SUNG
"Joyce," he pleaded. "Can I touch you?"
She shook her head, her lip pressed between her teeth, her eyes still following the lines of his chest and shoulders until he felt it like a finger on his skin.
"I want to touch you first," she whispered.
Sung had to close his eyes briefly, or he would do something stupid. He dropped his head and tried to count to ten, reminding himself that she was new to this and he should not push. Then he sucked in hard because she began to circle him, her fingers starting at his navel, trailing along the side of his stomach, then around. She walked slowly around him, letting her touch drift across his body. She traced the lines of his back and pressed a soft kiss to the centre of his spine, between his shoulder blades. He groaned again and clenched his hands so tightly that his nails threatened to cut his palms.
She swallowed again when she walked a complete circle around him, and her eyes were alight with lust.
"Show me your throat, Sung," she whispered.
Sung's eyes rolled back, and a growl rolled in his throat as he dropped his head back, drunk with desire for her. He trembled from head to toe when she pressed against him and laid her mouth on his throat. He huffed when her fingers started from his chin and slowly moved over adam's apple to the V between his collarbones, and her breathing sped up.
"I will never use this against you," she said against his skin, then flicked her tongue out to lick his neck. Sung's hands twitched towards her. "I will never hurt you with it or let anyone else have it. I want you to know that."
Then her mouth was gone from his skin, but the rest of her remained. Sung still had his head dropped back, his breath tearing in and out of his throat.
Then she whispered. "Now you can touch me."
Sung sucked in and raised his head, opening his eyes. When he saw her, her arms tight around him, her breasts pressed against his stomach, and her back arched, so her head laid so far back that her throat was the highest point offered to him, he roared.
SUNG
The temptation to simply take her, quick and rough, right there, was overwhelming. He dove for her throat with lips, teeth, and tongue, and she pulled him in, her hands sliding everywhere she could reach. In his mind, he would have had her on the floor or against the wall and yanked that dress up and…
He shivered and made himself slow down. If he rushed this, he would regret it, he knew. She was playful tonight, gaining confidence. He had no doubt she would give in to a quick tumble, but he wanted more than frantic pawing.
He wanted to make love to her. With sheer will, he nipped her neck again and then pulled back.
She blinked her eyes open and pulled her head up to look at him, her eyes glazed with lust. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"Nothing at all," he rumbled, his voice so deep it came from his toes. He brought a hand up to stroke her hair and down her back. "I just want to… take my time," he said, letting the heat he felt shine in his gaze.
Her lips pulled up into a smile. "That sounds like fun."
"If this is mere fun, you tell me, because I need to up my game," he growled, then took her mouth when she started to laugh. She was not laughing for long.
He cupped her jaw and tilted her head, taking her mouth, plunging and teasing with his tongue in a parody of what he wanted to be doing. Then, as she arched into his kiss, he let his hands slide down her body on top of that sweet dress, teasing and squeezing, enjoying each dip and valley until he made it to her thighs. Her breath got faster and louder, and it was music to his ears.
"I like you in a dress," he whispered as he slowly gripped the material, bunching it into his hands to draw it up and bare her skin inch by glorious inch.
"I love it too; I was so… excited -" she swallowed convulsively when he nuzzled under her ear, "when the ladies found it for me… oh!"
He finally found the hem of the skirt and drew it up until he had access to her skin. Letting one side go, he said his hand down the back of her thigh and felt her goosebumps under his touch.
"It is as if all of you rise to meet me." he groaned. "I love the way you respond to me," he said, hoarse with love and desire.
"Everything in me, Sung," she breathed. "Everything."
Then, slowly, he changed direction, drawing his hand back up the inside of her thigh. It was a delightful shock when, instead of discovering the soft barrier of underclothes, his fingers found her heat, found her ready and eager for him. She sucked in as he groaned her name.
"It is a good thing you did not tell me you were completely bare under that dress, Joyce," he rasped into her mouth. "I would have scandalised the entire city, taking you there on the dancefloor."
"Next time," she gasped. "I will tell you… but I would not… let you… do anything about it until… we are home…."
He huffed the mating call, and she left her head drop back, eyes closed as he palmed her, letting his fingers slide into her gently at first, though she trembled with it. But then gave himself leave to press and slide until she started to twitch and brought a hand up to brace on his shoulder.
