Page 3

Three

B riar half-expected him to pounce on her.

True, he hadn’t eaten her yet. But he was still a Skullstalker. They were not known for their lack of appetite. If they wanted something, they would grab it.

But he didn’t grab her. There was no pouncing. He only knelt there, so huge his bulk blocked out the moonlight streaming in from the mouth of the cave.

Briar frowned. Is he waiting for me? It seemed an incredibly polite thing to do, especially for a monster like him. Maybe Skullstalkers didn’t have sexual urges like humans. Maybe?—

Before she could ponder his urges anymore, another rush of pain swarmed over her and made her cry out.

Wick straightened, his ears pricking up in concern. “Briar?”

“We better get this show on the road,” Briar said, gritting her teeth in a smile. “What are you waiting for, big boy?”

He did not make any acknowledgment of the nickname. Nor did he react when she placed her hand on his strange, pale chest, the highest part of him she could reach.

She shivered. His skin was so cold. But it would have to do if she wanted to survive another day.

She slid a hand down his belly until she reached his loincloth. Still, he did not move, staring down at her with those odd fiery eyes. She could only see half of his face under the skull mask, but she got the feeling he was out of his depth.

She gave him the best smile she could manage despite the pain. “I was kind of expecting you to ravish me, Wick. Time’s a-wasting.”

“Oh,” said Wick, as if just remembering what they were doing. “Yes.”

Then his hands were on her, so huge they encompassed her whole waist. Briar let out a gasp as he dragged her onto her back. The nest was shockingly comfortable. A few feathers poked into her sides, but the fur was heavenly.

He tugged at her belt with a confused frown. It took her a moment to realize what he was confused about.

“Buckle,” she explained, working at it. She would have laughed if she wasn’t stuck between fear and pain—she was lying under a Skullstalker, explaining what a belt buckle was so he could get her pants off and fuck her.

She fought down a wave of nerves as she slipped her shoes off, then her pants.

She’d been with some shady characters since the curse—voids, even before it—but she’d always done her best to make things as good as they could be.

Which was fine if he were some drunk who could hardly get it up and was having her out the back of some grimy tavern.

But it was trickier when he was a literal monster , looming over her with those huge fangs and claws.

At least he had a nice mouth. Even with the skull mask above it and the fangs inside it, his mouth was rather beautiful.

“Okay,” Briar said, her voice higher than she intended. “Let me see what we’re working with.”

Wick, at least, understood that. He tugged at his loincloth. It pooled around his knees, and Briar’s mouth fell open.

With shock, of course. But also, with a surprising amount of lust. He was massive, even half-hard, and he was… mostly human. There were a set of thick ridges circling his cock, which perked up under her gaze.

“Wow,” Briar said faintly.

Wick grunted. “I am small for a Skullstalker. I… should be able to fit.”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Briar said, instead of what she really wanted to say, which was You’re SMALL? What the fuck do BIG Skullstalkers look like? And why do you sound so unsure?

She tensed against the nest, a pained shudder working through her body. It was almost to her heart; they were running out of time.

“Look,” she said. “I know we’re on a time limit, but I can’t fit that inside me without some warming up.”

“Oh,” Wick said. He paused. Then he reached up and started to rub her arms uncertainly.

Briar laughed so loud it made them both jump.

She kept expecting him to go feral on her, whether he wanted to or not.

To show her this “blood frenzy” he had mentioned.

But he acted like some city gentleman who had never been alone in a room with a woman.

She had met many of the sort, usually before stealing something important and slipping out of their lives for good.

She never stayed long enough to get attached. It was better that she kept her heart to herself.

“Not like that. Warming up, like…” She eyed his pretty mouth dubiously. “I would get you to eat me out, but I don’t love the look of those fangs.”

“Eat you… out ,” Wick repeated, confused.

It made her wonder just how crude Skullstalker mating was. Did they not even go down on each other? How awful.

“With your tongue,” she explained. “Inside me. But since you have those fangs?—”

She cut off with a yelp as he leaned down and opened her legs. There was a moment when he just sat there, staring at her folds. Then he spread them with two huge fingers—Briar twitched with relief when she realized he could retract his claws—and rolled his tongue into her, huge and long and pink.

