I stared at Veylan who looked like he was ready to be anywhere else but here. His silver eyes darted toward the door, toward the window, toward any escape route that might spare him from this moment. His massive frame, usually so imposing, seemed to shrink into itself, his broad shoulders hunched as if expecting a blow.
I walked slowly to him and sat on his bed. He literally shot off the bed as if burned, landing on his knees next to my feet, his head bowed, his hands trembling where they gripped his thighs.
"Krys," he whispered, his voice rough with fear. "I don’t think I can do this. What if I lose my reason again? What if I hurt you?" He looked up at me, and I saw tears swimming in those silver eyes, saw the terror of a man who had been consumed by his own body once and couldn’t bear to repeat the sin. "I don’t know if I can control myself."
I looked at this man who was as big as Ravin, massive and built like a warrior, shrinking like a scared little puppy next to me. The contrast broke my heart.
"Veylan," I said softly, reaching out to touch his hair, running my fingers through the silver strands. "You know what happened last time was unavoidable. You were drugged. You can’t continue to make yourself feel guilty. I’ve long since healed." I waited until he met my eyes, until I saw the desperate hope there warring with his shame. "Let’s try again, this time slower. I promise if I don’t like something, I will tell you."
He looked at me as if not sure he should believe me, as if kindness were a language he had forgotten how to speak. But eventually, slowly, like a creature expecting the trap to spring, he rose from his knees and sat near me again. I could feel the heat coming off of him, the tension in his muscles, the way he held himself rigid against his own fear.
We sat there like that, the silence stretching between us, heavy with everything unsaid. I was letting him get a hold of himself, letting him be ready, giving him the space to choose this or to walk away.
When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. "You know... I saw you that day with Caelion."
Remembering that night when Veylan had caught Caelion and me having sex, I turned beet red, the heat flooding my face. But he continued, lost in the memory, his eyes distant.
"I finished my bath when I heard it," he said, his voice taking on a dreamlike quality. "The sounds. The scent coming off of you traveled to where I was, and it was intoxicating. Before I knew it, I was there, watching you." He looked down at his hands, clenched tight in his lap. "I swear I never thought of you in that way before. I promised myself I’d be single. I didn’t want a mate."
He paused, swallowing hard, and when he spoke again, his voice cracked. "My mother was horrible. My father was the chief, but my mother always humiliated him. He was not favored by her. She only took him as a mate because he held a high standing position." His jaw tightened, muscle jumping beneath the skin. "When she became pregnant with me, she couldn’t wait to be rid of me. She told everyone I was a burden, a weight dragging her down."
He laughed, but there was no humor in it, only pain. "When I was born, my father raised me, but he never cared for me in the slightest. Because like him, I was not wanted. I was a reminder of his weakness, of his inability to be loved."
"A few years ago, Rina came to our territory with her father. One of her uncles had taken a female from my tribe as his mate, so their family visited often." His mouth tightened. "At first, she seemed pleasant. Beautiful, even. I thought so too." His gaze dropped to the ground. "A young male named Roe fell for her almost immediately. She accepted him as her mate, and for a while, everyone believed he was fortunate. But nothing he did ever pleased her. She mocked him, humiliated him, and treated his devotion as if it were something disgusting." Veylan’s jaw clenched. "None of us interfered. That was the order of things. A female’s treatment of her mates was considered her private concern." Bitterness crept into his voice. "Even my father became a laughingstock because of the way my mother treated him, and still no one dared challenge her." He swallowed. "Eventually, Rina rejected Roe. She laughed while the broken bond drove him mad. She watched his mind unravel and showed no remorse. When he died, she did not even pretend to mourn him." His fingers curled into fists.
"Not long afterward, Rina’s father saved my mother from a beast man who had lost himself to Moonrut. My mother became infatuated with him and wanted to claim him as a mate. But he was still bonded to Rina’s mother. She had abandoned him, but she had never formally released him, and the bond they shared through their daughter was the only thing keeping him from falling into madness." Veylan gave a humorless laugh. "So my mother offered another way to repay him and strengthen the alliance between their families. She promised that one of her children would bond with one of his."
His eyes closed, his expression twisting as the memory returned.
