Page 132 of Aryn

“Please,” I whisper again.

He pauses despite my begging, golden eyes roaming over my face. His hand is so gentle it almost hurts as he swipes a tear tracking down my cheek. “Is this too much?”

“It’s not enough,” I argue, hands grabbing at his skin as I try to pull us together. “I want more. I want you… I need you. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” he agrees softly.

His hair is mostly dried from the fire and wild between my fingers as I tug him closer. His brows pinch, but he lets me guide him. The head of my cock catches on his slick hole, and his eyes never leave mine as I thrust up and slip inside him. Another quiet moan leaves me as my eyes roll back, the feeling of sliding into that perfect heat making my whole body melt.

“Mine,” I murmur as he meets me for another aggressive kiss. “Always mine.”

“Always yours,” he agrees.

He kisses me once more, then pushes his body upright and takes all of me in one smooth, deliberate motion. My hands fly to his hips as he bottoms out, torn between holding him there forever and begging him to move. The way his body welcomes me, the way his walls flutter and clench, the way the tendrils on his cock brush against my stomach—it’s too much. It’s like I was made to be inside him.

“Gods, you feel so good,” I gasp, fighting my urge to thrust.

Aryn lets out a soft, pleased sound and rolls his hips in slow, deep circles. He rides me with his hands braced on my chest, eyes locked on mine the entire time. His tail slips between my legs and slides inside me with ease. The tip flicks and curls, bombing me with pleasure so intense I want to close my eyes and feel it, but I force myself to stay focused.

I’m completely lost in him.

The dual sensation is overwhelming—his tight heat riding my cock while his tail fucks into me. Every roll of his hips and thrust of his tail sends waves of pleasure crashing through me, and I’m trembling, hands gripping his hips like a lifeline as he moves above me, beautiful and glowing in the firelight.

“I love you, Cato,” he whispers as he leans down, pressing his lips to mine.

Not kitten. Not rha khor.

Just Cato.

The man behind the fear.

The one with nothing to offer but himself, his heart, and his fumbling attempt at love.

My arms band around his middle, holding us together as I thrust up into him. “I love you,” I breathe against his lips, nails scratching down his back.

A muffled moan passes from his mouth to mine as he shudders and murmurs, “Harder.” I do it again, putting more pressure behind it, but Aryn growls and shakes his head. “I said harder.”

My nails dig in hard enough to leave marks, like I could tear his skin open and crawl inside. He gasps and falters, panting against my mouth. My fingers weave into his hair, twisting between the strands before I yank and use the grip to fuck him rougher.

Any worry about hurting him disappears at the sounds he makes.

He moans, loud and unrestrained, calling my name as he begs for more, for harder. I scratch down his back and jerk on his hair, not holding anything back. Wet slaps of skin fill the room, so much slick leaking from him that it pools on my groin. It doesn’t take long before his body tenses and his cock jerks between us. Warm, wet bursts of his release spread across our stomachs as he rides me through it.

He sits tall, the contractions of his body still pulsing around me as he chases more. The muscles in his thighs tense as he fucks me faster and rougher. His cock doesn’t soften, slapping against my stomach into the mess he already made, and his tendrils are extended like they’re desperate to link us together.

“Come on, kitten,” he begs, voice rough. “Mark me like I marked you. Fill me up so they can smell you on me.”

Sweat trickles down my temples. My fingertips dig into his hips and thighs as I thrust up into him, gripping so hard I wonder if he’ll have bruises tomorrow. The thought makes my rhythm falter as I teeter right on the edge.

“I want you covered in marks,” I pant, squeezing harder. “Want the world to see you belong to me.”

Aryn throws his head back with a low growl that rolls into a gasp as he comes again, and the first squeeze of his body around me sends me over the edge right behind him.

I groan his name as I fill him up, unable to look away from the way the tendons in his neck strain and his abs twitch with the force of it. We both work through our release, slowing before we finally still. I stare up at him wrecked above me—sweaty hair, flushed cheeks, and hand-shaped bruises darkening his hips.

He pulls in a heavy breath as his tendrils soften, then collapses on top of me, uncaring about the mess coating my stomach. His lips find mine with lazy, sated kisses before Aryn slides onto the furs and curls into my chest. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close as the fire crackles softly beside us.

His fingers trail lazily over my skin, skimming the bite on my neck before tracing down to the fresh mark on my thigh. “We both got a little carried away with that, didn’t we? If you aren’t careful, you’re going to be covered in these.”