Chapter 126: Not a Sound

He claimed. His teeth scraped the sensitive swell of her breast, leaving red trails, before clamping down on the stiff peak. He bit down, not enough to break skin, but hard enough to make her cry out, a sharp, high sound that only made his cock throb harder inside her molten heat.

He sucked the abused nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking it rapidly, teeth scraping the tender flesh. His other hand mirrored the attention on her right breast, squeezing the plump mound, fingers sinking deep, thumb and forefinger pinching her other nipple until it was a dark, swollen nub.

Dove writhed beneath him, tears pricking her eyes, her moans a broken symphony of pain and desperate need. "Please... fuck... Edrik..." she whimpered, her hips trying to buck against his iron grip.

"Not a sound," he commanded, releasing her nipple with a wet pop. He reared back slightly, his cock still buried to the hilt, grinding against her cervix. He could feel her inner walls fluttering, trying to milk him. "Not yet. You don’t get to come yet." With agonizing slowness, savoring every inch of friction, he began to pull out.

Dove whimpered, feeling the thick shaft drag against her swollen inner lips, her clit screaming for contact. The head of his cock, slick with her juices and his pre-cum, stretched her entrance wide before finally popping free with a lewd, wet sound.

For a heartbeat, he hovered above her, his cock glistening and dripping. Dove’s body lay open and pulsing with need. Her breath hitched. Edrik’s eyes, dark with pure lust, raked over her trembling form. "Look at you," he said lowly, slapping his cock hard against her clit, making her jolt. "Begging for it. Begging for me."

He didn’t wait. He lined up, the swollen crown pressing against her slick entrance. Then, with a roar ripped from his gut, he drove forward, not just deep, but deeper. He pistoned his hips with brutal force, ramming his entire length back into her clutching depths in one savage thrust.

Dove screamed, her body bowing off the bed, her fingernails raking his back as he impaled her. Her cervix took the battering, each slam sending shockwaves through her belly. Edrik fucked her like he was trying to break her in half. Each withdrawal dragged her sensitive flesh raw, and each plunge buried him impossibly deep. The wet slaps of skin on skin filled the air alongside his guttural grunts and her choked moans. He leaned down again biting her shoulder marking her as his while his hands kept working her breasts twisting her nipples keeping the sensation sharp and bright alongside the overwhelming stretch of him inside her There was no tenderness only raw possession and the fierce unyielding claim of two bodies crashing together.

He flips them so she’s straddling him, wants to watch her, wants to see her face as she rides him, and his hands grip her hips hard enough to bruise, guiding her, worshipping her even as he fucks up into her hard enough to make her breasts bounce with the force of it.

"Edrik!" Her head tips back, and he sits up to catch one of her nipples in his mouth, biting just enough to make her gasp, and his hands never stop moving over her skin, gripping her thighs, her waist, her back, like he physically cannot stop touching every part of her.

She finds her own rhythm then, rising up on her knees until he almost slips free of her, then sinking back down, taking him to the hilt, and the sound she makes is nothing like restraint, nothing like the careful quiet of a woman who shares walls with other people’s sleep.

She doesn’t care. The thought flickers through her mind bright and fierce, let him hear, let him hear all of it, and she knows, she just knows, that somewhere on the other side of that door Thorne is sitting with his head tipped back and his hand wrapped around himself, listening to her fall apart, and the thought alone sends a fresh gush of wetness sliding down where Edrik is buried inside her.

"That’s it," Edrik groans around her nipple, teeth scraping, tongue soothing the sting a second later. "Ride me. Fuck, Dove, just like that."

She braces her hands on his massive shoulders, the new fox tattoo still raw and pink over his heart beneath her palm when she shifts her grip, and she grinds down hard, circling her hips, chasing the drag of him against every swollen, aching place inside her. His hands clamp onto her hips, not guiding now so much as holding on, like he needs the anchor of her as much as she needs the slide of him.

"Edrik." His name breaks apart in her mouth as she lifts and drops again, faster now, her thighs burning with the effort, but she doesn’t stop, can’t stop, the slick sound of her body taking his over and over filling the room louder than either of their voices.

He switches to her other breast, sucks the neglected nipple between his lips, flicks his tongue over it until she’s shaking, until her rhythm stutters and he has to help her, hips surging up to meet her, filling the gaps she can’t manage herself. Each upward thrust punches a sound out of her she doesn’t recognize as her own, a high, raw, completely unguarded sound.

"You hear that?" she gasps, not even sure who she’s talking to, maybe the door, maybe the dark beyond it, maybe just herself. "You hear what he’s doing to me?"

"Who are you talking to." Edrik’s voice is wrecked, a low rumble against her sternum, but there’s something satisfied curling under the question, something almost smug, as he knows exactly who she means and likes the answer.

"Everyone," she pants.

He laughs, breathless, a sound that turns into a groan when she clenches around him on purpose, deliberate and tight, and his hands tighten bruising-hard on her hips in answer. "Fuck, do that again."

She does, again and again, riding him with her head thrown back and her hair sticking to her damp throat, and the heat building low in her belly starts to coil tighter, sharper, until she’s not even moving with any real pattern anymore, just grinding and rocking and chasing the feeling cresting higher every second.

Edrik feels it too, feels the change in her, the way her whole body goes tight and trembling around him, and he flips her again before she can finish, flat onto her back, pinning her beneath the solid weight of him, and this time there’s nothing slow about it.