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He couldn’t maintain this, he knew he couldn’t.
“Look at me, Anya,” he snarled. “Open your eyes.”
If she didn’t open her eyes, he would never hold on to the control he needed. He had to see her. He had to remind himself he was a man, not an animal. He was loving his coya, his other half. His woman.
He had sworn if he ever had the chance to touch her again, he would hold on to his control. He would show her the pleasure, not the fear.
“Look at me, Anya,” he growled again. “See me, damn you. Hold on to me, and there will be no fear. I swear. No more fear.”
CHAPTER 15
Anya’s eyes opened, dazed, almost unseeing as she tried to focus on Del-Rey.
She was lost in the sensations whipping through her now. The feel of him, huge, hard, sinking into her as the heavy pulses of pre-cum continued to spurt inside her.
It would, until he was fully seated, she knew. And then the pleasure would only burn brighter. This was the part that had begun the nightmare the first time. This raging need, the way she clenched around the thick length of his cock, her hips moving frantically, desperate for more.
But this time, he was facing her. When he had taken her before, he had turned her to her stomach and lifted her hips, giving her nothing to hold on to. She’d had no sense of warmth, no sense of the man taking her as she did now.
“Anya.” His breathing was ragged, his broad chest moving with rough breaths as sweat eased down the side of his face. “I can’t—”
He shook his head, his eyes clenching before they opened once more and focused on hers.
His jaw clenched as his hips jerked, driving that last inch of his heavy erection in to the hilt. Anya felt her breath ease from her body for preci
ous seconds. She was filled, overfilled. She was burning and so desperate for more that she wondered if she would survive it this time.
Swallowing tightly, she fought to stare into his eyes. As black as midnight with the faintest hint of blue. As though the color hid within the darkness, a shadow of light to hold her to him.
“Ah hell.” One hand clenched her hip, the over buried in her hair as he braced his elbow at her shoulder. “I can’t.” He swallowed tightly. “I can’t hold back, baby.”
“Don’t hold back,” she panted. “Just hold on to me.” Her voice broke. “Hold on to me, Del-Rey. Don’t let me get lost.”
His eyes seemed to widen then his expression twisted as lust transformed his features and he began to move. Each heavy thrust pierced her deeper than just the clenching depths of her vagina. Sensation tore through her with excruciating pleasure/ pain. It stroked along once hidden nerve endings, reached to the depths of her and burned into her soul.
She held on to Del-Rey. She stared up at him, and felt the spinning whirlwind whipping inside her latch onto her. Hunger. An agony of need so deep, so desperate she couldn’t fight it any longer. Her hips lifted and her legs wrapped around his hips as she met each thrust, each stroke with a broken cry.
She was filled with midnight colors as she stared into his eyes and held on to him. Thick, dark blond lashes, so thick she would be jealous later. She felt the muscles of his biceps beneath her fingers as she dug into them, clenching at him as he drove into her, his hips thrusting heavily now, harder, faster as she felt the ever narrowing spirals of pleasure whipping through her.
“Yes.” His voice was part animal, part man. “Fuck me, Anya. Take me, baby. All of me. Take all of me.”
She knew what was coming. She felt her own orgasm building inside her, and she knew what it would do to her, what it would do to him.
In those years that her heart had settled on this Breed, she had never expected this. Scientists and techs used Breeds as sex toys, often having their favorites, calling them their pets, and this had never happened then. There were no animalistic results to those sexual adventures.
But Anya knew there would be now. She knew where the whirlwind would throw them, and she fought to hold back. Not yet. She didn’t want it to happen yet. She didn’t want the fear, she didn’t want that total loss of self that came with it.
“I have you.” His voice brushed over her senses. “Hold on to me, Anya. I have you. Always.”
He drove inside her, fast, furious, shafting inside her with a power and a pleasure that took that control, took that last edge of strength and tore it from her grasp.
She heard her own screams of release. Breathless, pleading, an agony of pleasure ripping through her as she felt the first convulsive eruption tear over her senses.
Then, she felt his release. She felt the swelling, the burning stretch of muscle and tissue, the violent throb of heavy veins pounding into nerve endings that screamed from the additional intensity. She heard his shout, then a sound that was part snarl, part howl as his head lowered and his teeth pierced her shoulder.
It wasn’t pain. It was too intense to be pleasure.
Anya was locked in a world of sensation so brutal she screamed out his name as she felt the first furious blast of semen erupting into her already too sensitive sex, and the additional width, locking him into the clenching muscles of her pussy, set off a harder, stronger eruption that seemed to center in her womb.
