Bethany's Rite by Eve Jameson

her lips.
    Intending to turn her facedown as he pulled away, he ran his
hands down her body. Over the sides of her breasts, pressing the heels of his
hands into those full curves. He took full enjoyment from the way they plumped
together and created a tempting valley for his cock to slide into. God! There
were so many things he wanted to do with and to Bethany’s luscious body.
    Slowly, he let his hands drift down to her waist and admired
the soft paleness of her skin. The color of rich cream. Soon, he vowed, he
would lap it up like a voracious, insatiable cat, not sparing a single inch.
    He cupped his palms around her hips to flip her over,
marveling at how perfectly her silky flesh molded to his hands. Then he saw the
blood. Her inner thighs were smeared with it.
    Christ. How could he have forgotten? He glanced down. The
evidence of her recently taken virginity was on his swollen cock as well.
    What the hell was he thinking, planning to take her again so
soon? The woman really had gone to his head. And she must have pushed out all
his common sense on her way in. No way would she be ready for him again so
soon. Especially in the hard and rough manner his body clamored for.
    Damn it. The desire to slam into her tight cunt from behind
was so intense that he began to shake with the wanting of it. In his mind, he
could already see the rounded cheeks of her ass positioned high, her back
arched to expose her glistening, swollen pussy. Could hear her whimper as he
rammed home. The wet, sucking sounds of her sex pulling on him as he drew back
to repeat the motion again and again. Her screams as she came. Her nails
clawing at the sheets—
    “Wyc?”
    His eyes flew open at her worried whisper. Her green eyes no
longer glowed in passion as she frowned up at him. He realized his fingers were
digging into her hips, and he immediately let go of her, leaving behind bright
red marks on her skin.
    “Relax,” he said, his voice strained and harsh. “I’m going
to get something to clean you up with.”
    She murmured something indiscernible and let her eyes fall
closed. Wyc wiped himself down in the bathroom before running a washcloth under
warm water and bringing it back to the bedroom. Bethany hadn’t moved.
    He sat on the bed beside her and pushed her legs wider
apart. Her only response was a grunt of irritation at having been disturbed,
which quickly turned into a soft sigh as he placed the warm cloth between her
thighs. With gentle swipes, he meticulously cleaned her, taking the opportunity
for a close study of her intimate flesh that brought him so much pleasure. With
every stroke he memorized her response—her little hums, slight flinches,
flexing hands and tensing muscles—discovering where, even here, she was the
most sensitive.
    Her quiet laugh brought his head up to meet her gaze.
    “I think I’m clean,” she said.
    He sat up and gave her a knowing smile. “I always like to do
a thorough job with anything I start.”
    “So I’ve learned,” she said with a languid stretch that
pointed her toes, arched her back and pushed her hands into the pillows above
her head. When she was done, much too soon in his opinion, she rolled to her
side and rested her head on her arm and curled her legs up to her stomach.
    “God, I can’t believe the curse is finally broken. Sex is
amazing. All these years and this is what I’ve been missing.” She gave him a
wide smile. “I have a lot of time to make up for.”
    His eyes narrowed as anger washed through him. “You’ll make
it up with me, Bethany. Only me. Do you understand? Besides, the Guardian is
still in place. I’m still the only man who can fuck you.”
    She frowned. Leaned up on one elbow. “You mentioned that
guardian thing before. What are you talking about?”
    He pushed her left leg back and circled the mark high on the
inside of her right thigh. She looked down. As he ran his fingers over it, the
light birthmark stain darkened and a perfect picture of a dragon