Page 7

Six

W ick lay her down in the dirt and wished for fur.

It seemed… incorrect for her to be bare against the forest floor. Why, he didn’t know. When he voiced this, Briar smiled at him so brightly that the crisp scent of her amusement burned through her stress.

“I should only lie in the finest silks,” she said. “Thank you for noticing. Now, do get on with it.”

She spread her legs wider, exposing that thick patch of hair between her legs. Her folds glistened, and Wick’s mouth watered in response.

He lowered his head and licked a stripe up her thigh. She shuddered underneath him, her head tipping back.

“We can take our time,” she told him. “We have ages.”

It would probably be for the best. He genuinely needed to give his wings a rest. Wick had not realized how little he flew until he did it for a long stretch.

Briar did not weigh much, but he was feeling her additional weight after that flight, his wings aching where they were folded against his back.

Wick rubbed his mouth against the coarse hair at the apex of her legs.

Her skin pebbled under his touch. Her scent was intoxicating, if only there wasn’t that note of fear underneath it.

It was so small that Wick almost didn’t notice it, but every once in a while, it would flare, bitter and unwanted.

He sat up. “You are still fearful.”

Briar scoffed. For a moment, she was a flurry of contrasting emotions, all of them jumbling until he couldn’t tell them apart. She looked ashamed, which made little sense. Then she smiled, and the shame was gone.

“I’m not scared,” she insisted. “I just value my life. You’re a trustworthy Skullstalker! But you’re still a Skullstalker. And I don’t trust easy. Alright?”

“I would never hurt you unless I lost myself,” he reminded her. “And with your necklace, I will not.”

He touched the necklace where it lay between her naked breasts. The amulet was as big as his claw, but no bigger. The sight reminded him to retract his claws, which he did with haste—Briar’s skin was so breakable, after all.

He looked back up at her face. She was staring at him, her eyes wide and her expression unreadable.

Wick inhaled deeply. Her emotions were a confusing mix, and lust was only one of many.

“What is it?” he asked.

She shook her head. If he were only judging from her face, he would truly think nothing was wrong.

“Just not used to men being so worried about hurting me,” she said, her smile twisting wryly. “Or women, for that matter. You know that dead warlock jackass cursed me, so it had to be a man who came in me? Very inconvenient.”

“Very,” Wick agreed, trying to work out how a woman could possibly come inside her. The list of things he didn’t know about mortals was growing longer with every passing hour he spent with this strange mortal.

He licked between her legs again, his eyes falling shut in bliss as he tasted her for the second time. He had never tasted anything like it, heady and sweet and intoxicating.

Briar gasped, grabbing his horns. She smelled excited, the smell surrounding him as he pressed his tongue deeper.

Her folds parted around him as he pressed inside. She was tight, but she was slowly giving way, just as she had last night.

She tasted different. Saltier. More musk.

Me , Wick realized as he licked up his own come, still warm from last night. She tastes like me.

He licked eagerly, eating his spend out of her.

Briar moaned, lifting her legs onto his shoulders. “You know, I really thought I’d get eaten by a Skullstalker last night. I just didn’t think it would be like?—”

She cut off in a desperate moan as his tongue bumped a certain spot inside her. She arched against him, and Wick rubbed at the spot curiously with the tip of his tongue.

“Ohhhh shit ,” Briar said, her voice cracking. She was still grinning, her thighs shaking as she closed them tighter around his shoulders. “Right there, big boy.”

Wick rumbled against her. Nobody had given him a title other than “brother.” He liked being her big boy.

He thrust his tongue deeper, feeling her inner walls stretch. The delicious taste got headier the further he went, her wetness growing more copious. The air filled with the sound of their slickness. He was drooling, he could feel it dripping down her thighs and ass.

“Fuck,” Briar whispered. “Do I taste good? You’re making such a mess of me.”

Wick growled and pressed closer. He wanted to bury his face against her, shove his tongue as far as it could go.

He had never been hungry for another creature like this.

It was so close to frenzy, except it didn’t feel destructive.

Instead of tearing something apart, he was bringing her pleasure.

He had never made somebody smell like this before, all eagerness and excitement, the air so thick with it he could hardly tell it from his own.

Briar scraped her nails over the top of his skull mask where bone met skin, making him shiver. “I bet you’re so h-hard right now. Never met anyone who wants to get their tongue in me like you. Sounds like you’re gonna starve if you don’t.”

