Page 16 of Witches and Wine (The Mythical Mates of Arcane Cove #1)
No being in existence had ever thrown my mind off its fucking axis the way Chelsea Stewart has done.
Her desire, her willful participation, and the smoldering stare she gave my beast as it appeared inch by inch.
Most females only ever requested the horns once they’d seen me in full form, fearing the rest of me or finding it disdainful.
Not Chelsea. If anything, her lust deepened, and pure hellfire flashed in her wanting gaze.
Not once did she shy away from the maenads’ attention either, which only made my heart race faster.
As much as I wanted to keep my face buried in that sweet nectar collecting in her pussy, the pulsing need to be inside her was bordering on pain.
The beast would have none of it. It used to be an unruly creature in my youth, wreaking havoc and chaos in its path.
I hadn’t always possessed the ability either—a side effect from a powerful jealous goddess wishing to see me dead and almost succeeding.
A wolf shifter friend helped me control it, and I have used it many times through the centuries as a means of intimidation, very rarely unleashing it for sweaty rolls in the sheets.
But for Chelsea? My sexy, confident, powerful Chelsea, I’d transform into it whenever she damn well pleased.
Her ass was poised in the air, and Chelsea bent lower until her elbows rested on the moss of my forest throne. She peered at me over her shoulder, those emerald eyes going hooded, crimson flushing her cheeks from my tongue making her come.
Chelsea grabbed her ass cheeks and pulled them away from each other, revealing more of that pretty pink pussy she offered me. “What are you waiting for, Dion? Or are you going to make me beg for it?”
It was tempting, but not this time. The beast was all too consuming, lashing at my skull, and the blood rushing to my dick made it twitch several times, the tip already beading with pre-cum.
With a snarl, I grabbed her hips and drove into her, knowing from the glistening wetness coating her slit and trickling down the insides of her thighs she was already more than ready for me.
A sultry gasp followed by a moan fluttered from her porcelain throat, and she dug her nails into the stone.
Keeping hold of her waist with one hand, I moved the other to her shoulder, using it to drive her back onto me harder and faster.
The growls pushing from my gut were the sounds that only my beast could make, and knowing what Chelsea could mean to us, for us, fueled the raging fire, igniting it into an inferno.
This witch, this woman, could very well be my mate, and even if she wasn’t, I wanted to make her mine.
Chelsea threw her head back, slamming her ass against my stomach and pushing more of me inside her. “Fucking hell, Dion,” she groaned, a thin sheen of sweat forming down her spine.
Her ivory magic floated from her skin, giving her a shimmering silhouette.
It coiled her stomach and legs until it wrapped around my hips, encouraging me to take her, to conquer her.
Leaning forward and still thrusting, I reached between Chelsea’s legs, using a knuckle to rub her clit.
I trailed my tongue over the sweat collecting on her skin until I reached her shoulder, licking, kissing, and grazing my canines over her there.
It would be so quick. One bite. One blissful moment to sink my teeth into her, to mark her as mine.
But I couldn’t. Despite the beast’s disapproving tugs at my mind, I would not do it before we could talk about what it would mean.
Not only had Chelsea just been introduced to a magical world outside of Greek gods, but she was now a part of it.
It was all new territory for her and something the beast would have to fucking understand.
The maenads sat on the woodland grassy ground, draped over one another, watching us with lustful intrigue.
Some traced their fingers in that valley between their breasts, while others fingered themselves, getting off at the sight of us.
There was a time when there hadn’t been a night that would pass where I wouldn’t fuck every one of them through until the sun rose, but those days became fleeting in the last decade.
I’d changed. I’d transgressed. And the day I met Chelsea? My vision became tunneled only for her.
“I’m going to—” Chelsea cried, reaching for my hand.
Interlacing our fingers, I held onto her, pumping faster, harder, and making the satisfied sound of bodies slapping together. “Come for me, Red,” I groaned into her ear.
My words sent her into a spiral, and she clenched around my cock, her body pulsing and shivering through her orgasm until she became boneless in front of me.
But we weren’t finished. Grabbing onto the dip between her hips and ribs, I held her tight, thrusting into her, tilting my head at the sky, feeling the pressure reaching its tipping point at the base of my spine.
Just before it happened, I slid the rest of the way inside her, the bulbous part filling her, and I froze as I spilled inside of her.
Chelsea let out a gratifying, sensual cry when I’d pushed it inside her, her legs quivering as another orgasm waved over her from it.
I pulled out, lifting her into my arms when she wobbled on her feet, carrying her to a leafy cot canopied with overhanging branches, and rested her there.
Pressing my hips to her ass, I curled her against me and stroked her hair with my claws.
“Don’t change back. At least for tonight,” Chelsea whispered, her words sleepy and fading. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she let out a contented sigh.
Kissing the back of her head, I settled behind her. “I’d never change back if that’s what you wanted, mágissa .”
This ritualistic act of mating was enough to satiate the beast—for now.