"So, fucking beautiful," he rasped, "Creator's light, I love you, Joyce."
Before she could respond, he took her mouth that had dropped open as she leaned further back, searching for contact with him in that perfect spot. She whimpered and grabbed for him, but he smiled and denied her. He revelled in the flush of her cheeks and the rush of her panting breath, the way she went tense and still the closer he got to that bundle of nerves that promised her bliss.
Seeing her there, bare and ready, aching and seeking him, his body reached for her, yearning for release. He gritted his teeth against the urge to lift her onto himself and take her right there.
As her breath shortened and she started to hold it with each slide, he groaned and pulled his hand up to cup her naked ass. She whimpered her disappointment, but he was already walking her back towards the wall until he could press her into it, balance her weight, pull up her skirt, and clasp one of her legs behind the knee to lift it and slide himself against her softness.
She cried out as a guttural groan tore out of his throat, and for a moment, he could not even think. His entire life existed only in that delicious, tingling slide where they were connected. Her mouth was a round O, and as he rolled his hips, he took her lips, showing her with his tongue everything he would do to her, everything he wanted. Then he kissed down her throat, letting his teeth drag against the column of her neck, and she shivered, clinging to his shoulders, her cries becoming frantic.
"Please… Sung…" she begged shamelessly. "Please…"
"Soon, my love, soon," he croaked, then kissed her. Rolling against her relentlessly, refusing to let her increase the pace.
But then, she shuddered, and he realised she was already close, and the thought unravelled his control. He had to stop or risk ruining it all by exploding all over her before he even took her. He froze, and she went still, both of them panting. She combed her fingers through his hair, clawing into his scalp in a stroke that should have been nothing next to where else they touched, but it felt glorious and sent shivers down his spine.
He opened his eyes and found her staring at him, both still panting.
"Please, Sung," she said, a desperate edge in her voice. "I want you inside me."
***
JOYCE
Sung had one arm under her knees, the other behind her shoulders; he swept her off her feet and into his chest, his breath heaving.
"There," he said, nodding at a sideboard in an alcove as they walked past. "And there," he huffed towards the bench seat before the fire. "Also, there and maybe on the counter, too," he said as they passed the dining table.
"What are you doing?" she giggled as he buried his nose in her neck and inhaled deeply like she was some kind of perfume.
"I told you, we have to make a list of all the places I am going to mate you," he growled.
Joyce laughed, but her stomach trilled, pulling him closer, her breath speeding up as he kissed and sucked at her neck. It gave her goosebumps every time. She felt she understood why he had seemed so obsessed with her neck and was glad. He carried her through the long cave and back to the bedroom, not bothering with the door since he had locked the only entrance. But instead of immediately jumping on her, as she had assumed, he walked around the room, blowing out lanterns.
With only two left when she said. "Don't blow out all of them," he stopped, turning to her with a wicked smile.
"You want some light, Joyce?" She blushed but nodded. "What the lady wants, the lady gets," he purred and started stalking her across the room. The roll of his shoulders and hips was much like the predator that ran through his blood, making it hard for her to breathe as she waited for him to reach her.
Already stark naked, he was utterly unashamed. She enjoyed seeing him in the dim light, where the shadows were more profound and rippled between his muscles. As he approached, she licked her lips in nervous anticipation, but he stopped just out of reach, his eyes dark. She tore her gaze off his chest and met them.
"What is wrong?"
"It is my turn," he purred.
Joyce blushed but smiled. "Your turn for what?" she asked and made herself stop gripping her skirts, raise her chin and put her shoulders back, and not shrink from what she knew he would ask. He took the last two steps to get close to her, and trailed a finger up her arm, her shoulder, then along to the neck of the dress. The embroidery around the neck and shoulders was beautiful but even more dramatic, with the drawstring in the neckline that gathered it up. Sung's finger trailed along the edge of it, to the front, just above and between her breasts, where it tied, leaving a small peephole at her cleavage.
"Untie it," he said hoarsely, his eyes never leaving her skin.
Joyce raised trembling fingers to the tie and pulled the ends until it fell away, leaving a V that dipped between her breasts. But the linen held, and a shadow passed over Sung's eyes when the dress did not shift. She reached for the neckline, intending to pull it further down for him, but he stopped her, his hands gently circling her wrists.
