Chapter 16 | Cora

Chapter 16

Cora

O n their wedding night, Cillian had taken his time with her, coaxing her arousal like a small flame from a pile of kindling. She’d needed that from him, though she wouldn’t have known how to ask. Thankfully, he’d seemed to know without having to be told and had tempted and teased her until that tiny flame became an inferno. It had been a slow process, one full of hesitation on her part as she fought her desires. When she’d finally surrendered, it had felt like a raging river breaking through a dam. A stronger force had overpowered her, and she had been helpless against the whirling, surging chaos he had created in her body.

This was nothing like her wedding night. There were no soft kisses or teasing touches. There were no tender words to pull her out of her fear. From the moment she’d taken her first step away from him, she’d known how the night would end. Desire had throbbed, warm and thick, under her skin at the thought of what was to come. Her blood had raced through her veins as she moved through the trees, heated by the chase. By the time he’d caught her, she’d been ready to tackle him to the ground herself. Now, she was glad that she hadn’t. The anticipation built with every word and heated glance, making the wait as sweet as it was painful.

Cillian’s kiss was almost frenzied when he bent his head to hers. He didn't use gentle nips or slow teasing with his tongue like before. She answered his rough groans and wandering hands with her own. She cupped his cheeks, fingers buried in his beard so that he couldn’t pull away. He bit at her lower lip, drawing it between his teeth. The initial discomfort of his brief bite quickly changed into a hot and urgent feeling between her legs.

“You fancy this dress?” he asked between kisses.

“What?” she replied breathlessly, sure she’d heard him wrong. “What do you mean?”

He tugged the laces in an oddly alluring way. “This dress, lass. Is it a favorite?”

“I—I don’t know. Yes? I like it well enough. Why are we talking about my dress?”

He growled, the sound similar to what he’d done as a wolf. “You’d best remove it fast, then. Make me wait much longer, and I might just rip it off. I can smell how wet you are—how much you loved the hunt. Did you know that? Did you know that every time you think an especially pleasant thought about me, I can smell it?”

Cora shook her head, moaning when he cupped a breast and squeezed it through her dress. His talk of ripping up her clothing shouldn’t be arousing. It was wasteful—and possibly painful—but in her mind’s eye, she could see it all. The way he’d take hold of the dress and rip it from top to bottom. The way her breasts would spill out, and her thighs would quiver in anticipation.

There was only one thing keeping her from allowing him to make good on his threat. While Cillian could frolic back to camp as a wolf, she would be forced to run naked through the woods like a goblin.

“Fine, fine. Have some patience, you beast.” Her fingers worked the ties and laces as quickly as possible, slowed only by the way he brushed his nose against her ear.

Cillian laughed darkly, his hot breath against her face sending shivers up her spine. “I am a beast, wife. I hunted you as a beast and caught you. Do you expect patience when I can practically taste how eager you are?”

Cora swallowed around a sudden lump in her throat; her fingers unable to hold their grip on the ties of her kirtle. He’d mentioned ‘tasting’ her before. On their wedding night, he’d said he’d toss her legs over his shoulders and feast on her. Cora had replayed those words in her mind more times than she could count. Without fail, the images they created had her pressing her thighs together for relief. Now she moaned when the image shifted. Suddenly, the Cillian in her mind stared up at her from between her legs, his teeth long and sharp and his eyes the bright, glowing blue of his wolf.

“Oooh, my darling wife liked that... is it the beast you want, Mo ghrá , or my mouth?”

How was she meant to answer that? It must be a sin to even admit she’d thought of either of those things, let alone both of them together. “I—I want—”

“Tell me, Cora,” he whispered, his lips pressed against her ear, his hands busy with the last ties at her chest. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything, lass. Everything I have is yours.”

He sounded as though he was the one losing control. He undid the last lace and all but tore the thick kirtle away, tossing it in a heap on the ground. In a matter of moments, the rest of her clothing was gone as well.

She’d been naked on their wedding night, but it had felt different now. She’d been so afraid and so determined not to let him see it. Her nakedness had been one drop in her bucket of concerns that night, and it seemed silly to worry about it now.

