Bethany's Rite by Eve Jameson Read Free Book Online Page B

pulsing over every nerve ending until she was screaming his name.
Lost in a place beyond reality, existing only as an explosion of pure
sensation, rocketing past colors, smells and sounds. Where the only truth was
Wyc turning her inside out with the universe.

Chapter Four
     
    Wyc slammed furiously into Bethany as she screamed his name.
She bucked and writhed against him. Her thighs squeezed his hips and her
fingers dug into his arms. He was helpless to stop the low, feral sound that
burst from him as her cunt gripped his cock in greedy, clutching spasms.
    With another hard thrust, he felt himself breaking over her
emotions like a relentless, inexorable flood. He surged through her. Filled
every corner of her mind and heart. Claimed them. Marked them as surely as he
was about to mark her body by filling her with his seed.
    Her soul seized his, inundating him in the sensations of her
climax as the storm of release swept through her.
    Wyc’s world burst into flames. Never before had a woman been
able to weaken the hold he kept on his control. Made him slip in his ability to
impose his will over his actions and responses. But Bethany didn’t just loosen
his grip on his legendary self-control, she ripped it clean away as if it had
never been.
    Suddenly it didn’t matter that this was her first time, that
she was so incredibly tight and would be sore as hell by the time they
finished. That all this was new to her. That she knew nothing of matching
rituals, soul bonding or the claiming rites of Ilyrian males to their mates.
None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was pounding into Bethany’s
hot, wet cunt until he exploded into paradise with her.
    With her body quaking around his in orgasm, Wyc felt the
hard pull at the base of his cock, the final swift rush toward ecstasy. He drew
back just enough to see Bethany’s pussy stretched taut around him. To see his
cock ram inside his mate one last time before succumbing to a pleasure so
fierce and blinding, so intense and demanding, he could do nothing but grind
into her cunt, throw his head back and roar.
* * * * *
    Wyc had no idea how long he held her—arms locked under her
butt, forehead pressed against her front door—trying to stop sucking in great
gulps of air. Hoping like hell his body, unlike his soul, wasn’t trembling
around her, shaking like he was standing in the middle of a damn earthquake.
    Bethany’s arms and legs fell limply from around him and her
head lolled against his shoulder. The way she was laying against him, she would
drop to the floor like a bag of wet sand if he let go of her. With a groan, he
leaned back, shifted one arm around her for better support and forced his legs
to move.
    A glance around the small apartment revealed a tiny blue-
and white-tiled kitchen off to the right and a cramped living area to the left
with a yellow flowered loveseat as its only seating. A sixteen-inch TV on a
plastic stand was pushed to the far wall. Evidently, she didn’t spend much time
watching it since stacks of paperback books leaned against its sides, front and
so high on its top they looked ready to topple any moment.
    Straight ahead, on the back wall between the kitchen and
living room, he found what he was looking for. A door stood halfway open, and
just beyond it, an unmade bed with at least half a dozen pillows tossed across
it. Big, fluffy pillows that would prop Bethany up at just the right angle when
he flipped her onto her stomach to take her hard and fast from behind.
    Still nestled inside her slick warmth, he began to harden
again. The thought of having her sweet ass bent over in front of him gave him
all the motivation he needed to get them both to the bed.
    Bethany slipped from his grasp as he lowered her to the bed.
Her legs and arms flopped over pillows like a rag doll’s might. With her eyes
closed and her deep steady breaths, she looked unconscious. The only thing that
gave away her true state was the slight, satisfied smile that graced