That night, I decided, was the night.
Leon had left that morning with his father, some trade negotiation with the wolf clans that would keep him gone for two days. Two days alone with Ravin. Two days of his golden gaze following me, his patience wearing thin, his desire barely contained behind every gentle touch.
We had moved to a new chamber, larger, more private, with a bed big enough for three. But tonight, with Leon gone, it would be just Ravin and me. My fierce, devoted Ravin who had waited through my cycle, through my hesitation, through every excuse I had made.
Tonight, I would give him everything.
I found him by the fire, his shoulders tense, his tail lashing with restless energy. He wore only his fur loincloth, the tanned hide soft against his golden skin, his golden hair loose around his shoulders, his sun-kissed skin glowing in the firelight. He was magnificent, broad and powerful, every muscle defined, his very presence commanding the room.
"Ravin," I said softly.
He turned, and his eyes widened as he saw me. I stood before him, completely bare, the firelight painting my skin in shades of amber and gold. His gaze felt like a physical touch, roaming over my breasts, the curve of my waist, the flare of my hips, so intense that heat rose to my cheeks. I fought the urge to cover myself, to cross my arms over my chest, and instead forced myself to stand tall under his scrutiny.
"Do you..." My voice came out breathless, trembling. I swallowed and tried again. "Do you like what you see?"
Ravin’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes darkening to molten gold. "Like?" He laughed, a rough, broken sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Krys, I’ve been hard since the moment you agreed to be mine. Since I first saw your true face by the stream." He shifted on the furs, and I saw the evidence of his words, the thick ridge of him straining against his wrap, undeniable and eager. "I’ve dreamed of nothing else. Every night, lying beside you, smelling your scent, feeling your warmth..." He broke off, his face flushing a deep crimson that spread down his neck and chest. "I’ve spent myself countless times imagining you beneath me. Your softness. Your heat." His voice dropped to a whisper, vulnerable and raw. "Is that... is that wrong of me? To want you so desperately?"
The confession hung between us, primal, honest, devastatingly intimate.
I felt something inside me crack open; a dam breaking, releasing all the hesitation and fear I had carried since waking in this world. I crossed the space between us, my bare feet silent on the stone, and cupped his face in my hands. His skin was fever-hot beneath my palms.
"No, Ravin," I whispered, my thumbs tracing the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the softness of his lips. "That’s not wrong. That’s beautiful." I pressed a kiss to his jaw, then the corner of his mouth, feeling his sharp intake of breath. "Knowing you want me, that you’ve wanted me for so long, it makes me feel..." I searched for the words, my own face heating. "It makes me feel powerful. Desired. Like I’m not worthless, but someone worth wanting."
"You are," he groaned, his hands finding my waist, his fingers digging into my softness with reverent hunger. "You are everything, Krys. My everything."
I pushed him gently onto his back and climbed atop him, straddling his hips. He was already hard. I could feel him through the leather, thick and insistent against my thigh. His eyes widened, his hands coming up to grip my waist with trembling possession.
"I don’t want to hurt you," he admitted, his voice shaking, his eyes roaming over my full hips, my soft waist, the generous flesh that trembled under his gaze. "You have all this lush softness, all these curves I want to sink into, but I’m so much larger than you. I could break you without meaning to. And I’ve never, you’re the first female I’ve ever held."
"I want you inside me," I whispered, the words falling from my lips before I could second-guess them. "Now, Ravin. Please."
He went utterly still beneath me, his golden eyes widening, darkening, burning. "You’re certain?" His voice was rough, barely human, his hands gripping my hips with desperate restraint. "I don’t want to hurt you. You’re so small, and I’m..." He glanced down at himself, thick and heavy against my thigh, a pearl of moisture beading at his tip.
"I trust you," I said, and meant it. "And you already know how to make me ready. You learned well, my student."
A growl rumbled through his chest, pride and hunger intertwined. His hands slid down my body, finding me with unerring accuracy, his fingers dipping into the wetness that had pooled there from nothing more than his voice, his gaze, his need. He knew exactly where to touch now, exactly how to circle, exactly how much pressure to apply. The lessons from our previous encounters had been learned thoroughly, his eagerness to please making him an apt pupil.
"You’re so wet," he groaned, his fingers working me with devastating precision. "So ready for me."
"Yes," I gasped, arching into his touch. "Now, Ravin. Please. I need you inside."
He rolled us smoothly, pinning me beneath him, his weight a comforting blanket that I had come to crave. The head of him pressed against my entrance, hot and insistent, and he paused there, his jaw clenched with the effort of restraint.
"Tell me if it’s too much," he gritted out, his forehead pressed to mine, his breath hot and ragged against my lips. "Tell me to stop, and I will. Always."
