Baring the Thorn (The Mountain Tribe #3)

Chapter 24

I need no other invitation.

I slam my lips over hers, hard enough that a gasp presses out of her, hard enough that our teeth clash.

I am rough. I am hungry. I give her no inch.

I sweep my tongue within her mouth, suck on her bottom lip, and bite at the top. I kiss her like I am underwater and she is oxygen, like I am a man starved and she is tender meat. I possess her mouth with my own as though it - as though all of her - belongs to me. I do not let her breathe, I do not need air anymore, I lock my mouth against her like I can push my very life into her.

While my tongue pierces her mouth, I rock my hips into Samara, and feel the slickness between her thighs drag over my cock. We moan together, desperate and raw, the sounds shared between us.

I reach down with my good hand to adjust her so that I can push my length against the core of her, but it leaves the rest of my weight on my bad arm, and I collapse on top of her.

A sharp gasp explodes from me at the sudden shock of pain through my body, and Samara squeaks as my weight comes down over her.

“Thorn!” Her voice is strained. “Are you okay? What happened?”

I push off her, lying on my side, and try to breathe through the pain in my arm. I am so furious with myself, with my useless body, that I ball my fists, wanting to wreck violence on something.

I have ruined the moment. I have ruined this night. I have ruined everything because of my wounded arm.

A sickening mixture of shame and frustration curdles in my gut as I hold the offending arm to my chest.

“I am sorry, I-” I have to take another breath through the anger and searing ache. “I hurt you, I should not have-”

“Hey,” the female cups my face in her hands, and her expression is tender despite my fumbling, my grunts of pain, despite the fact that I just crushed her beneath me. “It’s fine. Your arm still needs to heal. Why don’t you lie on your back and I can do the work?”

I hesitate, and already the waves of pain are fading, or at the very least, I have been distracted. I do not know what she means by this, but I am eager to find out.

I turn until my back is flat on the furs and she is kneeling over my legs.

She has a mischievous glint in her eye, and I watch in shock as she does not straddle me, but instead reaches for my cock with her hands, and, to my wordless amazement, brings it towards her mouth.

Her tongue laves up my shaft, from the base to the tip, where she swirls around the head, and the air punches out of my lungs.

I grip the furs at my sides until my knuckles are white, staring in awe as she continues her teasing ministrations. Her touch is feathery and sweat begins to bead my brow from the light pressure.

Too light, too little.

She presses delicate kisses to the top, tracing her tongue along the thick vein against the underside, and all the while her gaze stays fixed with mine, molten brown with curling, long lashes.

“Samara-…I-” my voice does not sound like my own anymore. I am shaking with need. “I did not know… ah -”

“Then let me show you,” she purrs, desire flooding her eager face. She is not upset by my lack of experience. In one fluid movement, she lowers her head and sucks my cock down her throat.

My skull slams back into the ground so hard that my teeth clatter.

Samara’s mouth creates a hot, wet, channel of suction, causing stars to explode across my vision. I buck my hips up with a groan, loud enough to echo in the cave.

It is… like nothing I could have imagined.

It is divine, the pleasure her mouth pulls from my cock. Completely new and yet innately natural. I do not waste time questioning it. I had no idea such a kiss was possible, and that it would feel so incredible.

I have to bite my lip so that I do not spill onto her soft, little tongue.

I throw my head forward, needing to see her.

Samara groans around me, and I cannot tear my eyes away from the lovely image she creates, head bent, and plump lips stretched around me, her cheeks red with the effort to take all of me in.

Her wet hair cascades over my thighs, creating warm rivulets of water that trace over my sensitive skin with each bob of her head.

She pulls back, enough that my cock head rests on her tongue, and I watch her greedily suck on the moisture that leaks from my slit, the little pearls of white.

Incredible female.

I think there must be no sight better than her lapping at me, but then she pulls me all the way down to my base, and I growl into the open air. She has swallowed me whole, so deep and so far down her hungry throat that her eyes glisten with moisture and the blush on her cheeks deepens.

I plant a hand over her head, spearing my fingers through her hair and gripping handfuls of it.

“Wait,” I pant. “I will not last long.”

Samara releases me to give me a challenging look. “No holding back, remember?”

I groan when she lowers her head again and sucks me back into the hot velvet between her lips. Her eyes close and she releases a rumbling moan around me.

My sac tightens against my body, my neck breaking out in sweat, as she draws me quickly towards a desperate, blinding, raw release. I grip her head with one hand, not so much guiding her pulls as drawn into her movements.

She is the one in control, she is the one whose tongue and cheeks sing along my flesh as though pulling out of me my very soul.

I shake under her. “Look at me, female-… need your…. eyes on me.”

Her gaze flashes to mine, starved, half-wild, achingly sweet.

I could not look away, could not pull my body from her if I wanted to, I am utterly and helplessly hers.

Something passes between us, the possessiveness of her mouth, that expansive ocean of feeling for each other, devotion, longing, wells of tenderness. Something in me is open and raw, and if I had any secrets left, she would be able to see them all, to pull them into her as she does my cock.

I am pinned by her gaze, her touch, and it is with those dark eyes staring into my soul that I find my peak.

I thrust between her lips with each dip of her head and roar my release down her throat. Samara drinks it in. She takes all that I have to give to her, like we promised each other, sucking all that is inside of me.

Then she pulls back with a contented, lazy smile, as if she has not just altered the very earth beneath me.

I grip her shoulders and drag her up my shaking body, needing her closer.

I kiss her hard and hungry, taste the salt of myself on her smooth tongue, and I groan at the musky flavor of the two of us, combined and tangled as our bodies are.

“Wicked female.” A rumbled growl escapes me. “It is a shame. I did not want to spill my seed in your mouth tonight.”

She arches a brow. “Oh yeah? Where do you want to come?”

I hesitate.

We had not discussed this since the attack and since our fight.

I want Samara, for the rest of our lives, whether it be two years more or forty. I want to see her belly rounded with my young. I want to see her with my child in her arms and silver curls in her hair. I want to see the toned flesh against mine soften with age and the lines on her eyes to deepen when she smiles.

I want her forever.

I clear my throat. “I wanted to mate with you, tonight, my fierce little female. But I do not want to do anything you are not ready for.”

Samara smiles, her words thoughtful. “You know how stubborn I am. Do you really think I’d let anything happen that I’m not ready for?”

“I need to hear you say it,” I admit. “I need to know.”

She gazes at me, her expression open and vulnerable. “I want you, too. In every way. I came so close to losing you, and it was the most afraid I’ve ever been in my life. And when you were dying I had so many regrets. I wished that we hadn’t fought, and you hadn’t lied, but… I thought of all the time we wasted, too. I don’t want to waste any more denying what I want. If I get pregnant then it’ll be…the greatest blessing.”

I blink at my female with her misty eyes and feel such an overpowering surge of possessiveness that I am dizzy with it.

Samara is not just my female, she is not just a partner, she is like the wind that whistles by or the rains that cascade over the country, she is everything and she is everywhere, and she is life itself.

There is no life without her, and there is no happiness if she is gone.

I kiss her until she is breathless, “Then take what you want, my Samara. All of it belongs to you anyways.”