What the Heart Wants

Everything will be made clear-3

The world snapped back into focus.

Sasha thought she heard the wolves' lonesome howl from somewhere far away as she rejoiced in being held and cherished by the man she had feared. The wolves mourned the loss of their alpha, for he had lost the battle and was now at the mercy of the enemy.

Clint suddenly pulled back to search her face for affirmation of what her body was screaming out to him. Finding confusion and burning passion, a growl escaped from deep in his chest as he quite literally lunged upon her.

A giggle escaped Sasha’s mouth before she could reign it in as his mouth blazed a molten trail from her collar bone, up her jugular to reclaim her mouth.

Their clothes seemed to melt away as their mouths continued their heated mating. While their hands continued getting reacquainted with old familiar and unforgotten places.

Sasha’s head reeled with the heady intoxication seeping through her veins.

Only this man could awaken the wanton harlot in her. She longed to be this free all the time. To feel and experience all of this passion, color, flavor that life held with him at the helm.

And why not?

This was the man who taught her everything, this was her beginning.

God, she had missed this man, she had missed the woman she became when she was with this man. She felt renewed, she felt strong, she felt powerful.

Clint could not believe that he held his Sasha in his arms, caressing her, kissing her, he was about to make love to her. This woman heated his blood beyond reason. Like no other, she inflamed him; changed him from who he was. Would he never be able to control the animal she produced in him?

Did he care to even try when it felt this heavenly?

She was so wet, his angel. Always ready for him…never denying him what she knew he needed most, a place for the animal in him to worship.

Sasha arched against him, non-verbally begging him to give them both what they sought. Clint entered her sliding in all the way to the hilt, deeper than he intended, and the sheer force of the pleasure enticed both of them to pause breathlessly.

It had been so long since either had experienced such exquisite pleasure, tiny pulses of lightning traveled between them.

Clint growled lower, into the crook of her neck, causing her to arch and explode in response to his guttural plea. As her lower body clenched around his still enlarging manhood, ragged sobs ripped from her gaping mouth. Shuddering, she clung to him as he began to slowly move within her with tremendous control.

His barred teeth showed the cost of his efforts, yet he still wanted to extend her next release at the expense of his own. Plunging ever deeper, he sought to mark her and ruin her for all others, unaware the territory he was so carefully plundering already belonged exclusively to him. She’d surrendered it long ago and none others had ever trodden upon it since.

When she arched and cried out again, he could hold it no more and he shouted his own release as he flooded her body with his hot creamy seed.

Collapsing in exhaustion, he rested his forehead on the junction just above her breasts, running the risk of suffocation.

He could not remember ever being so blissfully happy.

Clint would have scoffed at anyone who would dare tell him he would ever again know any measure of the peace and contentment he now felt.

This was the best wet dream he had ever had. He smiled as he abandoned all rational thought to the prospect of well-deserved sleep, to quiet his rioting emotions.

Sasha smiled contentedly as she riffled her hand through the damp locks of the man she swore she’d never see again. And yet she’d made love to him, with him.

This was where she should always be, who she should always be, and with whom she should always be. She had always loved Clint, she would always love Clint, but how could she tell him without fear that she would see that hard, jaded look in his eyes?

A look she had put there herself.

But he loved her, she could feel it. And because he loved her; whether he knew it or not, she would risk it. She could conquer this. She just had to hope he realized he loved her before he destroyed her.

And in the end, it didn’t matter; the past… the future. None of it did.

God, how she had missed this man.

This was the most erotic dream she'd ever had (and she’d had some doozies before), but never like this. Even her real s*x life couldn’t compare with the things her body was experiencing in this dream. And yet, she could feel it, it seemed so real. Each caress, kiss, lick sent shivers down her length. Even now, as his mouth began it’s descent toward her inner thigh, she shuddered from the sensations his fingers were creating.

And just when she squeezed her eyes shut, his mouth covered the opening his fingers had just vacated. His tongue completing the symphony, his fingers had begun. Sasha couldn’t keep her eyes from rolling back in her head or from collapsing back into the bed.

His smell on the sheets enveloping her in his essence, he was around her, inside her…everywhere.

The beautiful contrast of his creamy freckled skin and auburn head bent to pay homage to her in the most intimate way was more than she could handle on any level. Visual or physical. Even her mind's eye produced images of him kneeling between her long-well-shaped caramel-colored thighs, nibbling at her core... it was all too much.

Light and dark, white and black, hard and soft… heat waves swam before her eyes before she lost consciousness. Drifting in the aftermath of the sweetest explosion that tore her asunder.

Sasha is jolted back to awareness by the insistent pounding deep within the pit of her stomach. She realizes she is lying on her stomach, one arm underneath, one of his caressing her left breast while he repeatedly sinks fully into her from the rear.

She'd never been unconscious, just f*ked into a stupor. An undiscovered plane of existence... but she couldn't ponder that just now.

At this angle, his length and girth are almost more than she can stand… this can’t really be happening.

Twisting her head, she becomes impaled by his eyes as well; the bright emerald color shifting with each stroke from a smolder to a glow, steals her breath and coaxes her eyes to molten silver, making him gasp then growl…riding an even deeper stroke.

How could they still feed off of each other after so long apart? In response, Sasha angles back to accept his next plunge, allowing him ever deeper access, causing an increased fervency of his thrusts as he grounds out finding the bottom door of the velvet cavern.

Clint grabs handfuls of her hair, the defiant wench. She tempts him even as he ravages her. He can withstand no more, he is only a man. He shouts his release even as she begins to come undone and quake around him.