Now, she wondered. The pale moonlight gave his skin an almost otherworldly glow, and she imagined for a moment what it might be like if she were luchthonn as he was. Would she glow too? Would he prefer it if she did? Her hands trembled where she’d laid them on his chest, and she gasped when he took them into his own and laced their fingers together. The frantic energy in his eyes cooled to something almost reverential.

“I’ve never been much for worship, Cora. I’ll honor the moon as much as the next wolf, but it’s never guided my life. But tonight, I must believe that our lady is real because only a goddess could have blessed me with the woman before me.”

He kissed her forehead, her nose, then her lips. “You are the most beautiful woman in all the world, Mo ghrá . Ask, and I will worship at your altar until dawn.”

When they’d faced her father, Cillian had called her his ‘swooning bride.’ She’d wanted to beat him with his own sword at the time for insinuating any man, let alone him, could make her swoon. It shouldn’t have been possible to be so wrong about a man, yet here she lay, swooning.

Still, it hadn’t been his softness that had set her body on fire tonight. It hadn’t been beautiful words and feelings that swelled in her heart, begging her to give them voice.

It had been a beast.

A chase.

A hunt.

And God help her, but she wanted that again. She wanted everything he’d promised. Everything he’d teased and tormented her with. There would be time for sweet nothings in the morning, but for now, she wanted her beast, her wolf, back.

Rather than speak, she surged forward, hoping to bruise his lips with her kiss just as he had hers. She swallowed his surprised groan with a triumphant smile. He’d told her to ask for what she wanted, but she couldn’t. It was too much to put it all to words—too hard to break away from him long enough to voice it. So, she showed him instead. She took one of his large hands in hers, pressing it to her breast. He squeezed the soft flesh, then surprised her with a pinch on her aching nipple.

She took the other and slipped it between her legs, showing him how she wanted to be touched. When he moved of his own accord, she moaned, bucking against his hand. She shuddered at the sharp points of pleasure spreading like ripples in a pond.

“Fuck, lass—Cora—that’s it, girl, ride my hand,” he ordered between kisses. He slipped two fingers inside her without warning, and Cora squealed at the unexpected invasion. It didn’t hurt the way it had the first time, and the uncomfortable stretch only lasted for a moment before it melted into pleasure.

Part of her considered arguing that what he was doing felt nothing like riding. A larger, more sensible part elected to do as she was told. She ground against his hand, forcing his fingers deeper inside. The pressure was too much and not enough at the same time. The meat of his palm brushed the small bud of flesh above her entrance every time she pressed against him, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

Suddenly, she was empty again, the fullness of his fingers gone right when she needed it most. Betrayal warred with need in her heart, but before she could protest, her beast was on his knees, shoving her legs apart. “Told you I’d feast on this cunt,” he said, his tone rough and animalistic. “Best brace yourself.”

She started to ask what he meant, but she lost her words in the high, needy cry he tore from her lips with the first rough swipe of his tongue. It was everything she’d imagined—it was more. He devoured her, just as he’d promised, and she was sure no prey had ever enjoyed their death so much.

Her climax came quickly as she writhed against him, with fingers buried in his hair and one leg slung over his shoulder. How could it not? His tongue, his lips, his teeth—everything he did took her to new and sharper heights until there was simply nowhere else to go but over the edge and into the abyss. She might have called his name—she wasn’t sure. Her mouth wasn’t in her control just then; she might have simply cried and moaned like a dog in heat. She thought he might like it if she did.

Soon, the haze of pleasure cleared. His touches, which had been everything she needed only moments before, became too much for her sensitive flesh. Cillian pulled away, his lips and beard wet with her arousal, and Cora ran her fingers through his long hair, smoothing the errant strands she’d used as an anchor. He smirked up at her, squeezing her arse in his hands and nipping playfully at her hip. “Enjoyed that, did you? I knew you would.”

Cora pretended to consider for a moment before shrugging dismissively. “It’ll do, I suppose. If that’s really the best you can do.”

Cillian’s grin turned sharp and predatory. He slid her leg off of his shoulder and rose to his feet, towering over her. “Oh, it’ll do, will it? Does my cheeky wife think she could do better?”

