The attempted escape, the chase, the storm that had raged around them and the one that raged inside him were too damned powerful to resist.
Gripping her hip with one hand, he braced his other hand next to hers on the fallen log.
"Storme, forgive me, lass." Because he couldn't go slow. Because he couldn't ease into her as he wanted. Because the need to fill her was riding him like a hard fever and he couldn't hold back any longer.
Storme felt the pressure of his c**k against the entrance of her pu**y, caught her breath, then let it out in a hard rush of air that should have been a scream.
Her entire body tensed at the first hard, determined thrust. It parted the clenched muscles of her pu**y, lodged the head of his c**k inside her with shocking swiftness and stole her breath as pleasure erupted within her.
"Styx!" Crying his name out, she arched into the thrust, trying to bury him deeper, harder, pleading for more of the intense, striking sensations that flooded her body at that first, abrupt entrance.
There was no need to beg. As desperate as she was for it, it was possible he was more so.
Storme barely had time to breathe in roughly before he was moving again, retreating, then thrusting in farther, deeper, the burning pleasure-pain of each thrust threatening to throw her over the edge of release with each fiery impalement, until he lodged deep inside her. The fierce, heavy pulses of the pr**cum throbbed from his cock, filling her, and each time she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it eased the fierce clench of her pu**y around his c**k while sensitizing the inner walls further.
A whimpering cry left her lips at the distant realization.
There were rumors, tabloid stories and whispered warnings to all female members of the pure blood societies about a phenomenon known as mating heat.
An uncontrollable lust that stole a woman's mind and made her a willing sensual slave to her Breed lover.
There were reports of the symptoms that she had never believed. The pr**cum that eased a woman's inner flesh and allowed her to easily take the overly thick width of the Wolf Breed cock. There were also rumors of the mating knot, the swelling in the cock.
She hadn't felt that, but she could feel the heavy thunder of his pulse thicker where her pu**y was narrower, as though something just beneath the flesh throbbed to be free.
If this was what it was, then she well understood why the women were warned.
Someone should have warned her of the pleasure, the heat and the sheer sensuality of it.
If she'd known this was it, then she couldn't say that she wouldn't have rushed into Styx's arms sooner.
"Styx," she whispered his name again as he thrust inside her fully once again before holding himself still inside her.
She could feel it more fully then. That hard throb in the middle of his cock, as though the flesh were fighting to expand, to lock him inside her.
"Ah, lass, I could die a happy man at this moment," he groaned. "Let me just linger a bit here. Let me feel that wee tight pu**y wrapped around my dick. Storme, love, you could drive a man mad for hunger of you."
His voice was rougher, the hand at her hip tightening, flexing as his hips shifted, pressing his shaft deeper inside her as she felt her pu**y clenching, tightening on him in increasing pleasure.
"Fuck me," she moaned. "Please, Styx. Oh God, please do something." She was trying to move, to shift her hips, to force him to move inside her when he gave a low, growling moan and began to move.
She felt the pleasure tearing through her at each hard thrust, each shocking penetration by the fiery heat of his cock. Electricity seemed to race over her body as her clit burned and swelled further and his fingers moved from her hip to between her thighs.
His fingers found her clit, and there she lost the ability to think. The calloused tips of his fingers stroked and tormented as his c**k thrust inside her with rapid strokes of ecstasy.
She was going to explode. She could feel it. She would die in his arms tonight and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She didn't want to stop it. Here, there was peace, there was a sense of security that she had never known in her life.
There was Styx.
"Ah, lass, you're so close," he groaned at her ear as his teeth raked over her shoulder. "I can't wait to feel it. Feel your wee sweet pu**y clenching on my dick. Give it to me, love. Give me your pleasure."
His fingers moved against her clit then, stroking against it as his hips moved harder, faster. He f**ked her with hard, powerful strokes, each penetration raking over nerve endings so sensitive, so hot and brutally responsive that she knew she was lost.
His fingers moved over her clit, rubbing, stroking. His c**k moved inside her, stretching her, sending a fiery riot of sensations straight to her womb as the building explosion detonated inside her.
She screamed his name, she knew she did. Her body tightened to the breaking point, sizzling fingers of sensation erupted across her nerve endings, and a tidal wave of ecstasy overtook her, shuddering through her body, shaking her, marking her even as Styx marked her shoulder with the sharp, once feared canines he buried in it as he gave himself up to his own release.
And in his arms, Storme knew that somehow, somewhere, she had lost a part of herself and her heart to the Breed that held her.