His hands smoothed along her flanks before the caress was gone. Moving over her, he pressed deeper inside her, the smooth, short strokes of his cock creating a passage for the heavy width of his flesh as the heated stretch of her tissue sent pleasure-pain striking at a deepening well of hunger.
Hard, muscled, his larger body stretched over hers for an instant as he pushed deeper, deeper, filling her, taking her an inch at a time. One burning, lightning-sharp sensation at a time, until he was buried fully inside her.
Seated to the hilt, the taut sac of his testicles pressing into her clit, Rule gave no concession, took no mercy in the erotic combat playing out between them now. The more she tried to sever that steadily evolving link he’d made with her soul, the more firmly entrenched it became.
“Think of this, Gypsy.” His lips seared the tender flesh at the point between neck and shoulder where he’d marked her the night before. “Remember this. If you ever. Ever attempt to steal from me the mate I’ll kill to protect. The mate I’ll betray all others to protect. Remember what the hell you’re stealing from both of us.”
Straightening behind her, she felt him reach for something, knew what he was doing, knew how he would imprint himself in her soul and still, she couldn’t stop him. His touch returned between the narrow cleft of her rear, his thumb, slick now with lubrication, pressed firmly against the tightly clenched entrance there. Rubbing, pressing, exciting nerve endings she’d never known could be so erotically sensitive, he began preparing her.
Without conscious volition, without any attempt to accept and with every intention of rejecting, still, she felt the tightly puckered entrance ease and allow the broad tip of his thumb to enter her slowly.
Gypsy was helpless against the cries that escaped her throat. Helpless against the smooth, stretching burn that parted the snug opening and began stretching it, caressing inside, fueling a hunger she shouldn’t know, shouldn’t feel.
His hips shifted, the wide head of his cock shifting and caressing inside her pussy with such resolute sensual destruction that she nearly orgasmed for him in that second.
That diabolical thumb pressed deeper inside her, pulled back, then slid in again. He took her in a way she couldn’t fight, neither mentally nor emotionally, and that emotional edge was going to destroy her.
Gypsy could feel it rising inside her, a wash of so many emotions—
“No. Please, Rule.” She jerked against him as she felt it coming, felt the breaks in the barriers she’d built over the years as the connection to him began to tighten, to strengthen.
Her head shook as she pressed it into the pillow, her fingers clenching tighter, a band of sensation beginning to tighten in her breast.
“I have you, Gypsy,” he crooned behind her, that wicked, wicked thumb easing back as she felt his cock stroking her internally in a way that had her breath catching in near ecstasy.
A second later, his fingers returned instead.
Parting her buttocks, she felt one ease inside her, stretching her again, filling her as more of the lubrication slicked his way.
He repeated the penetration. Pulling back completely, he returned seconds later, another layer of the slick gel coating her inner, untouched flesh as she panted beneath him. But this time, it wasn’t just one finger, but two. Parting them, stretching the entrance and internal muscles of her anus further, he blazed a path of complete surrender through her senses.
She should tell him no. That was all she had to do.
She could do it, she told herself desperately.
Instead, her hips lifted as his cock pulled free of her, a cry breaking from her throat that shocked her. A sound of such wild hunger, of such need that she couldn’t make sense of it.