"No," he croaked. "Let me."
Joyce dropped her hands and watched his face as he gazed at her. His breathing was shallow and quick as he trailed his fingers from the shoulders along the dress's neckline, then pulled slowly apart until the dress pulled along the tie and fell under his hands. He pushed it back with gentle movements, barely touching her skin until it rested off both shoulders, barely clinging to the tops of her breasts, the heavy embroidery weighing it down until it threatened to slide off completely.
Sung swallowed, and Joyce stifled a breathless laugh at the pleading hunger on his face.
"So beautiful," he whispered. "Your skin is so white and so soft."
He leaned down to kiss her collarbone, open-mouthed, humming his approval on her skin. Joyce's eyes slid closed. But when she reached for him, he straightened again with a wicked gleam in his eye.
Without a word, he tilted his head and, with two fingers, caught the dress where it had fallen off her shoulder and tugged it slowly down on that side until one breast slid free and made a noise in his throat. Their eyes caught, and Joyce breathed, waiting to see what he would do.
"Do you want -" he started, but she interrupted him.
"I want whatever you want," she said with a breath.
Eyes dark, Sung knelt in front of her, his massive shoulders rolled forward as his hands took her ribs, and he dropped his mouth to the peak of her breast, sucking hard enough to send electric jolts to the apex of her thighs.
"Sung!" she gasped, grabbing his shoulders to steady herself but unable to resist leaning back to give him better access.
He pulled her close and held her with one hand splayed between her shoulder blades but stayed on one knee, his mouth worshipping her breast. In contrast, his other hand began to bunch the skirt around her knee, then her thigh, and then his hand was on her skin underneath the dress. He dragged his fingers slowly up her inner thigh, leaving trails of sensation like fireworks on her skin. His fingers dipped into her softest places, and Joyce shifted on her feet to help him find that delicious slide, whimpering when he did as the jolts from his mouth crackled through her to meet the jolts from his talented fingers.
"Joyce," he breathed against her skin.
She was grasping his shoulders because her knees felt weak. She felt too self-conscious to find the words but too heated to deny the desire. She tugged the other side of the dress down her arm until both breasts were free, then gasped when he took the invitation, growling in his throat when she dropped her head back and leaned into his arm. Her entire body hummed like a tuning fork as his mouth sucked; his teeth grazed perfectly with the slide and plunge of his fingers. She could feel the glittering was beginning to build, which was beautiful. But she was hollow. She needed him inside her. Needed to move together with him.
"Sung," she gasped.
He came off her breast with a faint pop. "Yes, my love?" he huffed.
Joyce groaned in her throat because he did not stop touching her with those bold, strong fingers despite lifting his head to look at her. A shiver ran through her, and her skin pebbled from her neck to her knees.
"I want you," she said, her voice keener than intended.
"You will have me, love," he whispered, kissing her breast, open-mouthed again. "You will always have me."
SUNG
Sung groaned on her nipple, and she gasped again. Her breath came in short bursts that she held at the peak of each slide of his fingers, her hips beginning to undulate in time. He could tell she meant to say no, push him off, and let them join, but each new crest of the wave and jolt to her new core just sent her gasping to the next. His breath rushed against the skin of her stomach as he shuddered and dropped his forehead to her chest.
One of her knees wobbled, and she grabbed at his shoulders. "Sung, I -"
"I have you, Joyce; relax. Let go; I have you."
With a shiver, she leaned back into his hand, lifting one leg to hook around his waist, her voice breaking at each press. Sung pleaded with the creator to guide him; she was almost there… almost there.
Then Sung sucked her nipple into his mouth hard. She arched her back, eyes wide, unbreathing, as goosebumps washed over his skin in a wave. Then she cried his name, shaking and jerking, her knee giving out completely, but he caught her and swung her up against his chest, the mating call groaning from his throat as he lifted her and carried her to the sleeping platform behind her.
He did not give her time to come down from the rush; as her climax edged away and her breath sucked in, he lowered her to the furs, took himself in hand, and pushed in, roaring her name as his entire being came alive.
