Chapter 8 8

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Even my heat paused for a moment to take in the vision of his glistening torso, how the rivulets streamed down the defined muscles of his abs, and how droplets formed on his golden treasure trail.

My lips parted with a soft, appreciative moan, and my mouth formed the words, "I need you."

"I'm here." He rolled me to my back, unfastened the tie of my dress, and pulled it open, laying me bare. As the water cooled, the furnace inside me continued to burn.

My wolf panted, seeming to have recovered from the destruction of Grog's wolf. Perhaps I'd gotten her wrong this entire time. Perhaps she had wanted to kill him for herself. Hot, desperate need clouded my thoughts as Fenrir parted my thighs and stared down at my sex.

My gaze traveled down to the waistband of his pants. His erection strained through its leather fabric, the sight of it making my mouth water.

"Fenrir," I said, my voice breathy.

"Forgive me, Lydia," he murmured. "But I need to commit this moment to memory. Even for a second."

Somehow, my body must have known what was about to happen because the heat flaring through it was an intense arousal instead of the usual pain. Maybe having the man I wanted close by was satisfying my mating urge. Maybe it was because he was the wolf god. Either way, the muscles that had tightened before relaxed in preparation for his body.

I reached for one of the hands on my knees and brushed against his thick fingers. "Nervous?"

His gaze burned through me with a force more intense than the heat. "Something was missing in my life from the moment I was born. Until this moment, I didn't realize it was you."

"That's exactly how I feel." I squeezed his hand. "This might not be the most romantic of situations, with us both covered in blood, but I'm glad we're finally together."

Fenrir leaned in and pressed a kiss on my inner thigh. With my body so hot and oversensitized, the touch of his lips felt like an electric shock. Pleasure zinged along my nerves and traveled across my skin, making me shudder.

His second kiss, combined with the cascade of cold water, eased my fever, and the third added to the slickness of my folds.

"Take off your pants." I fumbled for his fly, my fingers brushing against the thick erection trapped beneath his waistband.

Fenrir hissed through his teeth. "You're lucky my body knows it needs to provide for your heat, otherwise that touch would have had me cumming in my breeches."

I giggled, my insides filling with joy. My fingers slipped and trembled over the wet buttons so much that Fenrir took pity on me and unfastened his fly.

As soon as the fabric parted, his thick length sprang free. Veins stood out across its impressive length, and its head was dark and bulbous with arousal. I licked my lips again, wanting a taste, but a rush of hot yearning focused my attention on my needy sex.

"Fuck me," I whispered.

Fenrir groaned, his eyes glazing with lust. "I've got to taste you first."

I gulped. "All right."

He lowered his head and continued his path of kisses down my thigh. Each touch of his lips sent new explosions of pleasure across my core, but with every passing heartbeat, the heat intensified.

I was about to demand that he just fuck me right now, when his tongue slid down the entire length of my slit. Molten ecstasy spread across my belly, making the muscles of my legs convulse.

"Fenrir," I said from between clenched teeth. "Hurry."

His tongue flickered over my clit and lavished me with a pleasure that wrapped around my core like a flaming cobra.

My muscles trembled, and I convulsed on the floor and moaned. "Bloody hell."

Fenrir's groan sent pleasant vibrations across my sex, which reached the hot furnace deep within my core, making me yearn for more of his touch.

"Once more," I said, trying not to sound pleading.

With a satisfied hum, Fenrir circled my nub with the flat of his tongue.

At that moment, I lost all sense of time, of space, of identity... I even lost sense of my wolf. A howling filled my ears, but I didn't know if it was coming from me, from him, or from the chorus of wolves that dwelled in Fenrir's lands. I was too far into the pleasure to care.

Fenrir parted my legs even further, picking up speed with his delicate strokes. "You taste so fucking good," he moaned, his hot breath fanning over my folds. "I want you so much."

I exhaled a shuddering breath, all notions of heat fading with the cool water, the intense pleasure, and Fenrir's eager tongue. He ran tight circles over my throbbing clit, which felt twice its normal size.

My toes curled, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Being with Fenrir shoved aside all memories of my one and only sexual experience with Beowulf and tossed it into the recycling bin. Right now, my entire existence coalesced into Fenrir, the love we shared, the pleasure he was giving me, and our happy future.

He kept me suspended on a tightrope of pleasure, lavishing me with languid licks that made my body shiver. The pleasure mounted, pushing away the intense heat until it reduced to the size of a pea.

I cried out, my legs twitching, my hips bucking, but Fenrir held me steady and quickened the movement of his tongue to rapid flicks that melted my insides to molten rapture.

"Please." I thrashed my head from side to side. "Don't stop."

"Never," he rumbled, his deep voice vibrating over my folds. "Not until you climax."

"I need-" A bolt of pleasure cut off my voice.

"Tell me," he growled.

My tongue darted to lick my dry lips, and I arched my back against the floor tiles. The water cascading on us cooled a little more, soothing my skin. "I need your fingers."

"Anything for you."