Page 23 of A Drop of Venom

“Yes, my shelshi,” he grated out. “You feel so good. Keep your eyes on me.”

He rocked in and out slowly, going a little deeper each time, stretching me more and more. I tore my gaze away from his just long enough to look down and see him disappearing inside me. My insides quivered and I felt myself clench and gush around him.

He groaned again. “Hazel…my light…”

Oh, Goddess…being filled, being stretched, being split open by my loving mate was pure pleasure and delight.

Suddenly, in the midst of my bliss, I felt a twinge of pain and winced.

“Darling.” He gathered me close and murmured into my hair. “It will be a sharp, quick pain if I fill you all at once, but I will go slowly instead if you prefer. It is your choice. Tell me what you want.”

“Fill me quickly,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Please. I need you to fill me.”

He didn’t hesitate; simply did as I asked and thrust his hips forward.

The pain was a flash, and then it was gone, swept away by the overwhelming sensation of being so full that it drove all the breath from my lungs and my legs kicked out.

He withdrew and thrust again, and I screamed, my back arching as I dug my nails into his arms.

The nubs on his crown…the silkiness of his scales…the roughness of the breeding rings…I felt everything.

I was lost on a sea of pleasure as he filled me again and again, going deeper each time, driving me toward a release different than my first because it was coming from somewhere new, somewhere he’d awakened, something inside me that answered his call.

And when he plunged so far that his hips nearly met mine and his crown touched something hidden deep inside me, I was lost again.

I wailed. I writhed. I bucked my hips, grinding against him mindlessly as pleasure took over everything and left nothing but my mate and I, together in this moment.

He slid himself free in the midst of my cries and thrust in with his lower sartra, and suddenly I was screaming, driven higher and further into bliss by sensations completely different than before. I might have been afraid to fly so high if it hadn’t been for Terolon’s voice calling to me, keeping me with him as I sobbed his name.

When he slid his upper sartra back in, this time I moaned and trembled. Each breeding ring had swollen until the stretch bordered on pain.

“Shelshan,” I gasped, my fingernails digging into his arms.

“My light.” He thrust into me, plunging deeper that I would have thought possible, and then moved his hips in circles instead of thrusts, grinding inside me and finding new pleasures. “My light, my mate, my everything…” he groaned.

His sartra was swelling, expanding, stretching me to my limit, and I was crying out and gasping for air. “Tero…Terolon…please…”

With a growl that reverberated deep in his chest, he bent his head and sank his fangs deep into my shoulder near my neck. I cried out in pain—and then my voice rose in a wail of ecstasy as a flood of heat poured into my body and carried me away.

Twin pulsings filled me at the same time. Sweet warmth pumped into me through his fangs in my shoulder in time with his heartbeat as his sartra swelled and throbbed and spilled blazing heat inside my sex. The sensations overlapped and crescendoed until I lost all sense of where I was and who I was in the bliss.

My mate was filling me completely, and it was perfect.

Terolon’s release wracked his entire body. His coils churned around me as he held me tightly to his chest. Some of his spend trickled from my clenching sex. His lower sartra spilled as well, and I was shocked by how hot it felt against my skin.

Carefully, he slid his fangs from my flesh and laved the bite with his cool tongue before rolling us until I lay within his coils on his heaving chest, my legs draped over his body. I quivered in his arms, my sex throbbing and squeezing as his sartra continued to pulse inside me.

“My love,” Terolon murmured, stroking my back. He was shivering a little too, but I didn’t think it was due to a chill. “My mate. Are you well? Have I hurt you?”

“No,” I said, my voice little more than a wisp. “I’m not hurting. Not at all. I feel very good.”

His sartra seemed to be releasing still. I was suddenly very thankful I’d been drinking my tea.

“Goddess,” he breathed raggedly, and cupped the back of my head where it lay on his chest above his hearts. “My shelshi.”

“Mmm.” I nestled against his chest. “My shelshan.”

I expected to feel discomfort or even pain stretched so intimately with him locked inside me, but instead I was warmed from the inside and secure. And when he drew his coils tighter, forming a nest with me in the center, I felt even better.