Page 21 of Collar Me Crazy (Hollow Oak Mates #8)

SONYA

T he pull hit Sonya while she was having breakfast at the inn, sudden and overwhelming. Not pain, but anguish so raw it made her drop her coffee cup and gasp. Somewhere, Ryker was hurting, and her newfound connection to him made his distress impossible to ignore.

"Everything alright, dear?" Miriam asked, moving quickly to clean up the spilled coffee.

"I need to go." Sonya was already reaching for her coat. "Something's wrong."

She didn't wait for a response, following the pull that led her out of town and toward the sanctuary. The November morning was crisp and clear, but storm clouds were building on the horizon again, both literal and metaphorical.

The sanctuary felt different when she arrived, charged with the kind of energy that came before lightning strikes. She found Ryker in the main cabin, standing with his back to the door and his shoulders rigid with tension.

"You shouldn't be here," he said without turning around.

"Probably not. But here I am anyway." She closed the door behind her, noting the way his hands clenched at his sides. "What happened?"

"Varric. The full prophecy. Everything you and I suspected and more." His voice was rough, like he'd been shouting or screaming. "You need to leave, Sonya. Now, before this gets worse."

"No."

"You don't understand. The sacrifice the prophecy mentions, it's not just about me. It's about both of us. Whatever choice we make, whatever happens next, you're going to pay the price too."

"Then we'll pay it together." She moved closer, despite every self-preservation instinct screaming at her to run. "I'm not leaving you to face this alone."

"Why?" He spun to face her, and the pain in his green eyes nearly brought her to her knees. "Why won't you just walk away? Find someone safe, someone normal, someone who won't drag you into cosmic consequences?"

“Because I’ve spent my whole life alone with visions that no one else could carry. You’re the first person I’ve ever felt connected to. And it isn’t just the bond.” Her voice dropped. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“I am something to be feared.”

“So am I.”

Her words seemed to unravel something in him. When she reached up and pressed her palm to his jaw, stubble rasped against her skin. His big hand covered hers, trapping it there.

“What if they’re right?” he whispered, breath shaky. “What if loving you destroys everything?”

“What if it saves everything instead?”

Their lips met like gravity, inevitable and earth-shaking. His kiss was fierce, desperate, like he needed to brand her mouth into memory. She pulled him closer by his shirt, fingers tangling in burnished copper strands of his hair.

“Sonya,” he murmured against her lips, torn between worship and warning.

She answered with a kiss that said she didn’t care about warnings anymore.

He lifted her, carrying her through to the bedroom. The quilts smelled of pine and winter, and she barely had time to register the space before his mouth was back on hers, insistent, hot.

“Are you sure?” His voice was low, dangerous with need.

“More sure than I’ve ever been.”

She unbuttoned his flannel, peeling it off to reveal the body she’d only glimpsed until now. Lean muscle carved from years of survival, skin kissed by sun, chest dusted with auburn hair that begged for her hands. She pressed her palms flat against him, delighting in the way his breath hitched.

“Fuck, Sonya,” he growled.

Her sweater joined his shirt on the floor.

His hands were reverent, sliding over her curves, calloused thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts through her bra until she arched into him.

He kissed her throat, her collarbone, every inch he could reach like he had all the time in the world, though the tremor in his body betrayed his hunger.

“I need you naked,” he muttered.

“Then take what you need.”

Her jeans slid away beneath his hands, leaving her in nothing but lace. His gaze lingered, green eyes burning so hot her skin flushed under the weight of it.

“Beautiful,” he rasped. “Every fucking inch of you.”

He kissed down her stomach, hooked his thumbs into her panties, and pulled them away with agonizing slowness. His breath warmed the inside of her thigh.

“Ryker—” Her voice broke into a gasp when his mouth covered her pussy, tongue stroking her folds with exquisite pressure.

She clawed at the quilt, hips bucking into his mouth. His hands held her steady, fingers digging into her thighs as he feasted like a man starved.

“You taste like sin,” he growled against her, before sucking her clit hard enough she cried out his name.

