Avet, Danica - Ain't No Bull [The Veil 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) (28 page)

It had to be the bond, he thought in joyful exhaustion. Their hearts beat in unison, their bodies strained towards each other, and their souls melded. It was frightening. It was beautiful. Gods, it was perfect.

Isola slumped over him, her inner muscles quivering around his still jerking cock, her body instinctively draining his of its essence. Together they shuddered and panted as they were lost in the throes of an orgasm so intense it had to have registered on the Richter scale. Grant didn’t even realize he’d shredded the bindings holding his hands until he found his arms around Isola, his hands stroking her damp back.

Her entire body shook with the aftermath of their pleasure, her soft, sobbing breaths wafting over his sweat-slicked chest. Grant closed his eyes, content to hold her in his arms, his cock snug in her fluttering pussy. It was a moment out of time, completely separate from everything that had happened since they first met. They were one. He never wanted it to end.

That’s the exact moment when a sudden fire swept through his body. His skin, which had finally dried from his exertions, beaded with sweat again.

Isola moaned. “You’re hot.”

Grant closed his eyes, trying to fight the need in him. The sensation was like none he’d ever experienced before, like someone had lit a fire just beneath his skin. It didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable, leaving him panting for air.

“Grant? What’s wrong?” she asked as she pressed her soft hand against his cheek.

He couldn’t speak. It was like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, but he found out his body could do the talking for him. He heard Isola gasp even as he felt his cock swell inside her.

If she hadn’t relaxed, he might have tried to disengage their bodies, but she melted all over him like butter on hot toast. She was like liquid silk around his dick, and all he could think about was coming inside her again.

With that foremost in his mind, he flipped them over until she was trapped beneath him. Lodged deep inside her, he propped himself up on his hands to look at her. A rosy flush of arousal coated her face and her eyes were deep pools of bittersweet chocolate.

“I have to…” He groaned as he nudged his cock deeper inside her channel.

Her eyes rounded in surprise. “G–Grant? Are you getting…bigger?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as dangerously sharp pleasure wafted through him. Gods, he was getting bigger! He could feel his dick lengthen and thicken until Isola’s sweet little pussy fit him as tight as a vise.

He panted for breath as sweat trickled down his spine. He had to move, he had to plunge into her until he coated her with his seed. He had to make her his.

* * * *

Izzy couldn’t catch her breath. Sex…hadn’t always been like this. She was almost positive of that. It might’ve been a while since she rode a bucking bronco, but c’mon, there was no way she felt the earth move during the orgasm. But she’d never, ever had a male grow bigger inside her on a second round of play.

But Grant was blowing all of her perceptions about sex out of the water. Even as that thought hovered in her mind, it was whisked away as he pumped his hips. Her fingers sank into the cheeks of his tight ass of their own violation. Oh, gods! His new size hit every single, fucking nerve ending in her pussy and massaged it. She shuddered as he gave another experimental thrust, her back arching up, her hips curling into his for more.

He made a sound like a growl that vibrated through her body mere seconds before he lifted away from her slightly to balance on his knees. Her eyes popped open even as she parted her lips to utter a protest. She never got the chance to bitch him out because he hoisted her right leg up and out to the side.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as the movement sent him deeper inside her. He never stopped pumping his hips, sending his now massive cock further into her with sharp, hard thrusts. Her breasts bounced at the pace. Her breath left her in soft, little yips of sound she couldn’t seem to control.

“Gods, Isola,” he groaned as he quickened his strokes. “Tell me you’re close.”

He actually wanted her to talk? Was he fucking crazy?

Then he brushed her clit with the tips of his fingers, spreading her moisture around the taut bud. Izzy squeaked, feeling as though he’d shot her full of electricity. She grabbed for his hand to pull it away. It was too much, but he snapped his teeth at her and slammed into her hard enough to make her lose her breath.

“Mine.”

She didn’t know if he meant her clit or her body or whatever and she wasn’t about to ask him. Not when each pounding of his cock inside her body sent shockwaves through her. She wasn’t a complete idiot.

Letting go of his hand, she lifted her arms over her head to grasp the headboard, clutching at it frantically. Grant went back to playing with her clit, stroking, pinching, tweaking it until the tension inside her exploded outwards.

Izzy didn’t even have the breath to shriek like she wanted to, like her body demanded. All she was capable of was a soundless cry as her pussy convulsed in sheer pleasure. She vaguely heard Grant grunt as her inner muscles locked around him in a rhythmic dance that sent him over the edge. His hips bucked against her three more times before he stiffened with a long, low moan, spilling scalding hot seed into her body.

Panting, feeling more than a little lightheaded, Izzy peered up at him to see him frozen above her as his cock emptied into her. That’s when she saw that at some point he’d planted her foot flat against his shoulder, opening her wider. She shook her head. Did it really matter that he’d made like Auntie Anne and tried to turn her into a pretzel? Not one damned bit. Not when he’d rocked her world so hard she wouldn’t be able to walk straight ever again.

Finally, as though air was let out of a balloon, he collapsed on her, his body quivering with the aftershocks of his orgasm. They were both sticky with sweat and cum, breathing like they’d just run a marathon, and Izzy had never felt more satisfied in her entire life. If she could breathe, she’d purr, but all she could do was wheeze.

