I dampened again.
I felt his urgency.
His kisses on my cheek intensified.
He leapt at me and began rubbing my small hole, poking his finger inside.
“It’s not gonna hurt. Relax.”
The bed dipped again, and Mayhem stretched over me. I craned my neck to see what he was doing. The collar I stole from him rested on the nightstand. A glance at the floor, and I realized he’d gone through the contents of my wristlet and taken out the collar while I’d slept. Oh boy, I was in trouble. I swallowed. “Don’t hurt me.”
Yellow eyes locked with my gray ones. “But I would never…” He clamped his mouth shut with such force, his teeth clattered and his fangs descended. “Don’t be afraid. I haven’t used you yet, and I want to.”
He slipped the collar around my neck and snapped it closed. “You are my pair,” he said.
What?
A clunk sounded, and I looked down. His kilt and his knife were on the floor. Oh boy. “Close your eyes and let it be,” he whispered at my ear. “Don’t fight me on this, or you’re gonna find me in your ass. You make me crazy.” He bit my ear, then kissed it better. “I’m gonna fuck you like I bought you and treat you like I didn’t. Say yes, Master.”
“Okay.”
His warm front pressed on my back, and his whole body shuddered. “You drive me insane,” he told me. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hm. When you run from me, it makes me maniacal. Don’t run, sweet mouse, don’t run. It makes my blood boil. Put some lube on your little hole.”
Mayhem was on a roll. There was no stopping him. “Where, where is the lube?”
He squeezed the clear liquid on my palm, and I snuck my hand between our bodies. I lubed my asshole as if it would be the last thing I did. Not a drop was left on my hand. I buried my face in the pillow.
His finger poked me there again, no doubt trying to stretch it.
I touched myself in the front and felt his fist wrap around my hair. I lifted my head as he put his cock where his finger was.
He slipped inside my pussy instead.
Or he tried to.
He was big, and the hole was small, and Mayhem paused with a groan, only the tip of him inside me. A palm snuck under my belly, and he lifted my ass up, then pulled my hair some more. He found my clit with his other hand and rubbed it while sliding slowly inside and whispering things in my ear.
He told me I felt tight around him.
He told me how long he’d waited.
He told me I owned him.
Over and over and over again.
With his cock inside me, with my hair pulled behind me and with Mayhem completely coming undone, I closed my eyes and chased my pleasure.
He promised to take care of me the way he took care of his people who adored him. When Mayhem flipped me over, took both my wrists into one of his hands, and stretched them above my head, I saw the heat in his pale eyes, a beast with canines as big as my finger. He snuck his nose into the crook of my neck and nipped and tasted and licked and told me my pussy fit like a glove.
I was wrong to think he’d plunder. Mayhem didn’t plunder. He glided on top of me, his hand making its way down so his finger could push into my ass and stretch the hole he swore he’d fuck next. He moved with a rhythm, his hips pistoning, working his honed body over mine.
Maybe he did own me.
He certainly owned this moment.
Under him, I felt helpless and unafraid.
I lifted my bottom, seeking more.
And he hit that place inside.
I told him this felt good, and I asked him if he would do it harder. My cheeks burned and my clit swelled as he made me scream his name as we came.
I didn’t forget, come morning, I’d have to make him something to eat.
Mayhem
Ring, ring, ring.
The sound awoke me from dead sleep. I stretched like a cat, couldn’t remember the last time I’d rested like this. The first thing I inhaled was the smell of my mate. I inhaled again and filled my lungs with her. My eyes rolled in the back of my head and my dick jumped to attention. I wanted to fuck her again, fill her womb with my babies. “Mouse?” I called out.
She poked her head out of the bathroom. “I’m getting dressed.”
Modesty. A strange concept. I’d seen her naked. I’d fucked her sweet pussy. And yet she hid in the bathroom to put on clothes. My feet hit the carpet. I knocked on the bathroom door before walking inside to take a piss. I fisted my dick and yawned. “Sleep good?” I asked.
“I’m still here.” She pointed at my dick.
“I know. I can see you.”
I looked down at the bowl so that I wouldn’t miss it. At home, I pissed behind my tent, on trees, or wherever I felt like pissing. In our home, we had toilets, so I used these things.