Her visions flared—fragments of fire, broken veils, his green eyes—but she shoved them aside, grounding herself in the feel of his tongue plunging deep into her pussy, his lips relentless until her climax ripped through her, sharp and blinding.

“Ryker—oh God, Ryker?—”

He rose, licking her taste from his lips, eyes wild. She reached for his belt, fingers frantic.

“I need your cock inside me,” she demanded, raw with urgency.

His growl vibrated against her chest as he shed the rest of his clothes. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, flushed with need. For a moment, she just stared, heat pooling between her thighs again.

“You’re staring,” he teased, though his voice cracked with restraint.

“Trying to figure out how all of that’s supposed to fit,” she shot back, though her body ached for him already.

He pressed her back into the mattress, quilts bunching beneath her, his weight hovering just enough to let her feel the strength in his body without crushing her.

The blunt head of his cock nudged against her slick folds, hot and insistent, and she trembled at the promise of what was about to happen.

“Ryker…” Her voice broke on his name, equal parts plea and invitation.

He guided himself lower, dragging the swollen head through her wetness before pressing at her entrance.

The stretch made her gasp, sharp and needy.

He pushed in slowly, forcing himself to go inch by relentless inch, and the sensation of being opened around him made her nails bite deep into his shoulders.

“Fuck—you’re so big—” Her words came out half-moan, half-cry, her pussy fluttering as her body struggled to take him.

“Too much?” His voice shook, hoarse with restraint. A vein pulsed at his throat as he held himself still, every muscle locked tight as if he might break if she said yes.

“No,” she panted, clinging to him, her eyes locked on his. “Perfect. You feel… perfect.”

He sank the last inch, burying himself to the hilt, cock seated deep inside her. She cried out, overwhelmed by the fullness, the stretch, the way her body molded around him like it had been waiting for this exact moment. His breath was ragged above her, jaw tight, emerald eyes dark with hunger.

“Sonya.” Just her name, but spoken like it was a curse and a surrender all at once.

Then he started to move. Slow thrusts at first, each drag of his cock pulling sparks of pleasure from her core.

The thick slide in and out made her moan into his mouth as he kissed her, his tongue stroking hers in time with his hips.

He ground his pelvis against her clit at the end of each stroke, and the rhythm stole her breath.

“Ryker—God—” She couldn’t form anything more coherent, not with the way he filled her, hit every nerve ending, set her body aflame.

Their eyes stayed locked, his gaze fierce and tender, the wolf in him staring out from behind that green fire.

“This,” he rasped, his voice raw as his thrusts grew deeper, each word punctuated by the snap of his hips. “This is what I was afraid of. Wanting you so much I’d burn the world down to keep it.”

She clutched his face, dragging his mouth back to hers, moaning against his lips. “Then let it burn,” she whispered fiercely. “I’m yours. All of me. Take it.”

His control, his restraint, it all fell apart and he slammed into her harder. The bed creaked beneath the force, every thrust primal and consuming. The slap of skin against skin echoed in the cabin, mingled with her cries and his guttural groans.

“Sonya… fuck, Sonya…” His voice was desperate, like he was unraveling inside her.

“Oh my God, don’t stop, Ryker!” Her scream tore out of her throat as he pounded deeper, faster, his cock driving her toward the edge with merciless precision. She wrapped her legs higher around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, the angle sending shocks of white-hot pleasure through her.

Her pussy tightened around him, tight and needy, milking his cock as the pressure spiraled higher and higher. Her vision fractured—heat, light, the wolf in his eyes—and then her orgasm tore through her. She convulsed around him, trembling as wave after wave of pleasure shook her apart.

“Yes… oh, fuck—” Her voice was ragged, broken by cries of ecstasy.

Ryker roared, the sound rough and guttural, his body jerking as he thrust deep one final time. His cock pulsed inside her, spilling heat as his release crashed into hers, their bodies locked in a devastating, perfect rhythm that felt like the world itself had narrowed to just them.

When it was over, he collapsed against her, still buried inside, chest heaving, sweat-slick skin pressed tight to hers. She stroked his damp hair back from his forehead, kissing the corner of his mouth as he murmured her name again like it was the only word that mattered.