Effectively milking his passion & sating them both. For the time being.

Clint awoke to the ember-glow of candlelight, every spare surface supporting its own beacon of light. In his exhaustion, he was disoriented as to why his house was ablaze and where the day had gone.

His breath hitches in his throat as the covers around his feet begin to move, slowly ascending toward his unprotected nakedness.

The most tender of pulses are set off by the searching tendril-like fingers exploring his lean calves, now thighs. Totally powerless to move as the first open-mouthed kiss is planted on the tender inside of his thigh.

His stomach muscles clench as silky hair tickles his taunt stomach and naval cavity.

This is insanity. How can he still be unstated? Again, so fiercely… how can he be moved to want her so much?

Sasha is going to drive him completely mad if she continues these ministrations. Clint isn’t sure how much more he can stand. His own moans are forced from his body in reply to her suckling noises.

The licking, sloppy kisses, slurping… that does it.

Her fingertips reverently cradle the tip of his manhood, sending voltage through his loins and pumping instant heat into his veins. The purple mushroom-shaped head swells even more, growing ever darker in color and more angry looking in response to the tender and slow attention being lavished upon it.

His heart pumps so hard, he fears she can hear it from her cozy nest between his legs. Clint is rapidly approaching fever pitch, he knows he isn’t going to be able to withstand another moment of this assault.

Instantly, as if she'd heard his thoughts, the most cooling wet kiss envelope half of his shaft. Her swirling tongue creating all together new sensations. Compounding all his excitement, yet dousing the explosive heat with liquid mist as cold as ice.

Ice, Sasha is worshiping him with ice in her mouth.

He could feel the maddening swirl of each swipe of her tongue against the bottom side of his d**k. The ice on one side, then her teeth gently gnawing along the top side of the mushroom head. Her own passion so incited he can feel the constant pull of his skin against the shaft.

This is heaven on earth.

Sasha an angel of dark pleasures, and he could suddenly smell her melting from her core. The musky sweetness of the familiar scent was going to be his undoing.

But as much seed as he had already spilled inside her this day, he did not want to spend inside her mouth. She seemed intent on having her own way until she met the ravenous look in his eyes. A look that stilled her every motion. A look that brooked no disobedience, offered no quarter. Took no captives.

Even her breathing became shallow, as she relinquished her domination of the encounter to his haggard gaze.

This was the Wolf King.

He appeared a starving man, a stalker; she had hoped to quench this juncture of the all-consuming fire they had ignited, yet she realized too late she had only stoked the flames.

Sasha could see the evidence of his enjoyment of her attentions, but she could also see that this particular foray was far from over.

Her mind rebelled at the predatory look he was exerting, the fear must have shown because he chuckled deeply and looked even more brazen. Feeling his Aura swell inside his chest for the first time in almost 2 decades. Fully unleashing the wolf king he had so successfully subjucated thus far.

His arm shot out to stay her, just as she thought to bolt. His eyes drank in her body in a head to toe glance more invasive than any touch his hands had yet executed.

She began to tremble from deep in her center, born of her uncertainty as well as her arousal.

“Please…” she whispered brokenly, imploring him with her eyes as tears sprang unbidden to the forefront.

She cursed herself for the show of fear and weakness, consciously trying to stiffen her spine. But all efforts were ineffective, for she realized too late that she had resurrected the Wolf King.

She knew she could rage, cry, protest… it would make no difference. He would ravage her, she desired it despite her fear. Sasha loathed herself for her uncontrolled desire, she loathed him for being so damned desirable.

The upheaval of her raw emotions roiled and churned her stomach, stoking her anger to unimaginable heights.

Her free hand shot out and connected with his jaw, leaving an angry red reminder of the fear at war with her mounting temper. One auburn eyebrow arched over narrowed and darkened moss-colored eyes. His steely grin widened over a clenched jawline that looked like it could be hewn of stone.

A fresh blush rose to her cheeks and crept downward to tint her upper torso, turning her n*****s a deep purple.

“Please what…” he said through clenched teeth, not bothering to open his mouth or move his lips.

“You know I would give you anything. You have but to name it. That… is still true, Sassy.” He finished with a tinge of sadness softening the grit in his voice.

“I” she stammered, shaking her head while futilely attempting to back away… but not gaining any traction.

Abruptly, he released her so quickly she fell disheveled onto the bed; collapsing in a heap onto her back, an obvious tactical error… she didn’t move quickly enough.

Clint easily grabbed one leg and climbed astride in the same motion while she continued to half-heartedly scoot away… never breaking eye contact.

As Sasha continues to shake her head in denial, her arms rise unbidden to his neck, pulling him down atop her as he stoically remains frozen to make the choice hers alone.

In that moment, everything changed… they both knew it.

They can’t go back, and they can’t undo what’s been or is being done.

“Anything for the lady.” He states as he very roughly enters her and plunges to his full length. They both climax in unison.

The fire was gone, leaving only sweat, embers of tenderness and the touching of an arm to a chest, legs entwined and seeds well planted.

Clint kissed her forehead before rolling aside pulling her in close & drifting into a deep untroubled sleep with a genuine sense of fresh hope and excitement for the first time in 15 years.

All because of the courage of the woman in his arms. She was strong enough to come to him despite her fear, able to face the demons that lay waste to his soul, she had proven that she was willing to save him.

Clint believed Sasha alone could redeem him, but admitting that meant she would also destroy him if she would not stay.

She had to stay.