"Sung!" she cried, tightening around him in a second wave that left her gasping, panting, and threatening to steal his control completely. She clapped a hand to his neck, rolling her hips against him, mouth open, her voice keen. Sung gritted his teeth and rode out her climax until she could focus. "You are… that was…" she still panted as Sung took her mouth and invaded with his tongue in the same rhythm he rolled into her, and they both lost themselves to each other.
Hands stroked, tongues licked, teeth grazed; she clung to him and pulled him in, whimpering. He held her close and pressed deep, moaning her name, unable to think beyond the need to drive deeper, to possess her. She had curled her legs around his hips at some point, and without thought for her relative inexperience, he hooked one of them forward, pressing her knee back almost to her chest, then rolling into her again. They both cried out, their heads dropping as the contact changed; Sung swore as a great shudder rocked through him. He fought not to let it end, but Joyce cupped his neck and pulled him down into a storm of kisses, and when she sucked on his tongue, the climax hit him at the base of his spine, and he bellowed it into her mouth.
His hips still pounding, but the rhythm was broken and disjointed, so he gasped her name.
"Joyce, my Joyce- love," she arched under him, her hands in his hair until they finally slumped. Sung panted into her neck, gasping, holding her to him as he tried to remember his name. She shivered and clung, panting too, blinking away her delighted shock. "Holy -" he cut himself off, swearing. "Joyce, are you right?" He was horrified that he had lost himself, not considering taking it slowly for her.
But she snorted into his chest and kissed the space under his ear before she answered.
"Sung, I don't think I have ever been better," she said in a voice heavy with satisfied weariness.
Trying not to be smug, Sung shifted his weight onto one elbow to lean over and see her face. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her hair flew wildly around her face like a golden halo. But she raised a hand to his face and beamed at him, nibbling at his chin when he did not kiss her immediately.
"If you promise to do that to me every day, I might never leave this cave," she said, combing her fingers through his hair.
Sung's smug smile grew, and he traced that line he was fascinated with that followed her throat down to her collarbones, her pulse throbbing under his finger.
"Joyce, if I do not get to do that to you daily, I may hand my balls to the Women's Council and tell them to turn them into a purse."
Joyce snorted, clenching around him in her laughter, in a way that made Sung groan again. Joyce looked at him in wonder. "Did you feel that?"
"Yes, my love," he gasped. "I felt that. A lot."
"Our bodies are amazing, aren't they?" she said, stroking his chest, her cheeks pink again in the low light.
He kissed her softly and said against her lips. "Yours is, anyway."
***
JOYCE
They talked, laughed and kissed, and Joyce hoped he would soon be ready to love her again. But at some point, she dozed off.
When she woke, the room was midnight dark. She lay on her side, her back curled into Sung's chest, his lips in her hair, his arm over her waist, their fingers linked together. He had wrapped himself around her, his body, his warmth hugging her from her shoulders to her knees. He sighed, guessing that she was awake. Joyce made to roll over to face him. But he stopped her, kissing her shoulder once, then twice.
"Are you well, wife?"
"I am very, very well," she said, leaning back into him and stretching. Sore muscles ached, but she had gained so deliciously that she did not care.
When she relaxed, her arm was back to trail her fingers in his hair, and his lips were at her neck. His hand found her breast, and his breathing quickened. Joyce hummed happily and arched, nudging him with her backside where she could feel him coming alive.
He hissed. "She-wolf," he growled, and she laughed but did it again.
He took her hip in his hand to stop her moving, but as he kissed her neck and whispered what he wanted to do, that fire that had banked low in her belly crackled to life again.
***
SUNG
He had laid in bed, holding her, for almost an hour. She had cracked him open like an egg, and even though he wanted it- wanted her- the sheer power of the feelings was overwhelming. He was shocked by the waves of emotion rolling through him, love, possessiveness, protectiveness, fear, delight… Emotions whipped around each other, a storm of chaos in his heart as he had never experienced.
She was suddenly everything. He had never imagined a moment when the balance of his decisions would weigh anywhere else except for his people and kingdom. But staring at her as she slept, Sung knew… he knew…
He would let all of them die to save her. And the creator forgive him; he knew how wrong that was.
Once she had drifted off to sleep, he had been unable to resist curling his body around her, like a mother with a cub, shielding and warming her with his body. He held her, and as she slept and he prayed.