"I will," I promised, wrapping my legs around his waist, my heels digging into the firm muscle of his backside. "But don’t stop. Not yet."
He pushed inside.
The stretch was intense, a burning, filling sensation that made my breath hitch and my body tense. He was massive, thick and rigid, and for a moment I almost cried out for him to stop. It felt like being opened completely, stretched beyond what seemed possible, a sharp ache that throbbed with my heartbeat.
I bit my lip, my nails digging into his shoulders, my eyes squeezing shut against the sting.
But Ravin moved with agonizing slowness, reading my body like a language only he understood. He paused at my tension, his hips stilling, his hand sliding between us to find that sensitive bud above where we joined. His thumb circled, gentle and insistent, and the sharp edge of pain began to blur, to soften, to transform into something else entirely.
"Breathe," he whispered against my ear, his voice rough with restraint. "I’m too big, I know. But you’re taking me so well." He pressed forward another fraction, groaning as my body resisted. "Let me have the rest, Krys. Open for me. I promise I’ll make you feel better. Once I’m fully seated inside you."
I breathed. I forced my muscles to relax, to accept, to welcome him. And inch by inch, he sank deeper until he was fully seated, sheathed to the hilt, his pelvis flush against mine. The burn remained, a dull ache that pulsed with my heartbeat, but beneath it, around it, was a sense of completion so profound it brought tears to my eyes.
"Move," I gasped, my legs tightening around his waist. "Please. I need to know if... if it gets better."
It felt like my first time all over again, except this was what sex should have been. Hyunwoo had never reached this deep, never stretched me so perfectly full that every nerve sang with the stretch of him. Ravin consumed every inch of space inside me, heavy and thick and impossibly large, until I was nothing but heat and fullness and desperate, aching need.
He withdrew slowly, almost completely, and I felt the emptiness like a loss. Then he thrust back in, a deep, rolling stroke that dragged a ragged cry from my throat. Not pain this time, or not only pain. Something brighter. Something that sparked along my nerves like lightning, hitting a place inside me that made stars burst behind my eyes.
"Again," I begged, my heels digging into his backside. "Again, Ravin. Please."
He found his rhythm, deep and steady, each thrust building a fire in my belly that threatened to consume us both. The memory of Hyunwoo’s clumsy, selfish touch faded with every stroke, replaced by this, Ravin’s devotion, his reverence, his desperate need to please.
"Like this?" he panted, his hips snapping forward, the sound of our bodies meeting filling the room, wet and primal and perfect. "Is this good? Tell me, tell me what you need."
"Harder," I begged, my legs tightening around him, pulling him deeper. "Don’t hold back. I won’t break."
He growled, a sound of pure, primal triumph, and gave me what I asked for. His thrusts became harder, faster, the gentleness burning away beneath the heat of our joining. He was everywhere, his mouth on my throat, his hands gripping my hips, his weight pressing me into the furs, his length filling me again and again until I couldn’t remember where I ended and he began.
"Krys," he gasped, his voice breaking with wonder. "You are so tight, so hot..." He shuddered, his hips stuttering as he sank deep and held there, his forehead dropping to my shoulder. "Gods, I didn’t know, I never imagined..."
He pulled back to look at me, his golden eyes blown wide, wild with the discovery of it. "You’re squeezing me. Everywhere. Wet and perfect and..." He thrust again, harder, a broken groan tearing from his throat. "Is it always like this? This heat? This friction that makes me want to die and live forever in the same breath?"
"Yes," I breathed, though I knew it had never been like this for me either. "Just like that. Don’t stop."
"I can’t," he admitted, his voice raw and helpless. "I’ve waited what felt like my whole life for this moment, and now that I’m inside you, I never want to leave. You feel like, like coming home and being torn apart all at once."
His thrusts lost their rhythm, becoming desperate, chasing sensations he’d never known existed. "Tell me I’m doing it right," he begged. "Tell me this feels good for you too, because I, gods, Krys, I’m not going to last..."
"Ngh...You’re perfect," I moaned, my nails scoring his back. "Perfect. Just don’t stop. Please don’t stop."
When I came, it was sudden and overwhelming, my body clenching around him, my scream tearing from my throat, my vision whiting out with pleasure that shattered me like glass, every shard singing with sensation. He followed me over the edge, roaring my name as he spilled inside me, hot and thick and endless, filling me with his seed, marking me as his in the most ancient way.
He softened inside me slowly, our bodies still joined, his weight a comforting blanket I never wanted to lose. For long moments we lay there, panting, sweat cooling on our skin, the fire crackling low and casting dancing shadows across the furs. I traced idle patterns across his broad back, feeling the tremors that still raced through his muscles, the aftershocks of his first release.
