Falk Clan Tales - Chapter 81: Chapter 81

Devine was a total moron. He had to be. Why else would he have started a battle with his own brother for touching the chin of some stranger who meant nothing to him?
The rosebud marking on his chest burned with her touch. It tingled and moved, and she gasped as her fingertips ran across it. Every Dragon of their Clan carried a rose on his skin, symbolizing that mate bond each strived for.
It was a Dragon’s hope to find his mate, for without one, he would die. That was the sad reality of powerful, immortal beasts. Oh, dying would take long, a millennium perhaps, but Devine could not be sure about that.
He only knew this was a complete shock to his system. He had never expected to find his maiden and was determined to live his days trying to repay the Falks for the wrong he did them in hunting their brother.
But everything was different now. Sunny had claimed her Wolf knew he was her mate the second she had seen him. That had to mean something, right?
Fuck fuck fuck.
Devine knew what that meant, even if she didn’t. Fuck, he would ruin her. But there might still be time to stop this. To save her from binding herself to him any further. Devine was no good for a kind, outgoing person like Sunny. She ran her hands closer to the edge of his rose again, and he growled.
“Don’t touch me there. It hurts.”
Liar liar.
The Dragon’s mocking words made his growl worse, and the female currently cleaning the wounds his brother made across his skin flicked her molten gaze to his. She had deep, dark brown eyes that lightened to honey when her Wolf was peeking through, as the beast was now.
“You know, you are a loud thinker,” she remarked, her gentle touch soothing his still pissed off beast. “I admit, I’m a bit confused, Dev. For someone who is no one’s mate, you sure seemed a little jealous, overprotective to me.”
Devine grunted. There were no words to explain what had just happened. Fine, that wasn’t true. She had described it perfectly. He was jealous—of his own fucking brother. Shit. This was bad.
“I mean, he is your brother⁠—”
“He touched you. Nicholas had his hands on your skin and I, fuck—he should not have done that,” Devine growled, unable to stop the flow of words.
“What’s the difference, Dev. You don’t want me. You said it yourself, I’m not yours⁠—”
Thunder roared in his ears at her words, and Devine could not help himself. Anger and hurt poured from her and those harsh words describing his actions, his treatment of her rankled with his beast. They seemed to propel him into action faster than anything else could have.
One moment, Sunny was sitting on a chair applying gauze and ointment to his wounds, caring for him in a way no one ever had. The next, Devine had her wrapped in his arms, his mouth crushing hers under the force of his kiss.
Fucking hell. He was not slow or gentle or kind. He was brutal and hungry. Monster. But he could not slow down. Sunny tasted like heaven, and he was a Dragon starving for a bit of warmth. He expected her to hit him, or pull away, but she gave him no sign she wanted him to stop or slow down.
Thank fuck.
Devine could not do that if he’d tried. He was not there to savor. Devine was there to claim. This kiss was hard, angry, and demanding. But Sunny was no weakling to cow beneath him.
She was a Werewolf. And fuck, she was beautiful in her ready response and her submission to him. His female was a powerful being in her own right, and she gave as good as she got. Her lips were eager, her tongue tangled his in a duel worthy of the most stout-hearted warrior.
“Mine,” he snarled, opening his eyes, finally.
His stormy gaze raked over the beautiful, the messy-haired Wolf in his arms. Her pink bow of a mouth was bleeding where he’d been too rough, and he leaned forward, lapping the bruise, tending the hurt and begging her forgiveness with his actions instead of words. Her eyes went wide, and then she did something he was not prepared for.
Sunny smiled at him, and damn, the woman was radiant.
Fuck, but that reaction was stronger, deadlier, and more accurate than any arrow to his heart. The she-Wolf growled, melting into him with her plump breasts pressing firmly against his chest, the tight buds biting into him.
Fuck, he knew she was wearing next to nothing beneath the calf-length dress she wore. His beast scented her need, and he salivated just thinking about coming inside her sweet, tight, hot little slit.