Grant nuzzled her neck, sending a shiver through her body that made him groan as her inner muscles gave another flutter around his cock. Even spent, he filled her and it seemed as though her body was reluctant to let him go.

His tongue swept out to lap at her throat and the sensation washed through her body, heating her up again. She couldn’t go another round though and she had a feeling neither could Grant. He was just loving on her.

And she liked it. Her lips curled in a lazy smile as he propped his body up on his elbows over her. How weird was that? In the past, she couldn’t wait to kick her lovers out of the bed, but with him—

Something hard landed on her nose and pain exploded.

“Ow!” She clutched her face as blood leaked out of her nostrils. So much for the fucking afterglow!

“Dammit, baby, I’m sorry,” Grant muttered as he disengaged their bodies to lay next to her. “Let me look at it.”

She didn’t want him to look at it. She wanted to kick his ass just because. But she didn’t. He was so lucky he’d mellowed her out with great sex!

Removing her hands from her face, she let him look at her nose. “What hit me?” she asked when he was finished examining her.

She looked up at the ceiling, expecting to see a piece of plaster missing or something. It looked perfectly fine. Her eyes swept across the room. Maybe Rosetta had snuck in and thrown something at her for her sappy expression. But nope, no one was in the room except her and Grant.

He didn’t answer her. That’s when Izzy felt the tension in his body and sensed the dread hanging over them. Moving slowly, like something out of a bad dream, she turned her head to look at him. He was gorgeous as usual, his skin still glistening with the sweat of his efforts, his hair clinging to his face and neck. But his skin was pale and those peepers of his were solemn. Something was different, though, and her stomach tightened as she tried to puzzle it out.

The movement of her head pressed her cheek against something small and hard. With a sense of foreboding, she reached to her face to see what it was. It was slightly warm and curved. Izzy plucked it from the pillow and held it up to her face.

It was a ring. A gold ring she’d stared at for the past several days. Her gaze flicked from the ring to Grant and back again as dawning horror filled her.

Jackknifing to her knees, she thrust the ring at him with desperation. “Put it back in!”

He evaded her hand, capturing her wrist in a gentle hold. “Baby—”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me! Put it back in your nose, right now!”

His nostrils flared, but without the ring there, it seemed…strange. “I can’t.” His tone was flat and angry. “We’re m—”

She stopped his words by plastering her free hand over his mouth. “No, no. We’re not. We can’t be,” she babbled, feeling hysteria grip her. “It just fell out, that’s all! Look, let me just put it back and no one will ever know.”

Frantic now, Izzy tried shoving the ring back into his septum, succeeding only in pissing Grant off. “Isola, dammit! Calm down!”

She shook her head as she tried to open the ring with hands that trembled so badly, she thought she was having a seizure. “I can fix this,” she mumbled as she tried and failed to open the ring over and over again.

One of his big hands—hands that could bring so much pleasure—folded over hers, stilling her movements. “Isola, we’re mated.” He gave her cold fingers a warm squeeze. “You belong to me and I belong to you.”

Her brain seemed completely fried. She couldn’t believe any of this, couldn’t wrap her mind around it. It was impossible. She couldn’t be mated, she didn’t fucking want to be mated. Except there was no denying that she held Grant’s ring in her hand. Just like there was no getting around the fact that her Amazon instincts had taken over, completing the mating dance of her people.

Mated.

“You ho!” Rosetta’s triumphant shout came from the door leading to the bathroom.

Izzy jumped, her eyes flying to the doorway where her best friend was posed. The triumphant gleam in Rosetta’s eyes was like a splash of icy cold water. She scrambled off the bed, the ring clutched in her hand.

She couldn’t look at Grant. Wasn’t sure she even wanted to. Panic beat at her like Mike Tyson, threatening to throw her into a tailspin of fear she wasn’t sure she could pull out of.

“Rosetta—” she croaked to her friend, reaching out her hand.

“I’m gonna tell,” the six-foot-seven drag queen sang out as she ran through the bathroom.

Izzy shot off after her friend before Grant could do anything like stop her. She heard him shout something behind her, but there was no stopping her until she stopped Rosetta. Barreling through the bathroom, she slammed open the door to the guest bedroom. The little shit had run into the living area already.

“Shit!” Stumbling over her duffle bag, she snagged a T-shirt she sometimes used for sleeping. It barely covered her ass but it was better than running out buck naked.

Izzy threw open the bedroom door and stalked into the living room. Grant’s mother was gone, thank the gods for that, but Saga and Rosetta stood in the center of the room. Izzy peeked around for Ricky, but didn’t see him either.

“And here she is! Miss Forked
Island
Whore 2010!” Rosetta announced with a wave of her hand at Izzy.

It was natural for her to reach out for her best friend with hands extended to wrap around her neck. She did it without even thinking and Rosetta looked up for the challenge, but neither of them accounted for Saga, who tugged Izzy to a stop much more gently than she normally would.

“Calm it, kid,” her mentor urged in a soft voice.

Rosetta and Izzy shared a confused glance.

“Why? I was just gonna strangle her a little.” Or a lot. The panic curling in her stomach hadn’t abated. In fact, it seemed stronger than ever.