21. Mari

Chapter twenty-one

Mari

S un. Despite Soren's room being on the back end of the house, the sun warms his window. I hold my hand out, letting the light catch on my skin. This can't be real.

He is still asleep behind me—his soft, rhythmic breaths warming the back of my head. I'm pinned between him and the wall. It was an excellent position for feeling safe—a trash position for sneaking out undetected.

I escape my little cocoon, padding softly to the door and downstairs.

Light pours through the windows, warming the already colorful space. It seems like years since I've seen the sun. I sit in the chair he usually crochets or reads in, looking out over the green fields and rocky cliffs in the distance. I had forgotten how green this place is, how electric it feels to be here, and how other it is.

I could have easily been back in Portland in the long expanse of gray and rain. But now, looking over the neon colors of the trees and wild grasses, everything looks lit from within. I'm most certainly anywhere but Earth.

"Hey, everything okay?" a low voice rasps in my direction.

I turn to find Soren moving slowly down the stairs, his voice hoarse with sleep and his long chestnut hair tousled.

"It's great!" I say, gesturing to the space now practically glowing with golden light.

He moves next to me, glancing out the same window. The metal cuffs that adorn his long hair tap on the window frame. There is a melancholy in his eyes that I've not noticed before. Loss, maybe? The slight furrow to his brow has me wondering if he's seeing something I'm not.

"It won't last long," he says, peering at clouds in the distance.

I huff and get up from my chair.

"Really, dude, the first time I wake up in a good mood, you insist on ruining it for me."

"I'm just trying to be realistic. This rain isn't over."

"Holy shit, why couldn't you just let me enjoy this for a second?" I say, throwing my arms up in frustration.

There is something he's not saying, something caught in the bob of his throat. Something caught in that frantic stare that can't decide if it wants to focus on me or the light pouring into the room. The light that catches on his skin, etched with patterns I can't read—the light that dances off the swell of his muscles and the earthen tone in his eyes .

"You know what?" I say, stepping closer and setting my features in a scowl. "You're right. I'll be sure not to enjoy anything while I'm here. It'll make leaving much easier."

His eyes go wide, dilating slightly. I move away and back into the kitchen, bumping against the soapstone countertop.

"Why do you do this?" he says, prowling in my direction, sunlight playing off his skin. "Why do you pull away every morning? What is it about the day that you fear so?"

"It doesn't look like I'm the one who's acting scared now," I snap as he looms closer.

"Do you really want to know what I truly fear, Mariana?" he says, his eyes desperately seeking an answer before he gives the words.

I want to back away further, but the soapstone digging into my palms and backside has me at a standstill.

"Please enlighten me." I lower my head slightly in a mock bow, trying to throw more insult to injury. He growls low, approaching me so closely that my neck strains to look up at him.

"I've lived in fear every day since I've met you." He gulps, looking for the first time like he's not self-assured. "Fear that one day that sun will crest over the mountains with no clouds behind it, and you'll be gone." He cups my head in both hands, and I let him. His soft brown eyes memorize every inch of skin as they rake over me. "I fear I will have learned nothing about you. And you will forever remain this wonderful, wild thing that came into my life and disappeared just as quickly. I fear you will forget me the moment you leave and that these intense feelings I have for you—have had for you since we met will live with me and me alone."

He fixes his gaze on me, but there is a softness, a vulnerability that cracks something deep inside me. I open my mouth to speak, but his lips are there before the words get out.

He crashes his mouth onto mine, projecting all the emotion that spilled from his lips mere seconds ago into this kiss. This all-consuming kiss.

Our mouths move in perfect sync, nipping and sucking to punctuate our needs. His thick hands go to my ass and pick me up, setting me softly back down on the countertop.

My legs spread, allowing his body to press into me. The significance of that bulge barely covered by his flimsy night clothes is a force. A force that rubs against my parted thighs, and I moan at the pleasure of it.

I can't control the way my hips undulate at the sweet friction. I'm giving in.

I've never felt this lusty, this wanton. Sex, to me, was always something that just had to happen after you dated someone long enough.

I've never cried out for it with every nerve in my body as I do now. I roll my hips again, and he pulls back from the kiss, placing his forehead on mine.