He gripped his cock, sliding his hand up the shaft. A thick drop of liquid gathered at the tip, and Cora had the unexpected desire to taste it. She knew it was something people did, of course. Until now, she’d always found the idea of sticking a man’s cock in her mouth to be humiliating—or, at the very least, unsanitary. She wondered if Cillian had some sort of animal magnetism that was to blame for her sudden interest.

Cora rose on her knees and covered his hand with hers. With no actual idea of where to start except for the obvious, she opened her mouth and slid his cock between her lips.

Cillian hissed through his teeth. “ Fuck me , lass! No fear at all in you, is there?”

Oh, there was plenty of fear. Fear that she’d do it wrong, somehow. That she’d accidentally bite him. Fear that she wouldn’t be able to bring him pleasure like he’d brought her. But if he thought her fearless? Bold? Who was she to argue?

Not that she could with a mouth full of cock.

She bobbed her head, taking a little more of him in her mouth each time. She ran her tongue along the underside of the shaft, licking along a large vein as she drew back. Cillian shuddered, twining his fingers into her hair. The pressure on her scalp tingled pleasantly, and she moaned softly around him.

Cillian gripped her tighter, cupping her jaw with one hand. “That’s it, love,” he urged. “Take as much as you can. Christ, the look of you! Do you know how often I’ve dreamed of this?”

She preened at his words, drawing more of him in until she felt the tip of his cock at the back of her throat. It was uncomfortable, and she knew her jaw would ache before long. But the sound of her husband, the great Wolf King himself, praising her mouth and the pleasure she gave him made her feel powerful.

Applying the same principles he’d used on her, Cora used everything available to her to bring him closer to his own climax. Her hand slid up and down the thick shaft as she licked and sucked the sensitive head. She almost pulled back when she accidentally scraped the side with her teeth, her eagerness making her sloppy. Cillian didn’t seem bothered; he only growled, urging her to take him deeper.

She tried everything she could think of. Every angle, every pressure, and every motion she could imagine. He seemed to love it all, tightening his grip on her hair whenever she did something he liked especially well.

Cillian’s breathing grew ragged. His stream of encouragement faded into deep moans and rough growls. Pride warmed her heart as she realized how close he was, how close she’d brought him. She hadn’t expected to be aroused by this act. Hadn’t at all expected how hot and wet she would feel just by chasing his pleasure. She ached for friction—for something to fill the emptiness inside.

Suddenly, he pulled away, dropped to his knees, and kissed her so hard it took her breath away. “You’re a wonder, Mo ghrá ,” he murmured against her lips. “A bloody witch, I swear it, but a wonder.”

Cora returned his kiss, desperate to chase the heat surging through her veins to its end. “Then why’d you stop me? Let me—”

He kissed her once more, biting sharply at her lip before flipping her onto her hands and knees. “Can’t stop now,” he warned. “‘M gonna take you on the ground like a bloody beast because that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You were so hot as you ran, so wet that I could have followed you to the ends of the fucking earth with only that scent.”

She barely had time to register his hands at her hips before he was inside her, hot and thick and everything she’d needed. She dug her fingers into the earth below, desperate for some anchor in the chaos. Her knees chafed against the ground, but the growing pleasure easily overpowered the minor discomfort. He gripped her hips, fingers digging into her as he took her again and again. “This is what you wanted,” he repeated, his voice little more than a snarl. “Tell me, wife. Tell me you thought about me fucking you into the ground as you ran from me. Tell me you wanted the beast tonight.”

“I did!” she cried. “I wanted it! Please, Cillian, I’m so—I want to—” Her words, hurried and slurred, faded away as he thrust harder, faster, until she thought she might faint or burst into flames.

After all the teasing and anticipation, her broken cry when she climaxed was as much relief as it was pleasure. She shuddered through the waves as they crashed through her, every thrust a peak until they ebbed and passed. Through the haze of her own climax, she heard Cillian’s shout as he pressed himself close, muscles twitching as he spent himself inside of her.

Cillian slumped against her, rolling to the side at the last moment before he crushed her. They curled into each other in the soft summer grass. Sweat dripped down her face, blessedly cool against her overheated skin. Their heavy breaths blended with the other night forest sounds, the hoot of an owl, and the chirp of crickets.

It was utterly peaceful, and Cora thought that if she never had to leave this place, this moment, she’d be happy for the rest of her life.