Briar yelled, grabbing his horns. She’d never felt something like this before. And by the shocked rumble that Wick made, neither had he.

He pressed closer, nuzzling into her. The barest hint of fangs brushed her folds. The bottom of his skull mask grazed her clit.

Briar jerked. Another incredulous giggle spilled out of her. The fiery curse-pain was still there, but his tongue was a wonderful distraction. However, nothing would be a good distraction if the pain finally reached her heart.

Wick dragged her closer, his fangs bumping against her skin once more.

Briar shuddered. She was scared—how could she not be scared with a Skullstalker between her legs? But she had bigger things to worry about. Namely, getting herself loose enough to take his monstrous cock.

She threw her head back, focusing on the pleasure to try to speed up the process.

His tongue was so far inside, working her open.

She squeezed his horns, shocked to realize that she could actually come like this.

While she tried to make sure she had a good time, she didn’t always come these days. Survival mattered most.

Briar reached down to rub her clit. That telltale feeling was building in her stomach, ready to release.

Wick growled. The vibrations were what finally did her in, sending a thrilling buzz through her core.

“I’m going to come,” she warned.

He made another low, delicious grumble. His grip tightened around her waist, holding her down against the nest.

Briar cried out, her legs locking over his shoulders as she came. It washed over her in pulsing waves, growing stronger with each thrust of his tongue.

Wick’s growl grew louder. He shoved his face harder against her, and Briar jolted as his fangs pressed against her hard enough to sting. The orgasm was fading, the fear creeping back as she felt his fangs.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Briar warned him.

Wick made another rumbling noise and pulled back. His chin was slick with her wetness, his huge tongue lapping up a sticky trail on her thigh before pulling back.

“You taste good,” he rasped.

Briar shivered. The fire in his strange black eyes was swelling, just like the curse around her heart. Fleeing from a flame only to get saved by a flame, she thought nonsensically.

Wick nosed at her knee, his skull mask pressing into her skin. “Are you warm enough?”

Pain raced through Briar’s ribs. She bit her tongue to stop another cry of pain. It didn’t matter if she was loose enough; she was out of time.

“Lie down,” she gasped.

Wick blinked. She pushed at his chest, feeling the soft give of cold, pale skin over his muscles. It took a moment before Wick moved to comply, lying down on his back in the nest with his wings splayed out over the nest.

Briar crawled over him. She actually preferred other positions, but she was not about to let a Skullstalker be the one in control right now.

She was still shocked he was giving her this much.

Every time he moved, she expected him to push her to the nest and rut her like an animal.

Which was… surprisingly hot, now that she thought about it.

But it was the kind of hot that was better in dreams than reality.

Right now, she was in pain and trying very hard not to be scared, even as her legs shook with aftershocks.

Wick only moved to place his hands on her hips. He was staring up at her, his mouth slack and stained with her juices. If Briar didn’t know any better, she would say he looked amazed.

“Stay,” she told him.

After a moment, Wick nodded.

She knelt on his legs and eyed the big, thick cock standing proudly between them. He was even bigger now that he was fully hard. The ridges around his width had grown rosy in a way that made her mouth water.

Briar ignored it. This was no time for ambitious blowjobs. She was on a time limit.

She braced herself over his length. Another rush of burning pain surged around her heart, so intensely she could barely stay kneeling.

Wick steadied her. “You smell worse.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, shaking with pain. It was now or never.

She took a calming breath and positioned his cockhead at her entrance. Then she started to sink down.

It was a stretch . It took multiple thrusts for her to even fit the cockhead, and by the time it finally popped in, they were both moaning.

Well, she was moaning. Wick was making a low, guttural growl that should have made her skin crawl.

Instead, it made her feel… wanted. Which was not a feeling she was unused to.

She had actually grown tired of it. But the idea that he was growling like that, those clawed hands twitching against her hips, so obviously affected, and yet he was staying still just like she asked…

It might have been enough for her to trust him if he were human.

The hot pain was receding. Not dissipating—not yet. But it was draining away the more she rode him.

Briar rolled her hips. His cock slipped deeper inside, bumping against his first ridge. She rocked down again, and they both gasped as the ridge sank into her.