"If you do that again, I won't be able to control myself." A lie. If I wanted him to stop now, he would. But the desperation in his voice is a tonic I didn't know I needed.

I reach up, biting the lobe of his ear. "Do your worst," I whisper, and he growls at me like a beast, sliding his hands up my shirt to my breasts. He groans when his fingers find my nipples already peaked and ready for him. My shirt flips up, exposing my skin to the crisp morning air.

"These are so perfect." His admiring gaze sweeps over my bared flesh, and he gives me a satisfied look before leaning down and sucking one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tawny tip. I look down at the sight of this mammoth man-beast palming, kissing, and sucking at my skin like I'm his last meal.

The tricky ogre has the drawstring at my waistband untied and falling off my hips before I even notice one of his hands has moved.

His kisses move down the plane of my stomach. All the while, his hand expertly runs down the length of my legs, removing my pants entirely. His calloused fingers trail lines up and down my legs, running over the heated skin on my bare thigh.My body quivers at the slight touch and the sight of the godlike creature inspecting every inch of me as if I were precious.

"Are you going to be wet for me?"

I bite my bottom lip and nod at him. He smirks up at me before running a finger through my slick core. I buck my hips at the gentle intrusion.

"You are so responsive and so fucking wet," he says before grazing that cursed finger over my clit, causing me to shiver. That same finger dips into my core, and he groans again. "Fuck, you're tight; I have to get you good and wet before you take me." His finger pumps in and out of me in slow, agonizing strokes. The girth of his finger alone has me questioning if I can, in fact, take the real thing.

He pulls his hand from me and drops to his knees. He kisses my calf, then my knee, then the insides of both my thighs. I suck in a breath at just how erotic the moment is. Something I would never imagine myself doing.

He smiles up at me. "Is this how you like me, My Warrior? On my knees before you?" He punctuates his words with another kiss on my sensitive skin. Running his sharp canines along my bare thighs before pulling me towards the edge of the counter and resting my legs on his shoulders.

His tongue takes an exploratory lick, and one of my hands immediately tangles in his hair—my instinctual need to grab onto something of substance before I shatter into a thousand pieces.

"I have dreamed about how good you would taste," he says before sucking the finger that was just inside of me into his mouth, licking it clean. "But nothing could have prepared me for this." His face disappears between my parted legs. But now, there is no more soft exploration. He is feasting on me.

Every inch of my pussy is at the mercy of his tongue and lips. All the while, his massive hands clasp my legs in a vice grip.

I'm rocking with the motion of his mouth, my heart beating a frantic rhythm in my ears. He reaches up and slides his finger back inside of me, causing a new rush of sensation.

His tongue swirls over my clit in light, teasing circles before he sucks it between his lips.

"Oh fuck, Soren, that's so good."

"Oh, she speaks; I love how my name sounds coming from that bratty mouth," he says, his hot breath still dancing over my swollen sex. "Scream it for me when I make you come on my tongue."

His mouth retakes me, swirling and sucking in ways I didn't know were possible. Creating sensations I've never experienced.

I clasp his hair tighter and grind into him, feeling my release build. He must sense it, too, because he holds me impossibly close, maintaining the pressure of his tongue on my clit as his fingers curl within me.

"Soren, I'm going to come; keep doing that. I'm going to come."

He takes my clit and sucks it in his lips once more, and I erupt. Stars dance in my vision, and I scream his name despite myself. I let the bliss of my orgasm rip through me like an electrical storm. The sensation is so intense my body involuntarily jerks a bit, and my legs shake.

Soren stands, his face gleaming from my pleasure. It's one of the most salacious sights of my existence, and I can't get enough of it.

He pulls the shirt off his body, exposing the acres of rippling muscle on his brawny torso. Then his pants drop, and my jaw goes slack.

His length is something I've only heard of in Ava's smutty books. He's pierced. A gleaming line of silver and gold bars run up his shaft. My jaw drops, and he gives me a satisfied smirk.

I stand up—my legs are still wobbly from that incredible, life-altering orgasm—and walk to him.

I don't know if that is going to fit, and I've never been with someone who has cock piercings. But fuck it, I'm not a quitter.

