inch of him, hot and hard, driving into her unrelentingly.
Her knees buckled.
Zevris wrapped an arm around her middle and cinched her up against him. He came with a roar, his cock expanding for an instant before his seed blasted inside her womb, filling her with heat. His primal roar brimmed with pleasure, with triumph, with conquest, and it only intensified the vibrations of his tail, combining with the jerking of his cock to coax her to another peak.
Tabitha rode those waves of ecstasy for a delicious eternity, her pussy spasming and contracting, greedily working Zevris’s shaft to take everything he had.
When his thrusts finally faltered, and her awareness languidly returned, she found herself with her chest on the table and her head cradled in her arms. She was panting, her breaths disturbing the hair that had fallen into her face. Beads of sweat trickled over her skin. Her body felt loose and sated; she’d been ridden hard, but well-loved.
Zevris’s hands slid up, gliding over her sides in soothing caresses. He leaned over her, placing kisses along her spine as he massaged her back, her sides, her shoulders, her arms. But he did not withdraw from her—and his shaft remained hard as steel.
“Mmm,” Tabitha moaned, arching against him.
He grunted and smoothed one of his hands down to her hip. He drew his pelvis back, but instead of pulling out, he thrust into her again.
Tabitha rocked, gasping at the sudden flare of pleasure. She pushed up on her hands and looked up at him over her shoulder, eyes wide. “Again?”
His fangs were bared, his eyes blazing, and his sculpted muscles glistened with a sheen of sweat. He pumped his hips a second time, using his hold on her hip to pull her against him with more force. His snarl stretched into a sinful grin. “Again. You started this, Nykasha. Now I’m going to finish it. Over and over and over…”
Twenty-Five
Tail flicking lazily on the bed beside him, Zevris hummed in satisfaction and drew Tabitha’s body a little more firmly against his. He smoothed one of his palms up and down her back, following the line of her spine, while the other kneaded and caressed her thigh, which he held over his midsection. She was warm, soft, and languorous in the wake of their lovemaking. She had a hand settled on his chest, fingers tracing lazy, abstract patterns.
He couldn’t ignore the fact that her inner thigh was pressing down on his throbbing shaft, pinning it against his belly. It was a pleasurable feeling, even if it was a teasing one. That stimulation, however small, would’ve been unbearable half an hour ago, and he would’ve been helpless but to act upon it. But he was finally regaining some semblance of control after hours and hours of being lost in a maddening haze of lust.
He’d lost count of how many times they’d mated since he’d walked into her workroom and been hit by that lily of the valley scent.
Zevris lifted his head off the pillow and glanced down at Tabitha. Though the bedroom lights were off, and night had long since fallen, he could see her clearly—especially with the gentle blue glow cast upon her by his eyes and tattoos.
Her hair was disheveled, spread over his arm, shoulder, and chest. Her pale skin was not without markings—faint red lines and spots where his claws and fangs had scratched and nipped, a few dull purple bruises on her hips and thighs in the rough shapes of his fingers. He’d not broken her skin, and, though she’d assured him she was unhurt, he’d apologized for those marks.
She’d told him they were sexy. He agreed; Tabitha looked well and thoroughly loved.
“I couldn’t get up if I wanted to,” Tabitha murmured.
Zevris chuckled. “Do you want to?”
“Nah”—she flattened her hand on his chest—“I’m good. Just can’t move.”
He slid his hand up her thigh and cupped her ass, giving it a squeeze. His arm pressed her leg down harder on his cock, creating another spark of pleasure. “If I need more, you won’t have to. I’ve plenty of energy left for the both of us.”
She snorted and nestled closer to him. “Not sure how. Have you slept at all?”
“I have not.” He lowered his head, looking up at the ceiling and the shadows cast across it. They’d come to bed hours ago, and he’d woken her three times—no, this had been the fourth—to deal with his enduring need.
Tabitha was not a faloran, and she lacked the strength and endurance of his