If you like music while you read, try "Hallelujah" by FVR DRMS. It's what I was listening to while writing this scene!
*****
~ TARKYN ~
Tarkyn got lost in that kiss. Sucked down into it like a kitten into quicksand until the only world he was aware of was her.
The furs under them faded first, then the stone walls and ceiling overhead… the wide opening that brought in air and light and the rush of the river… the cliffs around them and the forest on the other bank—it all faded to nothing as Tarkyn devoured her soft lips and his entire being was consumed by her warm embrace, the way her curves cradled him, the soft prickle of her skin under his hands as if everything within her stretched to meet him.
He breathed her name and she whimpered as he rolled her onto her back and pinned her to the furs. Everything within him drove him forward, his beast roaring, demanding—to dominate, to possess. But he did not release the leash. He cautioned himself.
This was so new. So new. He couldn't move too quickly—so he sipped at her mouth and rested only half his weight on her, watching for her reaction. But as he slowly reached for the buttons of her soft shirt, letting his hand crawl up her side, then over her breast outside of her clothes, she gasped. Her breath thundered against his cheek and she arched her body, then reached down with both hands for her own leathers, scrambling, wiggling to get out of them.
Her undulations only heightened his rush, pressing them together, then pulling them apart. Tarkyn groaned and lifted himself up on elbows and toes, raising his hips to give her freedom—but his body was still so weak that he shook. Just seconds later he was worried he would collapse over her if she wasn't quick.
But Harth seemed desperate, finally shucking off her leathers and throwing them aside, her kiss hungry as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him against her. And as his hard slid against her soft, as her heat found the evidence of his desire, they both arched and moaned.
For a moment, Tarkyn was forced to break the kiss, dropping his forehead to her shoulder, shuddering, desperate to catch his breath. He hadn't even taken her, yet his entire body came alive with a swirling, fizzing heat that traveled his veins and threatened to end this all far too quickly if he didn't get himself under control.
"Tarkyn… please…" she breathed.
With shaking fingers, he popped the last of her buttons, letting the shirt fall aside and baring her to her nipples—hard and seeking, her breasts full and firm—rubbed against his chest.
Unable to resist, urging her with whispers to be patient, Tarkyn slid back to rest his weight on his knees, cupping the back of her thigh to keep her legs around his waist, but kissing his way down her chest to one of those coffee-colored peaks, opening his mouth over it and laving it with his tongue.
Harth made a strangled noise, her hips bucking so that his beast growled with approval.
"I… oh shit, that's… that feels amazing," she gasped. "Please, do that ag—oh!"
Opening wide, Tarkyn sucked hard, her nipple pressed to the roof of his mouth, and for a long moment, she didn't breathe at all.
Goosebumps danced down her side, the skin of her thigh pebbling under his hand, and he groaned with the joy of the Creator's gift of a female who clearly enjoyed his attentions.
It would be good between them. Very, very good.
A thought that only threatened to steal his control completely.
But even as his aching body yearned to tip him over the edge of pleasure, he forced himself to focus instead on her, kissing and licking, stroking, watching fascinated as her eyes fluttered closed, and her breath caught. He cataloged it all, learning what made her sigh, and what made her hips jerk, what made her eyes close, and when her breath stopped.
Then, just as he'd repeated his attentions on her other breast, Harth dropped her head back, sucking in a frantic breath, then gasped his name and arched, hips bumping, begging for him.
"Tarkyn, I…" she sucked in a breath as, with a growl, Tarkyn dropped his hips to pin her to the furs and kissed his way back up—her breasts, her collarbones, then, with shaking breaths, he opened his mouth on her bared throat.
He could not bite. He would not bite. Not yet, but oh, how he ached to claim her.
To his eternal delight, as his teeth threatened to break her skin, she rocked against him until the slide and press of their bodies became so urgent, she'd begun pulling him against her.
His body hummed, vibrating with the overwhelming sensation of yes, and right, and here!
She shook in his arms, her scent drenched in desire, and yet he caught the tiniest thread of fear, as well.
Bracing his elbows over her shoulders, cupping his hands over her hair, he lifted his head to find her eyes. His breath tore out of him in hoarse pants. Her eyes were hooded, but bright, her lips full and swollen with his kisses. She clawed her fingers into his hair which had come loose and fallen down to create curtains for them.
But as he rocked against her, sliding himself along her most sensitive skin, making promises he intended to keep, and her mouth opened, slackening in response, he locked eyes with her.
"I will make you mine, Harth," he rasped.
She nodded quickly. "Yes!"
"You do not need to fear me."
"I don't!"
He dipped his head to kiss her neck again, unable to resist letting his teeth graze the tendon of her neck, before he responded. "I can scent you, my mate. Your nerves. You don't have to hide it from me—"
"I'm not afraid of you! Only… nervous about the first time—aren't you? Don't worry, Tarkyn… you can tell me if I get it wrong, and I will tell you—"
Tarkyn's entire body went rigid and he froze.