There is nothing but lust in his gaze as he eyes my naked body from head to toe, licking his lips.

"Get over here," he says, practically running into me and hoisting me into his arms. He walks over to the table, my legs wrapped around his waist. His arm snakes out, and he clears the table of its contents with one fell swoop. The plates and cups crash to the floor.

He retakes my mouth, and I can taste myself on his tongue. He has me on my back, sprawled on the table like dessert.

"I've wanted you since I met you," he purrs into my ear before lining his cock up with my pussy.

The sensation has me rolling and bucking my hips at first contact. I don't think I've ever wanted anything as much as I want him inside me right now.

His thick head stretches and presses into my entrance. So big, too big.

"Oh fuck, Soren, you're so big. I don't know if—"

He presses his fingers to my lips, shushing me."You can take me, Mari. I'll go slow. Tell me if you need me to stop." I nod at him, then playfully bite the fingers pressed to my lips.He growls at me before shifting his hips to go in deeper.

The friction is maddening. I need more of him. Want more of him. But I've had nothing this size. The first piercing slides in, and the sensation of the cold metal on my heated core has me moaning. I'm rocking on his cock, and he's only half seated in me. I need more.

"I want more, Soren. I want you inside me." He bears down, inching deeper, and I cry out. The girth of his cock pressing against that spot, that magical fucking spot that no other man has hit.

"Mari, oh gods." He goes deeper. "You are so fucking perfect, so tight." He pulls the head of his cock all the way out. Then,slowly slides itback in, inching its way further."I'm going to take all of you now. Are you ready?"

I nod. He locks those coffee-colored eyes on me, taking in every reaction that crosses my face as he thrusts into me, seating himself to the hilt.

We both sigh in relief. His massive girth filling me to the brim. Hot skin and cool metal. Then, by the will of the gods, he moves.

So slowly at first, letting my walls adjust to the absolute intrusion. My head rolls back. Inch by agonizing inch, he thrusts into me. His eyes never leave my face, testing for pain or pleasure. He looks pleased with the result.

"You take me so well, My Warrior," he says, punctuating his words with thrusts so deep they cause my vision to darken.

He leans down, kissing me again while he fucks me harder, his cock pumping in a rhythmic motion that has me moaning and moving with him. The table under us starts to groan and rattle under the weight of our bodies.

He doesn't seem to notice it, stroking into me, sucking the soft skin on my neck, my breasts. Working me so thoroughly, he doesn't hear the table legs crack.

We crash to the ground, all four legs giving out at once.

"Oh, my god," I laugh. "Sorry for breaking your table."

"Fuck the table," he says and jams his mammoth cock into me again.

With something solid to brace our movements, I bracket his hips with my legs. He smiles at me, pure lust and greed. Greedy that he's taking me, greedy that I'm loving every second of it.

He moves a hand between us to put pressure on my still-sensitive clit."I'm not going to stop until you come on this cock like you came on my tongue."

His words, his dirty fucking words, send shockwaves through my core. He moves faster, adjusting my hips for a better angle. He is no stranger to sex. He knowsjusthow to touch and move my body in a way I didn't even know could feel good. I've never enjoyed relinquishing control, but now it's like a drug.

My orgasm builds again, my vision going dark around the edges. Can you pass out from an orgasm? It's an experiment I'm willing to try.

"I'm close. I'm so close."I bite my lower lip, not wanting this to end. Living in this bliss.

"Are you going to scream my name again?" he says, all arrogance, pistoning into me like a madman. The sensation builds and builds with each intense thrust. Then I'm exploding. My second orgasm, more intense than the first. I feel the rush of heat flood my core.

"Fuck, that pretty pussy of yours is so good. Milking me like a good girl." He punctuates the words again with a stroke of his cock. "I'm so close, Mariana. Where do you want me?"

He's desperate, his movements becoming jerky.

"I want it. I want your cum, Soren." Who the fuck just said that? Because I know it wasn't me. Was it?

That is all he needs. With a few more pumps, he is spilling into me with a roar, anchoring my hips so not a drop spills out, hot release flooding my channel.

We're left in each other's arms, my back pressed to the broken table, panting. Satisfied.