Mortals are fools if they do not long for this, Wick thought. He might be able to come from this alone if she told him to. He wanted nothing more than to stay here between her thighs and feel her spasm around his tongue; until he remembered how good she had felt around his cock.

Wick pulsed under his loincloth. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to hold her down and mount her, the urge old and deep, much like the blood frenzy.

He forced it back. He might be a monster, but he was not without reason.

He did not want her to be scared of him.

He would mate her only how she wanted to be mated.

And it wasn’t as if mating her with his tongue was a chore. His mouth watered longingly as he thrust his tongue deeper, last night’s spend trickling out around his tongue.

“Yes,” Briar breathed, her cheeks bright with ecstasy. “Eat it out of me. Gonna fill me up with a new load soon, huh? Will you eat it out of me every day?”

Yes , Wick thought desperately. He gripped her thighs as hard as he dared, taking care to keep his claws retracted as he plunged deeper and deeper.

He made sure to graze that spot inside her that made her buck against him, slick coating his tongue.

Soon she was writhing against the ground, her breath coming prey-fast.

“Oh,” she whined, her eyes clenched shut and her muscles tense as her hips worked against him. “Oh, there, yes, Wick ?—”

She broke off in a triumphant cry and stilled, shaking. A flood of delicious slick gushed out around Wick’s tongue, and he groaned as he lapped it up.

He worked her until Briar shuddered violently, pulling at his horns.

“C’mon,” she breathed. “Get in me already. Stretched me out good, I can take it.”

He pulled his tongue out reluctantly. There was a small, flushed nub at the top of her opening; she had been rubbing it last night, he remembered now.

He licked it curiously. Briar made a noise not unlike a sob, her whole body contracting.

Wick sat back, alarmed.

Briar grabbed his horn. “Feels good,” she assured him. “Touch that when you’re inside me, okay? Gently .”

“Okay,” Wick said. It was difficult to speak right now. Like his body was only made for grunts and roaring.

He climbed over her and untied his loincloth. He was dropping it to the forest floor when he smelled a sharp tinge of fear.

He looked down at Briar. She did not look distressed, and lust still hung thick in the air. But there was no mistaking that fear, acrid and stinging.

He was looming over her, he realized. It was probably unnerving to have a monster pinning you down like this.

“Sorry,” he said, leaning back.

She caught his horn again. Her teeth dug into her lower lip, chest heaving as she considered.

Wick waited. “Briar?”

“It’s okay,” Briar said. “Just… give me a second.”

She pushed him back enough for her to get on her hands and knees. The sight made Wick’s heart thud in his chest, especially when she looked over her shoulder and closed one eye at him.

“Okay,” she said. “Have at me.”

She ground back against him. His cock twitched against her ass cheeks, and he forgot to be disappointed that he could no longer see her face.

He lined himself up against her lower hole, remembering how she had positioned herself last night. How long she had rocked herself on his cockhead before it had finally slipped inside.

He pressed in carefully. It took several passes for the cockhead to fit inside, after which he had to grip her hips and stop himself from shoving in as deep as he could, pressing all four ridges inside.

Slow , he reminded himself. You do not want to hurt her.

He thrusted shallowly, shaking with the effort of restraining himself. But her moans were so pretty, the scent of her lust clouding his head until his blood roared.

He pushed in further. The first ridge popped inside, and Briar cried out.

Wick squeezed her waist. “You enjoy that.”

“I do!” Briar giggled, her mouth open as she panted. “N-never had a cock like this before.”

Wick frowned. Apparently, he had been wrong about mortal cocks. “Mortals do not have ridges?”

“No,” she said breathlessly. “Just Skullstalkers.”

He wanted to mention that not all Skullstalkers had ridges. But then she was pushing back against him, and all thoughts flooded out of his mind except how good she felt around him.

He pushed deeper, fitting the second ridge into her tight hole.

Briar groaned. A drop of sweat rolled down her spine. He leaned down and licked it up, feeling her quake under his touch.

“ Oh ,” she gasped, her eyelids fluttering each time his ridges caught on her hole. “Oh, oh, ohhh !”

She was not smiling anymore, her mouth twitching as if she would like to, but each thrust ruined her intention. Her hands clawed at the earth, a giddy laugh puffing out of her as he worked his cock into her, two ridges deep.