Accidental mate

Chapter 2

Morning sunlight filtered though the rotten slats, held together by sheer willpower at this point, of the shack you had sought shelter in from the storm in the night before. The harsh light burned through the closed eyes of Grimmjow, awakening him rudely from the most refreshing sleep he had had in recent memory. Grumbling under his breath he screwed his eyes shut tighter, defiantly unwilling to let the sun dictate when he should wake.

Despite his efforts, sleep evaded him, senses rushing an onslaught of smells and sensations into his consciousness. His own scent was overpowering, lingering on the soft flesh he had caged in his arms. Cracking his eyes open he was met with his own teeth marks, angrily prominent on the back of your neck. The night rushed back to him with nauseating speed.
The taste of your blood as he sunk his teeth into your pathetically weak skin. You moaning like a bitch in heat as he fucked into your vice like cunt. The pride he felt having a willing bitch to rut into. He felt strong and in control, the undercurrent of his rutting desire was subdued, finally sated enough to not feel like clawing his own skin off.

You moaned in your sleep, nuzzling deeper into the pillow under your head. Grimmjow snatched his arm away from you as though you had caught fire, glaring into the back of your head. His cock had come free during the night, knot deflated. No longer attached to you, Grimmjow crawled from your nest in search of his clothes.

Locating them easily, his eyes kept darting to you as he covered up. The nest was pitiful, worn and dirtied by other men. Grimmjow sneered at the thought, turning to leave the hut to hunt. Humans were disgusting. The state of the nest niggled in the back of his mind, rooting deeply, stopping Grimmjow when he reached the door, pulling his eyes back to it. A growl rumbled in his chest, teeth flashing in a sneer, annoyed with how the nest looked, annoyed that he was bothered by it.

Grimmjow quietly stalked around the room, feet of a hunter not disturbing the smallest of stones scattered around. Grimmjow gathered up the discarded clothing that held your scent, along with the pillow left on the floor where he originally stayed. Meticulously he placed them around your sleeping form, building a barrier around you. It wasn't enough, the alpha sneered. Adding your backpack and some rags he found in a chest near the window, Grimmjow debated going outside do find some greenery to pad up the nest when you rolled to your back in your sleep.

Grimmjow stood above you, taking in your appearance. You looked like shit. Your fur was tangled and knotty, fanned out around you. Dangerous. It would be easy to grab onto in a fight, easy to yank it back and expose your throat, ripe for slitting. Your face was clammy and flushed. You looked sickly. Grimmjow knelt besides the nest, leaning in to sniff at your exposed neck

Grimmjow's own scent was heavy around you, dominating your own salty sweet smell. You didn't smell like infection, which was a relief. Only because he didn't know the way to where the shinigami live. He didn't care if you were sick. His keen eyes spotted two more of his marks on your skin, purpling on your otherwise milky complexion. The one marking your tit was particularly drawing his eye.

With a disgusted huff, Grimmjow determinedly stalked out of the cabin, letting the door swing shut behind him. He took a lung full of the crisp air brought on after a storm, clearing his senses from your lingering scent. He could taste the damp moss and earthy soil in the air, hear the ruffling of feathers and swaying of creaking overhead branches. He felt a tingle in the air to the right, head snapping in that direction. He caught the subtle aroma of a hollow caught in the breeze. Bearing his fangs, Grimmjow gave chase, following the scent easily.

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You woke up slowly, body heavy with tiredness, your aching muscles protested as you started to stretch out your tense limbs. A sharp burst of pain between your legs had you gasping. Hissing around clenched teeth you held still, taking stock of your body. You felt weak, limbs sluggish and heavy. Muscles felt tense and tight. Your throat was painfully dry, you tried to swallow and was rewarded with a dry scratchy feel. Your neck throbbed, a pulsating heat reminding you of the vicious bites you endured from that animal.