Motley Crewed Shifters - Chapter 137: Chapter 137

But I can’t look away.
The foreskin hugs the thick, mushroomed head, just barely, and when I wrap my fingers around him, it moves with a silky glide that makes him suck in a breath.
When I touch him, he groans—low and deep and impossibly sexy—and I feel it like a current across my skin.
There’s strength in that sound but also surrender.
He is letting me lead.
Letting me learn him.
And gods, does he make it easy to want everything.
Power fills me. A strength I never knew I had. Even on my knees, I feel it.
It’s a womanly right if ever there was one, and I lean forward to wrap my lips around him for the first time.
Zeke’s thighs tense beneath my palms, and I feel the power in them—the restraint.
He is holding still for me, just barely.
I let my lips brush over him, slow and reverent, tasting the heat of his skin, feeling how sensitive he was as I tease along the ridge.
His hands fist by his sides, and the low, guttural sound he makes sends a thrill straight through me.
I take my time, learning what he likes, how he moves, how his body responds when I curl my tongue just right or suck gently.
Then I bob my head, taking him as deep as I can until he isn’t saying words anymore, just my name, whispering it over and over like a prayer.
“Casey. Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
I take his hand, putting it on the back of my head, holding it there as I continue to suck and moan around his dick.
“CASEY!” Zeke’s roar rattles the shower door. Literally.
It should have freaked me out, but I’m so lost to the sensation and taste of swallowing his release I barely notice.
I barely have time to breathe before he’s lifting me up and carrying me to bed.
We’re both dripping wet, but Zeke doesn’t care. He just sits with me on his lap and slams his lips to mine.
Then he lays down, pulling me with him until I realize what he’s about to do.
“I can’t! Zeke, I’ll crush you,” I say, half embarrassed, and the other half so turned on I know the moisture between my thighs has nothing to do with the shower and everything to do with him.
He laughs, that deep, possessive growl in his throat sending a shiver through me.
“Need to feel you come, Petals. On my tongue. Now be a good girl and sit on my face so I can fuck you proper,” he growls the words, sounding more beast than man.
There’s no teasing in his eyes now.
Just hunger and heat and something that looks very much like love.
So I let go.
I straddle him, trembling, heart pounding in my ears.
I’m helpless to do anything but obey. If this is what being mated to a Dragon means, then I am in.
Oh boy, am I in.
His growl pulses through me as I position myself with my thighs on either side of his head, then I lower my hips and groan as his big hands cup my ass, holding me in place.
And when he shows me just how deeply he means it—how much he really wants me with his lips, his tongue, and even his teeth—my entire body trembles and I fall even harder.
His tongue traces every inch of me like he’s memorizing the shape of my soul, and my entire world tilts.
Zeke’s growls and groans reverberate through me like thunder rolling through the hollow of my chest, echoing in places I didn’t even know existed.
I cry out, the sound torn from somewhere deep and sacred.
So much more than just pleasure.
It’s devotion.
It’s need.
It’s love.
My body arches, writhes, reaching for more even as I come apart in his hands, on his mouth, under the weight of his reverence.
My fingers knot in his damp hair, clinging like he’s the only thing tethering me to this plane—and maybe he is.
Because I can’t hold anything back.
Not my voice.
Not my heart.
Not even my soul.
Because they’re already his.
Everything I have, everything I am—it all belongs to him now. And I don’t want it back.
Zeke rises from beneath me with a look in his eyes that scorches me—raw, wild, and completely unguarded.
As if he’s seeing me, all of me, and choosing me again and again.
Then he flips us—fluid, effortless strength—and covers my body with his own.
The moment he presses inside me, slow and deep and infinitely right, my breath catches.
And then I hear it.
A voice, not Zeke’s exactly, but somehow still his.
Deeper. Older.
It vibrates in my bones, a rumble through my blood.
Es meus.
The words bloom like fire inside my skull.
You’re mine.
My whole body lights up with them, every nerve ending flaring like a meteor shower. It’s more than just sensation.
It’s claiming, branding, a binding of something soul-deep and eternal.
Zeke’s pace falters for a second, his eyes widening as he feels it, too.
The connection.
The magic.
The Dragon.
My hands cup his face, thumbs brushing his cheekbones as I whisper through a smile that feels far too big for my face, “You’re mine, too. All mine.”
He groans again—this one broken, reverent—and then we’re flying.
Not literally, but it feels like it.
Like our bodies are just along for the ride while something bigger than us—our bond, our fate—takes hold and soars.
When we finally come down from that place, panting, tangled, and trembling in each other’s arms, I realize something with a clarity that leaves me breathless.
This isn’t the end of something reckless.
It’s the beginning of everything.
And there is no place on earth I’d rather be.