Hands were suddenly under her armpits, pulling her farther up the bed, to the center of the large mattress. She blinked rapidly, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

“I turned them off.”

“Why?” Vivienne wasn’t particularly afraid of the dark in the traditional sense of the word. She slept with the lights out, and at times, sat in the darkness and let her mind wander but being in the darkness with someone else, with Conall, unnerved her.

***

Conall heard the plea in her voice and ignored it. Vivienne was a human virgin, and he was part animal, quite literally. She’d already panicked at seeing his size and he would grow even larger. A slight pang of guilt went through him as he saw her face in the darkness, her eyes darting about as she tried to see him.

He traced a finger across her lips, comforting her, as the other reached down to capture a soft breast. She moaned, her lips parting slightly, and her tongue darted out to lick at his finger.

“I want to see you, Conall.”

Fluidly, he leapt over her, nudging her thighs apart and settling between them. His hands went to her face as he leaned down and kissed her lips.

“I would rather kill myself than hurt you. Do you believe me?”

She hesitated for a few seconds before she nodded. She didn’t know why but instinct told her to trust him. “You have nothing to fear from the darkness, Vivienne. Nothing to fear from me,” he murmured against her lips. As his tongue caressed hers, she completely forgot they were completely cloaked in darkness. Her short nails dragged along his skin as she clutched at him, arching into the hard length that nudged against her center.

Conall growled, burying his face in her neck. She whimpered as he sucked at neck, and cried out when a long finger slid into her once more. Her hips rose off of the bed to meet it as it moved within her. He inserted another and she whimpered as her walls stretched to accommodate it.

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That’s it, Vivienne. Just like that. His voice was husky as his fingers prepared her for his invasion.

Vivienne was approaching another orgasm when his fingers slipped free. Her nails dug fiercely into his back. “No, please—Conall…?”

She halted when something much larger and harder pressed against her. Her eyes widened and she moaned again as he rubbed his thick length along her slit, teasing her mercilessly. Her hand slid into his hair. He growled low. Conall knew he must sound wild, but Vivienne didn’t seem to care. She pulled his head down to hers once more.

Conall had been swiftly losing control to the animal from the moment he’d touched her, but at the very end of the tightrope he held on to his control. As he positioned himself at the very place he wanted to be buried, he thought of the best way not to hurt her.

Merging his mind and emotions with hers, he surged forward, impaling her on his length.

A cry tore from her lips and she jerked back. Through their mental connection, Conall briefly felt the stifling pain, before she began to feel his pleasure. The rush had her moaning, arching against him, wanting even more. He slid deeper, and through her panting, she smiled in the darkness.

God, this is even better than chocolate….

Conall might have chuckled at the compliment, but for the fact that he was finally sheathed inside of her. She felt better than he’d imagined, and he held himself still for a few seconds, allowing the scent pouring off of him to creep into her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered that werewolves were not supposed to mark or mate humans, but as far gone as he was, he was beyond caring.

He began to move, pulling back slowly only to slide deep at the same pace. She was so wet, so ready for him, that despite her tightness, he moved inside with a fluidity that clearly spoke to her being made to fit him. Reaching down, he grabbed a leg and pushed it out to the side before raising it by the knee. Another inch of him slipped into her body, and she cried out. It was all pleasure. He moved faster, quickening his pace as he pushed her toward another orgasm. She arched off of the bed as she came, and collapsed right after, sweaty and worn out.

Conall was not finished. He pulled from her body, his keen eyes recognizing the slickness of her juices coating him, and easily flipped her onto her belly. Reaching under her, he lifted her until she was upright on her knees before him. Vivienne whimpered, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

Tired. No. Too tired. So tired she hadn’t bothered to speak aloud.

With one arm holding her up, Conall nipped at her neck, at her shoulders, and kissed each little bite after. He brought his other hand down to her center, and danced his finger over her sensitive nub.

She moaned low. His fingers pinched at her lightly and after some seconds of play, he turned his hands to her breasts. After kneading them and pulling at her nipples, he kissed her shoulder, her spine, before he released her breasts and trailed kisses down to the dip in her back. His hand pushed at her shoulder, and she went forward, her hands falling to the mattress and she adjusted to the position.




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