"Rina chose me." The words came out flat and heavy.
"My mother ordered me to accept her. My father agreed. They told me it was my duty to the tribe." His eyes opened again, burning with restrained fury. "But I refused. I would not give myself to a female who could destroy a devoted mate and laugh while he lost his mind. I would not spend my life waiting for the day she tired of me and cast me aside too." His entire body went rigid. His breathing quickened, and beneath his skin, his wolf stirred. He turned to look at me, tears streaming freely now. "So I refused. I told my parents I would rather die than bond with her. My father called me a coward. My mother said I was useless, a failure, that I had ruined everything she had worked for. They cast me out that night." He took a shaky breath. "I never wanted a mate after that. If I had to be under someone’s command, under someone’s thumb, I would rather be a lone wolf. Coming here was purely accidental. I aimlessly wandered, no destination, no purpose. And the king was very kind. So I stayed."
He turned to look at me, and his expression shifted, softened. "When you guys came back, I noticed you, but it wasn’t anything pulling. Not until that night." His voice dropped lower, intimate, raw. "When you and Caelion were mating. The expressions on your face, the way your head was thrown back, the way you sounded." He blushed, then continue, "And how you are with your mates... It wasn’t like what I had seen with Rina and her victim. It was love. It was wanted. It was everything I never seen before." He laughed bitterly at himself. "And ever since then, I couldn’t think of nothing else."
He paused, his shoulders slumping. "During the mate selection process, I half-heartedly hoped you would come out seeking another mate. So that I could present myself. But I was also scared how you would treat a mate like me." He looked away. "But seeing you with your mates, seeing how you loved them, how they loved you, made me greedy. Made me want things I had sworn I would never want."
His voice broke completely. "But then the moonrut happened. And I became the very thing I feared. I hurt you. I took without asking. I had no choice, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The result was the same." He buried his face in his hands. "And well, you know the rest."
He sighed, a sound of utter exhaustion, as if telling his story had hollowed him out, left him empty of everything but the truth.
I didn’t expect a life story. And how honest and vulnerable he was being, laying himself bare before me, showing me the wounds that had never healed, the scars that ran deeper than flesh. This man who had been unwanted by his own parents, who had chosen loneliness over submission, who had witnessed true cruelty and feared becoming its victim, then feared becoming its perpetrator.
I smiled through my tears and grabbed his hand, his fingers cold and trembling in mine.
"Would you like to do the things me and Caelion did that night?" I asked softly.
He looked at me, his silver eyes wide, hopeful, terrified. The question hung between us, heavy with promise, with the chance to finally heal, to finally be wanted, to finally belong.
"Yes," he whispered.
It was all the answer I needed. I leaned in to kiss him, and he went rigid, completely still; shocked, frozen, his lips parted in surprise beneath mine, then he melted into it, his mouth opening wider, his tongue tentatively seeking mine as he got into the groove and kissed me back with a hunger that stole my breath.
His hands moved with startling boldness, going straight for my breasts, cupping them through the thin fabric of my gown. I pulled back, confused, studying his face. "Have you done this before?"
"No," he admitted, his cheeks flushing that adorable pink I was learning to crave. "But... I’ve seen you with Caelion before." His thumbs brushed over my nipples, already hardening beneath his touch. "Can I try to do the stuff he was doing?"
I laughed, the sound breathy and disbelieving. "Exactly how much did you see?" Curiosity burned through me, imagining him hidden in shadows, watching, learning, wanting.
"Enough to get the gist of it." He smiled, and there was something wicked in it now, something that made my core clench with anticipation.
He started kissing down my body with enthusiasm that made me gasp; hot, open-mouthed presses of lips against my collarbone, the hollow of my throat, the swell of my breasts. When he finally closed his mouth around my nipple, sucking hard, I arched off the furs to meet him, my fingers tangling in his silver hair to hold him there. He moved to the other peak, lavishing attention with his tongue, his teeth grazing just enough to make me whimper before he continued his descent.
He kissed down my stomach, his lips tracing the curve of my hip, the sensitive skin just above my navel. When he reached the heat of me, he paused; and inhaled. Deeply. Shamelessly.