"Again," I whispered against his ear.
He lifted his head, golden eyes hazy with spent pleasure but sharpening with new hunger. "Again?" His voice was rough, disbelieving. "I thought... I thought males needed time to recover."
"Not if you don’t pull out," I murmured, my inner muscles fluttering around him experimentally, feeling him twitch and begin to harden once more. "Stay inside me. Let me ride you this time."
His pupils blew wide, black swallowing gold. "Krys..."
I pushed at his shoulder, urging him onto his back. He rolled willingly, his hands coming to grip my hips as I settled astride him, taking him deeper in this new angle, my head falling back at the sensation of him filling me completely, hitting places that made my vision blur.
"Look at you," he breathed, his gaze devouring the sight of me above him, my breasts heavy and swaying with each movement, my nipples tight and aching, my stomach soft and trembling. "Look at how beautiful you are, taking me. Using me."
I rocked my hips experimentally, grinding down against him, and we both moaned in unison. The friction was perfect, his thickness dragging against my inner walls, the base of him pressing hard against that sensitive bud with every downward roll. I set a slow, deliberate pace, learning the rhythm of my body on his, watching his face transform from wonder to desperate need.
"Touch me," I commanded, my voice throaty with power. "Touch my breasts."
He didn’t hesitate. His large hands cupped me, thumbs brushing over my nipples with reverent hunger, sending sparks shooting straight to my core. I moved faster, riding him with increasing confidence, my thighs burning with the effort, my hair falling around us like a curtain.
"Harder," he groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet me, driving himself deeper. "Please, Krys, I need..."
"Like this?" I gasped, slamming down onto him, taking him to the root.
"Yes, by the beast gods, yes!" His head thrashed against the furs, his tail lashing wildly beneath us. "You’re squeezing me again, so tight, so wet."
I leaned forward, bracing my hands on his broad chest, changing the angle so he dragged against that perfect spot inside me with every stroke. The pleasure built higher, sharper, a coil tightening low in my belly. I was close, so close...
"Ravin," I panted, my movements becoming erratic, desperate. "I’m going to..."
"Let me feel you," he begged, his hands moving to grip my waist, guiding my movements, his own hips snapping up to meet me with increasing force. "Come on my cock, Krys. Show me what I do to you."
His words shattered me. I cried out, my body seizing, inner muscles clamping down on him in rhythmic pulses that dragged a ragged groan from his throat. He followed me over immediately, his back arching off the furs, his roar of completion echoing off the stone walls as he spent himself deep inside me, hot and endless, marking me as his once more.
I collapsed onto his chest, our hearts hammering in frantic sync, our bodies slick with sweat and seed, utterly spent.
We lay there in silence, the only sound our ragged breathing and the crackle of the dying fire. I could feel him still inside me, softening but present, his seed leaking out around him, warm and undeniable. Twice. He had spilled inside me twice, and I hadn’t even thought to stop him.
Of course he had. I had ridden him, urged him on, begged him not to stop. And he was a beast man, a lion prince, a male who had never been with a woman before. Why would he think to pull out? Why would he know about birth control when such a concept probably didn’t exist in this world?
But what if I get pregnant? The question tumbled through my mind, my breath coming faster. I should have... there should have been some way to prevent it. In my world, we have pills, condoms, ways to control when we conceive. Here, there’s nothing. Just the pull out method, and I lost myself to the pleasure and forgot about it...
I pressed a hand to my stomach, the reality crashing down on me. No birth control. No protection. Just his seed deep inside me, twice in one night.
Damn, I thought, my eyes closing. I hope I’m not pregnant. I’m not ready.
He must have felt my tension, the way my body had gone rigid against him, because he was quiet for a moment, then his hand covered mine where it rested on my womb. "Are you okay? you’ve gone quiet."
"It’s nothing.... I’m fine" I told him, fighting the tears from failing from my eyes.
He kissed my forehead, his arms tightening around me. "Are you sure? It was amazing for me. was it for you?"
"It was amazing for me too..." I smiled telling him the truth.
"I love you," he whispered against my ear, his voice hoarse, his arms banding around me like iron. "I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. Thank you for choosing me. For letting me in."
"I love you too," I promised, whatever happens we’ll deal with it then. I smiled, holding him close, feeling him softening inside me, still connected. "I see you, Ravin. I choose you. Tonight and always."
And as the fire burned low and the two moons rose high outside our window, I discovered that love, like fire, only grew brighter when finally given fuel, burning until there was nothing left but ash and starlight, and the promise of tomorrow.