Mated to the Warrior Beast

Jayah gave a small squeak of surprise, bracing on his stomach to find her balance… but she was straddling him.

He lay beneath her, his eyes hooded and hazed with desire, his hands now climbing her thighs, her sides, his thumbs brushing her already hard nipples.

Jayah smiled and arched into his touch—the movement taking her against him and over him so that they both hummed with pleasure. From here she could push back his shirt to lay her hands on the flat of his chest, following the lines of muscles down his sides…

He twitched when she played fingers along his ribs, then pulled her down into a kiss that brought her even harder against him.

This time when she sat up, he tugged her forward so that she was open over him. And once she’d found her balance, she braced on his chest and began to roll her hips, rubbing herself slowly against him. Both of them began to breathe more deeply, more desperately.

“You are beautiful, Jayah,” he whispered, combing her hair back from her face. With her hands on his chest, her breasts were pressed together and towards him. His eyes stroked from her nipples up to meet her eyes, then back down, again and again, his jaw going slightly slack when she let herself sink down harder over him.

Suddenly, he pulled her down, one hand behind her shoulder blades, the other at her hip, grabbing, holding her against him, pulling her up his torso slightly, but bending her forward into a kiss.

“Skhal, I—oh!”

.....

He’d lifted his head, curling himself to reach her nipples with his mouth, and her breath stopped at the twin-pleasures of his hardness against her, and his soft, hot mouth on her nipple.

Skhal hummed his approval as she let herself fall further forward so he could reach her more easily, bracing on the furs next to his head as she continued to rub on him.

They moved together silently for a time, Jayah’s pleasure rising, but she was unwilling to close her eyes, to lose that connection with him.

The tenderness on his face made her want to weep. But then shadows began to creep into his eyes and he turned his head like he would look away.

“No,” she whispered, catching his chin in one hand to make him keep facing her. “Don’t think about it. We have been blessed, Skhal. At least for this moment, at least for this hour, we are free and together and… we can’t know what’s going to happen, so just be here with me.”

He called to her then, deep and resonant, the vibration of it under her hand making her want him even more. Then, unhurried, he wrapped her in his arms until she was cocooned by him, her arms around his neck, his around her shoulders, and at her lower back, and he rolled her again, tilting his hips and taking her in a single thrust.

Jayah cried out with the sheer joy of it.

“My mate,” he whispered, kissing his way down her jaw, then thrusting into her again.

Her breath caught and her mouth dropped open.

“My beautiful mate,” he rasped, and did it again.

Jayah clung, tiny cries breaking in her throat that she couldn’t stop. Her mind screaming at her that they couldn’t take anything for granted, that they didn’t know the future—and so they had to make the most of this.

She was desperate for him.

So, as he rolled into her again, and again, groaning her name, her entire skin tingling with the pleasure of him, all she could do was cling to him, and call for him, over and over.

Then, as her pleasure began to rise, as she couldn’t resist closing her eyes and arching, tilting, seeking that elusive peak, Skhal growled his pleasure and slid his hand flat to her lower back, then pulled up in the same moment he thrust and her pleasure climbed sharply, closer to her peak with every roll of his hips.

And when she tightened on him, he sucked in a breath. His thrusts became insistent, demanding. He was close too.

“Jayah!” Skhal groaned. “I can’t—”

“Don’t stop!”

With a bellowing growl, he curled a hand to the back of her neck, the other still under her back, then arched his back and thrust again and again, so hard, his hips pumping against her so that their skins slapped. And just like that, something inside her broke open.

Jayah arched back, calling for him, every hair on her body rising with her impending release. Goosebumps washed from where they were joined, to every limb, every muscle tense and tingling.

And then it crashed over her and she cried out, her body arched and rigid as she rode wave after wave of pleasure, then slumped—Skhal following her seconds later, her breath fluttered into his hair as he buried his face in her neck and shattered right alongside her, his fingers clutching at her, his mouth on her neck.

“Jayah!”

“I love you, Skhal!” She clung to him as his entire body twitched and shook, and he moaned again, then collapsed.

Both of them were panting, their bodies still tensing and releasing in short bursts as the pleasure slowly faded.

Jayah smiled and sucked in a deep breath as Skhal’s weight finally came to rest fully on her, covering her in his love.

Neither of them spoke.

A few minutes later he rolled off of her, but when she complained, he shushed her and turned onto his side, rolling her as well, until he could pull her back into his chest. He slid one arm under her head, the other over her waist and curled his knees under hers, so she was completely wrapped in him.

Jayah sighed happily as he nuzzled her neck.

“I love you, Skhal,” she whispered, playing with the fingers of his hand that was extended under her head—the tendons on his forearm calling to the core of her.

Would she ever get enough of him? She doubted it.

“I love you too, beautiful,” he whispered, then kissed her hair.

And even though they hadn’t planned it, they both slept then, curled together in the safety of the cave.

*****

~ ELRETH ~

As they walked back into the Royal Cave together, Elreth felt… disconnected. The past few hours—this entire day was a blur.

She’d stood there in that valley, facing the bold and unapologetically determined Sasha as they found peace. At least… the beginning of it.

Maybe that was the problem. Zev had never shown up again after their hand clasp. Was it really peace if the male hadn’t given his dominance to it?

Elreth didn’t know. She still didn’t quite understand the dynamic between Sasha and Zev, but she also didn’t have time or mental energy in that moment to figure it out.

She’d gone through the necessary details after that by rote.

She’d asked Lerrin and Suhle to take leadership of the neutral ground because people from both sides looked eager to stay. They were hesitant, but curious. She asked the pair to stay and offer support or guidance for any conflicts.

She’d made the guards leave—her heart thundering as she gave the order.

She told Gar to go to his mate, but asked him to return in time for the feast the next day.

She’d searched for Harth and Tarkyn, but they’d both disappeared… to celebrate, she hoped.

She’d made arrangements with Sasha for an escort in the City, to find whatever she needed, but the woman was distracted—she wanted her son, and her mate. So Elreth had let her go with assurances that they could send messengers to the Royal Cave at any time for assistance.

The entire time Aaryn had stood silently at her side, always touching, his body trembling. With fear, or just tension? She wasn’t sure.

The fact that he’d been able to stand there, at least outwardly calmly, after being caged… she shook her head at his courage.

And seethed at his stupidity.

She couldn’t believe he’d done it.

But their agreement had been the same from the very early days of their mating: They would support each other in public, and argue, when it was needed, in private. And so, she bit back her anger—and the echoes of terror—about his awful decision to confront Zev alone, and continued issuing orders and discussing details with various alphas and leaders as they traveled back to the Tree City.

Her body was at war. A part of her wanted nothing more than to grab her mate by his scruff, run back to the cave and ignore the world while she devoured him to reassure herself that he was unharmed.

Another part of her wanted to take his throat herself.

And the last piece was just… broken.

This day had ended well, under the circumstances. But she did feel free. She didn’t feel relieved. And she feared that her body knew something she didn’t. That this wasn’t over, yet.