Page 120 of Blood & Claw

Ailsa’s breathing caught. Fangs pressed against his lower lip.

The beast. Lust had drawn it out.

Oh.

The sight should have frightened her. Instead, it made her sweat, made her belly quiver.

Panting, she dropped her gaze to where their bodies joined, to where he worked his way into her, testing and probing. Circling his hips one moment, and pulling back slightly the next, he let her stretch for him, accommodate him.

Ailsa whimpered as he slid the last couple of inches, bringing their bodies flush together.

Gods. It was a lot. She was stretched to the limit, splayed around the invasion of his hot, hard flesh. It didn’t hurt any longer, but it felt almost impossibly full.

“Darach,” she gasped. “I—”

Whatever she’d been about to say was cut off as he circled his hips. Pleasure clutched at her lower belly.

He repeated the action, and she moaned at the melting sensation that followed. Her body was now relaxing around him, responding to him.

He drew back then, withdrawing inch by inch, almost to the tip, before he slid back inside her. And the feel of him, filling her, touching her in places that made her writhe, made her cry out.

A flush rose to Darach’s cheekbones, those sharp canines protruding clearly as his lips parted once more. “Good?”

“Aye,” she groaned.

She was still so full that she ached, yet she writhed against him, craving more.

Suddenly, she was hungry.

Her nostrils flared, breathing in the smell of fresh sweat and the musky scent of their arousal. And something coppery and rich.

His blood.

Darach was quite a sight. Big body, slick with sweat as he moved inside her. Jaw clenched with restraint. His muscles flexed and trembled slightly.

Her gaze went to the pulse in his throat.

It jumped.

The pounding of his heart seemed suddenly louder than the crackle of the fire.

Every beat pushed fresh blood through him. She could almost track its path.

Neck.

Chest.

Groin—especially there, where they were joined.

Dizziness swept over her. Heat rushed through her limbs, and she curled her fingers against her palms.

Aye, that’s it. She could almost feel her nails cutting into the warm skin of his throat.

Her stomach convulsed—and when the vein in his neck fluttered again, her nails bit down into her own palms.

No!

She jerked back as if waking from a dream.