My thighs instinctively tried to close, embarrassment flooding through me. "Do—do you have to sniff me?"
"You smell so delicious though," he murmured, the vibration of his voice against my most sensitive flesh making me shiver. "Like honey and heat. I want to remember this."
Then he started licking, and I gasped; it was ticklish, too light, the wet swipe of his tongue broad and unfocused. I squirmed, reaching down to guide him.
"Don’t just lick it," I instructed, my voice trembling with need. "You got to find that spot, right here." I touched myself, showing him the hood of my clit, that bundle of nerves aching for attention. "Lick here. Slowly. Apply pressure but not too much."
He learned fast. Oh god, he learned fast. He sucked that sensitive bud into his mouth, his tongue circling with perfect pressure, and I cried out, my hips bucking against his face. "I saw Caelion doing this too," he mumbled against me, the vibration making me see stars. "Do you like this?"
I was going to ask him what he meant, but then his finger pushed inside me; thick, insistent, curling just right and I gasped, then moaned, my head falling back against the pillows.
"Yes," I managed, my voice ragged. "Curve your finger upward a little. Yes, there." I showed him my g-spot, that rough patch of heaven, and when he found it, my vision blurred. "Push your finger in and out. Don’t worry. It feels good. Yes, add another finger. Yes, Veylan, like that."
He worked me with his mouth and his hand, his enthusiasm making up for any lack of finesse. I came quickly, hard, crying out my release as my body clamped down around his fingers, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through me. Veylan lapped at me like a happy dog, drinking me down, his eyes closed in bliss. "You taste so good, Krys," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Better than anything."
I got up, my limbs still trembling from my orgasm, and pushed him down onto his back. He went willingly, his chest heaving, his cock standing proud and thick against his stomach. "Now my turn to show you," I purred, crawling between his legs.
I grabbed his cock, loving the heaviness of his size, how hot and rigid he was in my palm, the way it twitched at my touch. A bead of precum already glistened at the tip, and I licked it away, savoring the salty musk of him. He groaned, long and low, his hips bucking involuntarily.
I sucked him into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks, taking him as deep as I could. He was big, stretching my lips, and I loved the weight of him on my tongue. He bucked his hips again but stopped abruptly, panic flashing across his face when he thought he was hurting me.
"You’re fine," I told him, looking up through my lashes, and continued my ministrations. I worked him with my hand and my mouth, finding a rhythm that made his thighs shake, that made his fingers dig into the furs. When he came, it was with a shout, his cock pulsing against my tongue as he spilled down my throat. I swallowed every drop, milking him until he was whimpering, oversensitive.
"Was that good?" I asked, licking my lips, savoring his flavor.
"It was very good..." he panted, his chest still heaving, his eyes dark with lingering need. "But I wanted to be inside you." He looked a bit sad, his cock already softening.
I laughed, the sound rich and knowing. "You still can. You can keep going."
At that, his eyes widened, and I watched in fascination as his cock stirred back to life, filling rapidly, standing at attention once more. Ready for another round. The recovery time of his was pure, unbridled desire.
I smiled and laid back, spreading my legs for him, showing him how wet he’d made me, how ready. "Put it inside me, Veylan," I whispered, my voice dripping with invitation. "Let’s feel good together."
He came towards me, his movements predatory now, confidence building with every touch. His cock nudged at my entrance, slick with my arousal and his own excitement. Once he found my opening, he pushed forward; slow at first, then harder as my body yielded to him.
The stretch stung, delicious and perfect, my walls fluttering around his intrusion as he filled me completely. He started fucking me then, finding a pace that started steady and grew frantic, his hips snapping against mine, the sound of our bodies meeting filling the room. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting him thrust for thrust.
Then I came again, screaming his name, my nails raking down his back, and he followed right after, burying himself to the hilt and pulsing inside me. But he didn’t stop; he was insatiable, his need driving him onward. He took me another round, flipping me onto my stomach and entering me from behind, his hands gripping my hips as he fucked me so thoroughly. At least this time there were no pain and fear; only heat, and sweat, and the sound of our mingled cries. It was hot and so good, and I knew this was only the beginning our time together.