“Outside?” She balked. Sex was for their sturdy bed, the couch, the shower, and sometimes the kitchen counters. Not outside. “Why in the world would we do that?”
She liked nature more than any other elf she knew, certainly, but Camille still had a brain in her head. There was nothing sexy about dirt, bugs, and having to pee behind bushes.
Viktor tangled his fingers in her hair and slowly tilted her head back. Looking down at her with dark eyes, he rasped, “Because I want to see my mate wild and free in the world. I want to know what it’s like to hear her scream my name and hear it echo off of a fucking mountain.” He dipped his head to skim his lips against hers. “I want to know how it feels to lay you down in the leaves and fuck you raw; to see the sun shine on your body as I lick your cunt.”
Camille’s breath hitched. Bugs aside, that didn’t sound too bad at all.
“Vik…” She trailed her hand down his bare chest to rest her fingertips on the waistband of his sweatpants. He rarely wore more than that when they were home. Her coyote preferred to walk around in his skin.
It was jarring at first to see so many of his packmates wandering around in so little, if anything at all, but in the brief time she lived among them, she’d begun to acclimate. It made sense, after all. Shifting at will meant clothing had to be optional.
Besides, she liked being treated to the sight of her bite on his neck. The silvery scar told everyone that he belonged to her, just as the much larger bite on her shoulder proclaimed to all the world exactly who she belonged to.
Viktor used his free hand to cup her between her thighs. Her breath quickened as the heel of his palm slowly ground down against her. “Yes, sweetheart? Does that sound like a good plan to you?”
She made a soft sound in the back of her throat. Her eyes fluttered closed as she spread her thighs for him, demanding more.
He let out a husky laugh. “Yeah, I thought so. I think you’ll like being fucked outside, sweetheart. I think you’ll really like it.”
Camille bit her lip and wiggled her fingers past his waistband. Her searching met hard, hot flesh that beat with his quick pulse. “Anywhere,” she breathed, freeing him from his clothing. “Don’t care where. I’ll always like it.”
Viktor hissed when she gave the head of his cock a small, proprietary squeeze. “As long as you bring this, I’m game.”
He smiled against her cheek. “Well, I can’t exactly leave it at home, can I?”
Her laugh was watery, but when he kissed her, she let him sweep away her fear in a wave of desire.
Viktor broke their kiss to peel off her shirt. When they were home, she generally forwent a bra, so his seeking mouth met the soft skin of her breast as soon as it hit the floor. Bending her slightly over his forearm, he trailed his lips over her shoulder to kiss her bite before moving them back down, over the rise of her clavicle, to gently bite the swell of her breast.
Camille’s fingers flexed on his cock as a streak of pleasure ran through every nerve. Gods, she loved it when he bit her.
With his free hand, Viktor continued his torturous pressure against her aching center. The steady grind of his palm stood in stark contrast to his sharp nips to her breasts. His tongue chased away the sting, but not for long. Soon, her breasts were peppered with dark purple marks, her nipples hard and aching, while she was a wet, panting mess in his arms.
Squeezing him impatiently, half-retribution for the exquisite torture and half-desperation, she gasped, “Vik, you’re driving me insane.”
“Mm, that’s the point, sweetheart,” he breathed. “I want you crazy for me. I want you wild when you ride me.”
He closed his teeth around her nipple and carefully rolled the sensitive flesh between his teeth. When the pressure bordered on pain, he sealed his lips over it instead, alternating between sucking and biting until she couldn’t tell up from down any longer.
Camille made a strangled sound. The ache between her legs was becoming more and more painful by the moment, and his slowly rubbing palm was only making it worse.
Releasing his flushed cock, she placed her palm in the center of his chest and pushed.
Her dark nipple popped free from his lips as he fell back onto the mattress. Gold eyes stared up at her with a keen, hungry look. His cock, hard and wet at the flushed tip, pressed against his stomach under the tension of his elastic waistband.
Reaching for her with semi-shifted claws, he snatched her by the hips and dragged her over him. Those claws made quick work of her thin, comfortable leggings. “I love it when you get bossy with me. Makes me want to bite you even more,” he breathed. “I love it almost as much as I love watching you ride me.”
Camille shimmied his sweatpants down his hips with jerky, impatient movements, freeing him completely. Bracing one hand on his tense lower abdomen, she quickly positioned him against her and lowered herself down.
They both let out a hiss as he slid home. There was always a slight stretch, a tantalizing burn, and then the sense of fullness that never, ever got old. They were a perfect fit, and Camille loved it when he was inside her, filling her with everything he had.
She flexed her fingers on his stomach and leaned back, savoring the feeling. Her muscles fluttered around him. Pleasure bubbled in her veins. Liquid heat and deep, delicious pressure made her want to stay there, locked together, until the whole world faded into nothing.
Viktor’s warm palms smoothed over her thighs and up over her hips. Digging his fingers into the soft flesh there, he commanded, “Start moving, sweetheart. I want to watch.”
Oh, she wanted to bite him when he told her what to do. Not because she hated it, but because she loved it.
Camille flattened her palms against his stomach and tilted her head forward to watch him as she began to move. Friction sent shocks of pleasure through her, quickening her breath, but the feeling was greatly enhanced by the look on his face.
The muscles of Viktors neck and shoulders bunched as he strained underneath her rolling hips. His cheeks flushed and his lips, swollen and shiny, parted. His eyes were coyote gold and locked on where their bodies came together.
“So fucking pretty,” he muttered, half to himself, as he used his grip to urge her to move faster, to take him deeper. When he canted his hips up at a steep angle, Camille dug her blunted claws into his stomach and cried out, “Vik, gods, that’s too much!”
“Take it,” he demanded, doing it again. “Be good for me, Cam. I want to see you make yourself come while you ride me. I want it to wreck you.”
At this rate, she didn’t think there was any other option.
Camille increased her pace, chasing the bright, hot orgasm that built and built and built. Beneath her, Viktor panted hard and snapped his hips up to meet her. The pleasure bordered on agony when he snatched up one of her hands and pressed it to where they were joined and grated, “Touch yourself.”
Her fingers slid against her slick skin, pressing hard against her clitoris as she tried to keep the pace he set, the one they both needed. It was brutal, almost desperate, as they fought to hold off the world for a little longer.
It was too much. Camille lost the rhythm and fell forward on one hand, her other still stroking, circling. Their faces inches apart, Viktor lifted his head enough to snarl against her mouth as he took over completely. His hips jackknifed off of the bed with a bruising beat. Each stroke knocked the wind out of her, threatened to break her apart, until at last she came with a ragged whimper.