The man, she realized, had taken her virginity in missionary, so as to lessen the pain of her breaching. But the wolf inside of him would settle for nothing less than a full mounting. All softness disappeared from him then as he fell over her back, his thick erection sliding in and out of her as he grunted above her.
Whatever shred of humanity had allowed him to take her gently before was gone now, and for Chloe, who couldn’t move beneath his heavy body, it felt like being claimed by some sort of flesh-covered beast.
Their sex had taken such an intense turn, she should have been scared out of her mind, but something primal in her responded to this position. She could feel the mating knot now at the base of his penis, hard and unforgiving, and pressed against her G-spot in ways that made it impossible to regret what she was doing. She actually felt the inside of her vagina swell around his wolf knot, keeping him locked in place as he rutted her.
And then came the thing she hadn’t quite known she’d been waiting for…her eyes rolled and her breath caught in her throat as wave after wave of the most intense pleasure she had ever known slammed into her. Then she was breathing again, but he was still moving into her, one large calloused hand covering her breast as his thrusts became faster and faster. And to her astonishment another orgasm began to overtake her.
White noise filled her head and in the distance, she could hear somebody screaming. Only when the orgasm began to fade away did she realize it was her.
Her arms collapsed underneath her and she fell to her elbows, unable to hold herself up anymore. Everything on her body felt like quivering jelly, but despite this, her pussy kept clenching around his cock, milking it with hungry wantonness, her wolf not caring who this Viking was or what promises she had made to another.
And when she felt the hot stream of cum begin to release inside of her, another orgasm began to overtake her, this one ripping through every part of her body as his seed flooded into her hot and strong, spilling into her womb and sending her human over the edge. She screamed and cried, babbling nonsensical words until finally the vise of pleasure began to ebb away, and there was nothing left but her and the Viking on the matted floor of the cage.
His face was now pressed into the back of her neck and he was making that soothing sound again. “Shhh,” he said. “It is done. We are mated.”
She trembled underneath him, but she felt her heartbeat once again slowing down as she came back from whatever wild place the mating had sent her. “That was so…” She didn’t have the words.
“Yea, for me, as well.” With more gentleness than she would think a man his size could possess, he arranged their bodies, so they were lying on their sides, with him behind her, still embedded inside her swollen folds.
Every wolf knew what happened on heat night, that it was called such because after the mating, the wolf and his mate, stayed physically locked in this most intimate embrace “into the night” or thirty to sixty minutes, if you were being completely technical. But still, it was slightly embarrassing to feel herself involuntarily clenching around his thick unit, refusing to let it go until it had milked every drop of cum from him.
As if reading her thoughts, he rested his hand over her still-swollen breasts. “There is no need to feel embarrassment. You availed yourself well this night, and I am well-pleased.”
Something prickled inside of her. “Your pleasure wasn’t my main point of concern.”
“Yet, have you achieved it. You should be happy to have so pleased your mate.” He chuckled and thrust into her in a low-grade, teasing way. Nonetheless it sent a lovely wave of afterglow through her, which indeed, made her forget her embarrassment about holding a man she barely knew in the vise grip of her vagina.
“We will sleep now. We mayhap have many days of mating ahead of us before we are able to make travel back to the gate,” he told her, with a squeeze of her breast. “By Fenrir, even though I am a king, I find it hard to believe such beauty belongs to me. My fellow wolves will envy me this treasure.”
She had every intention of letting him know she still had no intention of traveling back in time with him and would never meet his fellow wolves because she would be staying in her own time, thank you very much. But sleep was already dragging her down, so hard she could barely form thoughts, much less words.
In fact, she didn’t even notice she was talking to him, even though she hadn’t moved her mouth, or that she could now understand every word he said, until right before the blackness enveloped her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHLOE woke up feeling like she had been run over by a school bus. But she also woke up alone. She sat up on the cage’s matted floor and looked around. She was definitely alone. And the smell of her own heat was so thick in the air, it obscured anything else that might have been there before.
Maybe, she thought, it had all been a dream. Maybe she had gone into heat and gone crazy with arousal, conjuring up the Viking who was in actuality still locked in the clinic’s cage. But when she got to her feet she had plenty evidence of what had happened in the throbbing raw and used feeling between her legs.
And if that wasn’t enough to tip her off that last night had really happened, her wolf ears picked up the sound of someone moving around upstairs. With a sigh, she walked over to the pajamas she’d laid out the night before. She was momentarily frozen in place by guilt however, when she saw that this particular set was covered in white horses with orange manes. The Broncos pajamas had been a Christmas gift from Rafe’s father the year before, and she’d worn them every morning following a full moon since.
Where was Rafe now? It was only a matter time before he found out…
Chloe pushed those thoughts out of her head and pulled on the pajamas. She couldn’t think about that now. She was starving, her body felt like one huge sexualized nerve ending, and she had a Viking stomping around her house. She’d deal with the consequences of betraying her fiancé later. Right now she needed food.
She found the Viking standing stark naked in the kitchen, turning the knob on her stove back and forth, his face crinkled in confusion as the flames switched on and off.
As unhappy about this situation as she was, for a few seconds she became mesmerized by the sight of his rock-hard body, which didn’t look like it was carrying even an ounce of extra flesh on it.
But then she cleared her mind with a shake of her head and asked him telepathically, “What are you doing?”
“This flame doth appear with the turn of a dial. ‘Tis magic?” he asked, continuing to turn the flame on and off.