Keep her safe.
Let the people see her.
Keep the wolves at bay…
His mind kept returning to the declarations she had made and the people she had chosen, the ways it would shock or displease the elders… and he kept shaking the thoughts off and pushing them away.
She was human, not Anima. Of course, she had done things differently. He prayed more.
Show me how to teach her.
Show me how to teach them to value what she brings…
Then his mind drifted away from power and the throne, even from his people. That image flashed in his mind again, that vision he'd had of her, heavy with child, leading another by the hand, her cheeks full, smile flashing… An ache started in his chest and rolled out of his throat in a sound he had never made before, a call he did not understand. But it spoke to his heart as he clung to her, pleading for her.
Then she sighed and stretched, utterly unaware of his remarkable experience. She rubbed her bottom against him, where he was already ready for her. She had one hand back, her fingers in his hair, as he stroked her hair back so he could nuzzle and kiss her neck. Then, when she bumped him, he cursed quietly and held her at the hip so she could not move. If she did not stop, she would push him over the edge. Losing control was the last thing he wanted right now when everything was becoming so clear.
"Are you hurting?" he whispered.
"Not too much," she rasped, her voice rough from the sleep. "Not enough to stop."
He could hear the smile in her voice.
"Mmmmmm… do you want to try something?" he purred.
"I told you, Sung, the answer is always yes."
A growl of pleasure puttered in his throat as he curled the arm under her head until his fingers found her breast, then slid the other down and back to find her ready for him. She stiffened at first, but with his lips still on her neck, he slid one finger, then two, inside her, pressing and curling until her mouth dropped open and she arched into his touch.
"There are so many ways to love, Joyce," he breathed in her ear as he touched and stroked, and she began to loosen under his hands. "We have a lifetime to find them all. But… there is one practice… unique to pride. We call it the claiming."
"What…" she swallowed. "What is it?"
"Surrender," he breathed, flicking at her nipple just as he pressed in with his other hand. Her breath caught, and her fingers tightened in his hair. "I would make my plea to you, show you my wish, and you choose, Joyce. The choice is always yours. But if you say yes, it will leave you marked forever. Any male that sees the mark… he will know, and the Leonine, they -"
"I want it, Sung," she breathed. "I want to belong to you. I want people to know it."
That strange noise rolled out of his throat again. He vibrated with need, shook with the urge to plunge into her then and there, but she had to make a choice. The claiming could not be forced.
But she was arching back, had brought both arms up, reaching back for him. He only touched and stroked for a moment for her pleasure, and then he forced himself to pull his hand back to her hip to stop kneading her breast. Her breath was short and fast. She made a little noise of frustration and turned her head.
"What -"
"It has to be your choice, Joyce," he rasped. "I do not want to seduce you into it."
She rolled over in his arms; her eyes were wide and earnest. "Tell me, and I will be honest with you."
Sung swallowed hard. "I would never hurt you, Joyce. Never want to hurt you. But you would bleed, and you would be scared. Claiming is an ancient tradition rooted in our animal blood. And you would have to give yourself up," he held her gaze, and she did not flinch. "You would be at my mercy completely. If I give over to it… I would take you. That is why you have to choose. You are my mate, my wife; I love you. I will not take you against your will."
"Will it hurt?"
"Mostly, no. Mostly it is an intense pleasure," he said, breathing and tracing a hand down her spine. "It is my role to ensure that… that when you surrender, it is to your benefit. But at the end, when I mark you… there would be a pain," he frowned, thinking of it.
She stared into his eyes, and then she said, without blinking. "I have trusted you since I was six years old, Sung. I know you would never enjoy hurting me," Sung closed his eyes and pulled her into his chest. "Tell me what to do," she whispered, and he huffed, unable to resist kissing her, deep and slow.
"Nothing," he breathed against her lips, then retook them. "You do nothing but surrender."
"Too late," she whispered back and kissed him.
JOYCE
It started like their previous love-making, and Joyce was unaware of anything different for a few minutes. She got lost in kissing him, pressing into his touch, and feeling him quiver under her hand. But she could feel the tension in him, the vibration in his chest and muscles, hear the call humming in his blood, and she wondered what this would be, whether she would like it, and why she felt… excited.
