Carnage Island (Reject Island)(33)

Only then do I notice my nails in his shoulder.

“S-sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t want…”I trail off.

“You don’t want what?”

“What happened to my mom,” I finish, my eyes falling.

He lays me on the bed, his fingers finding my chin as he pulls my gaze back up to his. “What happened to your mom, little one?” Something about his voice soothes me, almost like a drug lulling me into sleep.

Only it’s more than that.

It’s heavier.

It’s that rumble in his chest, I think dreamily. I really like that sound.

“Clove,” he says, his tone softer now. “What happened to your mom?”

I stare at him, temporarily grounded once more. “They raped her.” My voice is barely audible. “They… they killed her.” My eyelids fall, then flare open again as I grab his shoulders. I haven’t been able to speak all week. Someone has to know! “I didn’t kill her, Tieran. I swear I didn’t kill her.”

Tears cloud my vision. It feels so good to finally say that.

But it’s quickly followed by anger.

Anger that so many people refused to give me a chance to speak.

“They called me feral,” I continue, my vision blurring in a sea of red. “They never gave me a chance to defend myself. Because I couldn’t shift. I—”

A sharp spasm in my belly cuts off my thoughts, dragging me under that hazy torment once more.

Tieran’s finger finds my tongue, but the taste of his essence isn’t enough anymore. It’s no longer the antidote I require. It’s… it’s…

“Fire,” I breathe, writhing on the bed and curling into a ball of exquisite need.

Tieran’s palms land on my hips, his body bigger than mine and forcing me to unfurl on the mattress beneath him.

I start to cry, terrified of what’s about to happen, yet craving it at the same time. I’m not sure if I’m sad or elated.

I can’t decide.

I can’t fucking think.

Pressure meets my core, the sensation of it shooting spikes through my veins.

I scream.

Then I cry out as the pressure increases, swirling, licking, drawing out pure bliss from between my thighs.

My fingers find Tieran’s hair as I urge him on, riding his face in a furious display of need underlined in a hint of insanity.

This isn’t me.

It’s my wolf.

No, it’s us.

Oh, fuck it.

I don’t care. I just want to feel.

And ohhh, he’s helping me feel a thousand things at once.

His fingers enter my slick channel, curling up to find a spot deep within that shoots me to the stars as his tongue continues to drive me mad.

I’m a mess of sensation and moans. I’m demanding more. I’m begging for him to fuck me. I’m losing my damn mind and I just do not care.

The first wave of pleasure hits me unexpectedly, sending me soaring to the moon and back in the blink of an eye.

It’s immediately followed by a second and a third thunderous climax, the pleasure all foreign and new to my spirit.

I’ve dabbled a little on my own.

But never with another.

It’s forbidden to play with a male who isn’t my mate.

Which I suppose makes Tieran my mate now. Does that mean he’ll slaughter me when he’s done? I wonder idly, a hint of fear caressing my mind. But it’s there and gone in a second as he sends me tumbling to oblivion for a fourth time.

Or maybe it’s all the same orgasm.

I’m losing track of time and space.

All I know is that I crave his heat. I need him to calm my beating heart. I need his essence. “Tieran,” I breathe.

“I know,” he says, crawling over me again. “I know, Clove.”

Does he, though? Does he realize how badly I burn? How much this hurts?

His cock slides through my dampness, drawing another of those foreign sounds from my throat. I sound like I’m dying. Fuck, I feel like I’m dying.

Tieran’s thick head nudges my entrance, drawing me back just long enough to inspire a deep-seated worry inside.

Only to scream in the next instance as he thrusts inside.

The bastard just split me wide open.

Speared me with his cock!

Is this how his previous mate died? Is this how he destroyed her?

Tears flood my vision, but his lips are suddenly on mine, his purr a rumble in his chest that has my wolf sighing inside.

It’s so confusing.

It’s… it’s…

I start to pant.

Because he’s… he’s moving.

And now.

Oh, moons.

It’s a slow shift of his hips that should shoot agony through my limbs, but all I feel is heat. Blissful, amazing, heat.

I arch into him, taking him impossibly deeper.

It’s not enough.

I want more.

I want his power.

I want the Alpha to fuck me.

But he’s kissing me, his tongue a benediction against mine, his body a brand searing my very being. I bite his tongue, demanding his focus. “More,” I growl.

He chuckles. “You’ll get what I give you, little one.”

That is not good enough.

And I tell him that with my nails, dragging them down his back as I pump my hips up to meet his.