“Touch me,” she said raggedly.

He didn’t.

Long seconds passed and then finally, blissfully, one chilly hand, not nearly as cold as it’d been before, rested on her hip. Fingers curled into her just like she wanted, holding her.

Another whisper of movement and she stopped trying to decipher what it was and simply waited, feeling. An impression of heat pressed against her thighs and ass. As if he was approaching her but not quite touching.

Then a hard presence was at her entrance. Every single muscle in her body tightened, waiting. She held her breath. Now was the time. But he didn’t push inside.

The hard head of him pushed against her wet core. He didn’t detour inside but pushed down through her soft, wet folds and rubbed across her swollen, needy bud. She cried out, the contracted muscles going limp. A little more, just a little more and she’d soar higher than any bird.

But his touch didn’t trace over her bud again, it dipped back up to her entrance and she couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t keep from rocking her hips back and taking him the barest of inches inside her.

She thought she heard his breath catch but wasn’t sure of anything. His other hand

finally, wonderfully, curved around her other hip.

Then the pressure at her sex grew. It was thick, hot, and wide. Fingers scraping into the carpet, she gasped, feeling like she was being ripped open but without any pain. It was sharp, intense, and so, so good.

“Yes!” she hissed. She wanted him to slam inside, to move hard and fast and give her what she needed. But, dammit, he didn’t.

He moved inside her achingly slow as if he had all the time in the world. He pushed into her unused channel with a massive rod of hard, satiny steel. He stopped moving and her body adjusted around him, forming as he filled her. He reached her virgin barrier and took it like a conqueror, quickly and ruthlessly. No pain, only an incredible hot, stretched sensation as he filled her up.

His fingers dug into her hips and another wave of cream drenched through her, over his cock. Again she thought she heard him say something, make some sound, but her blood was beating so loudly in her ears, and her breathing so heavy she couldn’t be sure of anything. One final push and he squeezed himself all the way into her tight flesh.

Chloe gasped and tried to lock in all the sensations firing through her body. Good, so good, was the only coherent thought she could make before he was dragging himself back through her wet sex. An insane thought that he was going to pull out too soon roared in her mind, so she wrapped her ankles around his legs. Now she knew he made a sound, a husky moan. It was brief but, dammit, she’d heard it.

“Please,” she said, need making her voice ragged and hoarse.

Then, something was let loose inside him. He started thrusting, landing hard and deep inside her. She only lasted two of those thrusts before she was shaking with the most intense orgasm of her whole life.

Screams tore from her throat, her core milked hard over his tunneling thrusts. She shook all over as burning fire exploded from within her, broke through her skin, and sent her soaring higher and higher. The last wave of the fire broke away and drifted down, the shaking in her body subdued to a tremble then stopped. She opened her eyes and was surprised to find she could see.

He’d also stopped thrusting. She needed more. There was still a raging fire inside her.

She needed another release, needed him to douse that fire with his.

“More,” she begged raggedly.

“No.” He started to pull out of her. With a fierce growl that surprised even her, she locked her legs around him and sent him surging full and hard inside her. She gasped and did not mistake his groan.

Her legs gripped him, keeping him locked inside her. The hands on her hips tightened, creating tight, hot sensations where he touched her.

“More.”

His hips retreated, her grip loosening just enough to let him, and then he slid back into her, hitting her as deeply as possible.

“One more,” he said.

Then he hammered into her with hard, punishing thrusts that tingled her skin everywhere from the inside out. Her toes curled, nipples hardening to painful points. Goose bumps broke out over her body, and then she screamed. The fire erupted in her core shooting forth waves of hot cream, dousing her channel, smothering his cock. She screamed again and again as unstoppable waves pulsed through.

He took her even higher that time. Took her even longer to come back down to earth. He was still hard and deliciously thick inside her. She rocked forward and back along his cock, soaking him with her juices.

“No.” His voice just as ragged as hers. Was that a tremble she heard?

Then he dislodged himself and tore away from her. Chloe gasped and spun around to see him coming to a stand. He looked...amazing. His cheeks held a dark blush to them, his lips were wet like he’d licked them, and he moved quickly, pushing his still hard cock back into his pants.

“But you didn’t—”

“No, that wasn’t what this was about.”

“But—”

“Enough.” The commander was back in his voice, lacing his words with pure ice. He

smoothed his clothes back into place. “I’ll give you a minute, then you are to leave this room.

You can’t stay in my study.” He turned and strode from the room before she could say a word.

Chloe looked after him stunned. Eventually she found the energy to pull her shirt back on. She couldn’t help but feel like he’d just slapped her in the face.

He’d liked it, that was why he was so quick to beat feet out of here. She came to a shaky stand and vowed to have him again until he gave her his all. She would have all or nothing. And with each passing day of her new moon, she would grow to need sex daily. She wanted only him.

And next time, he would finish.

“Send a team out to control the breakthrough at point 47, 39. Make it a clean sweep.”

“Of course,” replied Rayn. He bowed at his orders and left.

For the first time since he could remember, Tyrian, leader of the Atal Warriors was restless. There was no quieting his mind. Or his body, for that matter. His balls ached with a fierce, angry pain. Normally he didn’t mind such pain, it served to keep him strong, alert, but this pain did no such thing. Its sole purpose, it seemed, was to remind him of earlier that afternoon and one distracting succubus. She was a mere child by his standards, just now reaching the 29th year of the succubi’s life cycle.

His eyes fell to the carpet, which was nearly as old as he was. He’d fit himself to her there, above all the warnings screaming in his head, and had taken her body. He’d been brutal, hard. He hadn’t wanted to do it to begin with but no matter how gentle he’d tried to be, he’d still ended up taking her like some beast.

Women were gentle creatures to be protected and cared for, whence why she was here to begin with. She was not to be savaged and hammered into like some whore. He couldn’t even help himself. At first the sensations had been...indescribable.

She looked incredible in all her nudity. He could easily see her in a painting, lying among leaves and trees, one arm wrapped above her head tenderly. Though he’d never let another’s eyes look upon it. As quickly as he had the thought, his heart hardened with anger. This was why he didn’t encourage his men to keep women. This...this whatever you called it was already becoming a nuisance, intruding upon his thoughts when he should be working.

Feeling a shaking in his arm, Tyrian looked down, an eyebrow cocking in surprise as he realized his hand was turned into a tight, white-knuckled fist. He flexed his hand, stretching his fingers. Already she was causing problems. It was his fault. He would have to work harder to ignore her charms. The succubus held a magic to her that seemed to keep drawing his attention no matter how much he fought it.