Then he rolled her onto her back and leaned over her. Joyce blinked her eyes open for a moment, and she gasped. His eyes… his eyes were glowing again, but this time with a warm light. He focused on her with an intensity that stole her breath. As he stroked down her side, watching his hand on her skin, his touch was electric, as if whatever power within him brought that light from his eyes was also in his skin, fingertips, and lips.
"I love you, Joyce," his voice was like gravel tumbling over rocks. His fingertips on her face and neck made her shiver.
"I love you, too," she whispered back.
"Give over to me, love," he said in that low voice.
"Take what you want, Sung."
"Creator's light, I do not deserve you, woman," he groaned.
Joyce was about to argue, but with a low growl, he reared over her, positioning himself between her knees and dropping his face to her stomach. Shocked but delighted, she clung to him as he kissed and sucked his way up. His hair sliding along her skin was an erotic tingle that pushed her head back and made her pant. Latching onto the peak of one breast, his hands stroked and slid all over her until she undulated beneath him like her skin was water. He raised his head, his glowing eyes following his path as he drew his fingers down her arm to her hand and lifted it, then the other, and pulled both her wrists into one of his hands to pin them on top of the furs over her head. His arm made a rippled steel bar between them that she wanted to lick.
Sung stared down at her then and growled his pleasure. She was arched back, her breasts forced towards him, and one knee bent up. Stroking her thighs, and sliding his fingers into her again, another low growl rolled through the room, and his eyes glowed brighter. Joyce gasped as the electric slide of his touch made her stiffen in the best way. She let her head fall back, baring her throat and whispering his name, telling him how wonderful his touch felt. His mouth went slack as he stared at her and moaned so low it was almost below hearing, resonating in his chest.
"I will never hurt you, Joyce. You are safe with me," he crooned.
"I know," she whispered back.
She was shivering with anticipation and keeping her hands pinned; he lay over her, covering her, pressing her into the furs as he slowly rolled his hips into her, beginning that delicious slide between them.
Unable to move anything but her body, Joyce arched to meet him each time, her breath coming in gasps. His arms braced, his muscles stood proud, and his shoulders made a wall over her; he threw his head back and called her at the peak of each slide. That huff twitched in her stomach, reaching for and increasing the shivering jolt he wrung out of her. Joyce could not hear herself over him but knew she was calling back, her voice breaking in her throat at each roll of his hips.
The shimmering promise of an orgasm grew deep within her, even though he had not entered her yet. But she did not want it to end this way again. She wanted him inside her. So, she started to brace and tried to escape the seductive call to tip over the edge. He dropped his chin and pressed harder into her until she cried joyfully.
"Give over, Joyce," he moaned. "Surrender, let me take you… please…"
"Yes," she gasped. "Yes."
With a tormented groan, he breathed something she did not catch, then kissed her. Shifting his weight, he entered her with a thrust that almost overtook her. She cried his name, gasping and writhing. But she did not fight him, didn't resist, just let herself be invaded, be stroked, and kissed, and gave herself over to the pleasure of it. Somehow, he kept bringing her to that brink, then letting her slide away until she was desperate and pleading with him.
Then his breath began to hiss, and she felt his stomach clench against hers.
"Roll over," he snarled, pulling out of her and letting go of her hands in one movement.
He reared back, kneeling between her knees and staring at her with hot, demanding eyes in the dark. The loss of sensation was confusing, and it took her a moment to realise what he wanted. But she rolled over, getting on all fours, her breath coming faster.
"Like this?"
He growled his approval and first took her chin and turned her head, leaning over her back to kiss her, his tongue sliding against her, rough and demanding. She sucked in a breath and arched her back so her shoulders brushed his chest and sighed. Shuddering, he pressed her down, a hand, gentle but firm, between her shoulder blades until she was on her elbows. Then he straightened behind her, took her hips, and rubbed against her first, his breath hissing between his teeth.
"Hold your breath, Joyce," he gravelled. "Don't breathe."
She sucked in and held, and he stroked her twice more before taking himself in hand and guiding himself into her in a long, slow slide with her quivering mouth open in a silent scream. He called out, his voice changed, half-roar, half-moan, ending in a huff that tightened her stomach.
But he did not wait, did not slow, just grasped her hips, pulling almost the entire way out of her, then plunging back in.
***