GAHRYE

Kalle's head dropped back, her mouth open. He tasted her throat, then nipped her chin, before letting his lips slide against hers in tandem with his body.

Eyes closed and smiling, Kalle gave a beautiful sigh, her body rippling under him. She'd wrapped her legs around his waist the way he loved, and he'd been rubbing himself against her. But if they kept going that way, this wasn't going to be slow. So with a gentle nudge under her jaw, he slid down her body then, when she unwrapped her legs, he pushed up to kneel between her knees, panting a little.

Kalle opened her eyes and looked a question at him.

But he just wanted to take her in. So, bracing himself over her one arm, he trailed his fingers first from her jaw, down her neck, to her breast where he gave in and dipped down to take the peak in his mouth, sucking and rolling it the way he knew she loved.

Kalle gasped and arched, pressing herself into the contact. She grabbed at his shoulders and raised her knees again, ready to pull him in. And he almost gave in and took her, but he was determined to take his time tonight. To put aside the horror of what was to come, and to enjoy her. Let her enjoy him.

So with a playful tsk, he took her hand from his shoulder and sat back on his knees again, letting his hands trail down her stomach—softer now, her waist thicker after carrying Reece. Following the sight of his warmer skin on the palest parts of her, following the curve of her hip, then stroking his open hands up her thighs.

He had to stifle a groan when she let her knees fall open to give him access to her inner thighs. He trailed his fingertips around from her hips to those long stretches of the softest skin on her body, down towards her knees, his breath ratcheting up as her goosebumps chased his touch.

First she arched, then she tried to sit up, to reach for him, but he pushed her back down with a promising look, to stroke her legs again.

Kalle's legs had been his primary fascination for two decades, and he still got hard just thinking about them.

Cupping his hand under her knee, he lifted her leg, pulling it straight so her ankle rested on his shoulder and he could lay his lips on her calf, stroking his hands up and down her extended leg.

Kalle sighed. She'd long gotten past her self-consciousness of laying herself bare to him, of letting him enjoy her legs, whether she'd shaved them or not. He didn't understand the human obsession with removing hair from their bodies, but over time it had stopped mattering. Hairy, smooth, or spiky, nothing lit a fire in his belly faster than Kalle's thighs.

He stroked his hand down again, letting himself tease her, drawing closer and closer to those warm folds that called his name and that he couldn't give into quickly because it would make him lose his mind.

He very much wanted to see her tonight. To know her. To be with her.

Kalle's breath was getting heavier as he stroked. Then he found her and a bonfire leapt to life in his belly when he discovered how ready she was. He dropped his chin, his cheek brushing her leg as he groaned and shuffled forward, keeping her one leg high so she was opened to his view until he found her and could rub himself on her.

Kalle's breath caught and she arched to meet him, again and again, seeking him as he teased her. One hand on her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, Gahrye leaned forward over her, mouth open, marveling at the beauty of her as she writhed beneath him.

Tension broke over her in waves, making her body tremble with every pass. Gahrye gripped her knee, leaning forward over her to increase the pressure and she made a little cry as he rocked against her.

She lifted a hand to cup his neck as he leaned in harder, letting her leg slide from his shoulder, but pinning her knee high and tight against his ribs.

"Kalle…" he groaned.

"Please, Gahrye," she gasped. "Please."

Biting his lip and he fought for control, he tilted his hips and took her in one long, slow, slide, burying himself within her, groaning, and dropping his forehead into the hollow of her throat as she arched back, crying out for him.

For long minutes they only rolled together, holding and savoring the delicious friction between them. Gahrye braced on one hand, fisted into the pillow next to her head, her hand cupped around his arm and stroking up and down, using him for leverage to pull herself harder against him.

With every roll his ecstasy rose, and he fought, muscles flexed and rigid, to keep himself in control. Thrusting into her with small grunts of pleasure, stroking her leg, letting his fingers trail up her thigh and over her hip with his free hand.

But the longer they joined, the more he shook—emotion and desire conspiring to shred his control.

He eased back for a moment to take a break, to let the knife-edge draw away, but Kalle surprised him, cupping his face with both hands and opening her eyes to meet his.

"You're mine," she whispered, then bit her lip as he thrust into her. "Forever, Gahrye. You're mine. Only mine."

Then she lifted her hips and thrust against him.

Gahrye's mouth fell open on a guttural groan. "Kalle, wait—"

"No!" she cried, her voice high and quavering. "Please, Gahrye, I'm… oh god…"

Letting go of her leg so she could wrap both around his waist, he dropped to his elbows, hands cupped over her head, his lips hovering over hers, barely touching, their breaths harsh and mingling as their rocking became frantic.

"Forever, Kalle," he whispered and dipped his chin to open his mouth on her throat, bellowing the mating call against her skin as he found his release, praying Reece wasn't close enough to hear them.

Kalle's skin pebbled down her entire side and she sobbed his name, clenching on him, arching, her body trembling and tight.

Then they both collapsed, sweaty and panting, hearts pounding and clinging to each other, bodies entwined.

And even though he hated that it was over, there was no more beautiful moment than that, as they lay there, as close as two hearts, two bodies could be.

As they lay there, catching their breaths, returning to the world, Gahrye prayed that somehow, impossibly, this wouldn't be the last. That she would be his again. For a very, very long time.

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