Devine growled, wrapping her up closer. He lifted her clear off the floor, nodding his approval when she wrapped her legs around his waist kicking those awful gator shoes off her feet.
Her heated center pressed against the thick bar of his cock, and he groaned, hating the clothes between them. No. This was not a good idea, but Devine couldn’t stop it any more than he could turn the tide.
“Devine,” she moaned his name, egging him on further.
His cock was so fucking hard he could hammer nails with it, but that was nothing to what happened to him when she scratched her claws against his skin and called him mate. Her tongue snaked out to lap at his lips, begging entry. And who was he to deny it?
Still running on adrenaline from fighting his own brother, Devine took her face with one hand and stroked the tender skin there before moving to grip her by the back of her neck. His other hand moved beneath her dress, squeezing the firm globe of her ass, and grinding her against his cloth-covered cock.
He pulled her closer to him, kissing her deeply, thoroughly, leaving no inch untouched. Pure animalistic need drove him as he deepened their kiss. He wanted her so fucking bad, he would die to have her.
This strange attraction was addicting. Was this what was meant by Fated Mates then? He wondered, groaning as she squeezed her thighs and rubbed her sex against his cock. Sexy little she-Wolf felt so fucking good, his Dragon reared up.
Es meus.
Fuck, that was all the confirmation he needed. Cock throbbing, heart racing, and rose burning, Devine pressed Sunny up against the wall. If she wanted the Dragon, she was going to get him. No rose-colored version, either. He would confront her with the real beast and let her decide. Sunny moaned and pushed her pelvis into his, her eyes a blazing gold with the Wolf as he leaned back and tore the clothes from her body.
She was even more perfect in the nude. Her skin so soft, so place, luminous in the light filtering in from the window of his kitchenette. No, he did not take her back to the communal kitchen. He did not want her anywhere that Nicholas—or anyone, for that matter—had access to.
So warm, so responsive, nothing he did frightened or turned her off. His sexy little Wolf met him move for move, using her own clawed hands to shred the waistband of his pants as she opened her legs and took his cock inside her.
“Fuck,” he growled, giving her no time to adjust.
“Harder,” was her only reply as he started pounding into her.
They came together like an avalanche. His need, her desire, their pleasure slammed into him, into her, in relentless succession. And still, it wasn’t enough. Devine carried her to the bedroom, placing biting kisses along her neck and chest.
“Oh that feels so good,” she moaned as he slid down her body, taking one plump nipple into his mouth.
He sucked and squeezed, sliding two thick fingers into her pussy. So tight, so hot. He fucked her with his hand, loving the way she squeezed him.
“I’m gonna come,” she whimpered, arching her back against the sensual onslaught.
Devine growled against her breast as the first wave of her orgasm gripped his fingers, then he bit down, slicing through skin, and swallowing the coppery essence that was her life’s force. Sunny howled. Her climax ripping through her as he slid up her body and filled her with one hard thrust. Her pleasure clenched around him, squeezing his dick so fucking good he went cross-eyed.
Fuck fuck fuck.
He did not know what was happening to him. She was undoing everything he thought he’d built to survive with her breathy sighs, and her smoldering kisses, not to mention, her sweet, honeyed sex. The female was perfect in every way. A beautiful disaster that was made just for him. Fuck, he loved her frizzy, curly hair, those warm brown eyes that glowed gold with her Wolf. She had the perfect body, made for a Dragon.
Whatever he dished out, she could take it. She could take him. A small part of him held back, even as he relentlessly chased pleasure, his and hers. Pounding into her sex, Devine growled, returning to her mouth. Fuck, he just could not seem to get enough of those drugging kisses of hers.
Es meus, his Dragon grunted.
Then she struck, her mouth closed over his shoulder, fangs buried in his skin. His rose burned with the force of her claim, and his gaze found hers glowing gold with her Wolf. His pleasure exploded inside of her, coating her womb with his cum, marking her with bite, scent, and rose.
Her silky sheath tightened, closing around him like a vise, and fuck if he did not feel like this was exactly where he was supposed to be.
“Es Meus.”