Page 92 of Buckle Up, Buttercup

Nerves fill me, and I look at him. “What if I don’t do this right, and our room looks stupid?”

He strokes my hair away from my face with an understanding smile. “My little overachiever, huh?”

“I’m serious, Alk!”

He pulls me against him. “If you carve me and I look like a gremlin with one giant eyeball, I’m still gonna love it because you put it there. Plus, when we have Petra do this, imagine what kind of talent she’s gonna have. She’s never even been to a school. It’s gonna get crazy in here.”

I shrug. “That’s true.” I’m mostly musing aloud as I lift the tool to the pale wood and dig in.

Ten minutes later, my carved Hadrian does look kinda silly, but his version of me isn’t a whole lot better. Still, the artwork brings tears to my eyes.

He and I stand with our hands interlocked, smiling at one another. Even in the carving, he dwarfs me. My brothers stand in a half circle around us, witnesses to that promise we made as children.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper when he puts the finishing touches on my braid.

“Yes, you are.” He tosses the tool onto the table and pulls me into his arms. “Pleasure first, but then we can make bracelets and eat the cloud cake I bought from Skylight. It’s chocolate and strawberry, your favorite.”

He makes short work of my clothes using his wings and tail. Spreading my thighs with his, he smiles as he places my body just where he wants it.

“I love manhandling you,” he says with a saucy smile. “Putting my little mate where I need her, where I want her.”

I brush my lips over his as his hands roam down my back to my ass. “And what do you want from me right now, big boy?”

He shudders at the nickname, squeezing my butt as his tail sneaks between my thighs, rubbing circles over my clit. “Your ass, Bluebell. I want your ass tonight. Then I want to wash every inch of you in our shower and do it all over again.”

Reaching behind us with one wing, he grabs a black cowboy hat off the wall by the bedroom door. Slotting it over his horns, he grins sexily at me as he pulls it onto his head. “How you feel about ridin’ this big cowboy’s dick, little human?”

Sitting up, I reach behind me and grip his cock, stroking it hard. “You don’t have any chaps, Hadrian?”

He laughs and drags big claws down the center of my chest. “Don’t need a stitch of clothing getting in my way.” He leans back, exposing the muscular column of his throat. “Bite me, baby. Give me those teeth.”

Snarling, I lean forward and sink my teeth into his skin, pulling hard at it. He bucks beneath me, groaning as he brings a hand to my hair to fist it tight. My big mate wriggles his tail, and a cap clicks open. Cold gel splatters against my ass as I move my bites to the lower part of his neck.

Hadrian’s spade slathers the lube over my pucker. Then he leans up into my space, curling his lips back to reveal beautiful twin fangs. “Ride me, cowgirl.”

Groaning, I sit upright and grab my ass cheeks, holding myself open. Hadrian rolls his hips carefully, teasing inside me. Once he’s partway in, I relax, opening for him as he splits me wide around that gorgeous cock. My body clings tight to his, dragging him deeper as sweat beads at the base of my back.

He licks up my neck and chest, swirling his tongue over my throat. “You need more, little mate? Tell me. Let me hear everything you want.”

I fall forward onto his huge chest. “I need you everywhere, mate. Inside, everywhere you can be.”

He reaches down and strokes my clit. “You telling me that pussy’s too empty, Bluebell? That having this big dick in your ass isn’t enough?”

His filthy words just serve to light me up, and I rock up and down his length, loving how he fills me.

“Yes,” I murmur. “Please, baby.”

He lets out a self-satisfied chuckle and brings his tail between my thighs, sliding the spade down and curling it into a tight cone. He slips it in and out of my pussy, slowly at first.

“Hadrian…” I gasp, throwing my head back as I focus on how he feels. I’m stuffed so full, I can barely think around him. And it’s always like this, overwhelming in the best of ways.

Mine.

All mine.

* * *

“How you feeling today, Bloob?” Oz dips a spoon into the bowl of potato salad I just made, lifting it to his mouth.