his mouth along my neck, the pull of my blood, the fullness of him settled into me—the next I feel the world almost pause.

He growls against my neck, guttural, lower, wilder.

He pulls back, chest rising and falling sharply, shaky breaths leaving him, eyes feral and glowing brightly. I know that look, I’ve heard about it.

Rut.

It pulls him under like a rip current taking the very breath from him. Leaving him no choice, but to submit.

His head thrashes as he tries to gain control, but there’s no fighting nature.

He’s trying to hold back for my sake.

I can see it in the way his hands are trembling as he grasps his hair. His jaw clenches, a flicker of resistance—then another growl tears out of him and I know it’s over.

He’s gone.