“It feels freeing to just talk about it, doesn’t it?” he asks with just enough understanding to help me feel much too comfortable.
My eyes hold his as my knees slip again, dropping me lightly to his lap. His eyes get more predatory, as his smile darkens, showing me a hint of the wolf beneath the surface. And a hint of canine teeth too.
Or maybe it’s because of the moon’s pull and not the fact I have clearly got some self-control issues these days.
“It feels freeing just to have someone know and mostly understand,” I agree, trying to clear the nervousness from my throat.
His arms slowly move into the water, gently circling me, before his hands land on my hips.
He abruptly, and without warning, jerks me forward, and my hands fly to his shoulders to steady myself. My body slides over him in a firm, body-awakening glide that shreds every single reservation I had left.
Thinking is hard stuff right now, since I’m pressed right up against me is his very hard, very noticeable, very erect cock.
I’m not really sure there’s a more eloquent way to put it, because thinking truly is insanely impossible.
I work damn hard to pretend I’m not some novice to casual intimacy.
His gaze runs over my face again, almost as though he’s studying me. “As much as I’d love to make the move that seems enticingly welcome, the moon makes me a far too aggressive man right now,” he tells me.
Am…I supposed to feel rejected? Again?
The perfect line pops into my head.
“You said fuck or fight. I messed up your fight,” I decide to point out, feeling stupid and regretting the words that would have sounded better from someone like Shera, or Anna, or the omegas even.
Practically anyone but me could have sounded sexy saying that line. Awesome. I hope I’m not cringing as much on the outside as I am on the inside.
A deep, somewhat alarming, feral growl vibrates his chest, jarring me from my own inner tangent. He abruptly pulls me closer, one of his hands sliding down to my ass.
I know my body is already boiling in hot water and all, but it feels like fire burns through my veins with that touch. Emit doesn’t just touch a girl. He apparently possesses them when they’re in his arms.
I…had no idea I was so into that.
“Wolves are resilient. I’m not sure about you,” he says as though he’s explaining the rejection.
I do not try to come up with anymore sexy talk. I’m not just bad at being a gypsy. I’m bad at being a woman too, it seems.
“Probably for the best,” I say on a somewhat shaky breath. “I seem to lose friends when we have sex. As a personal rule, I’m not supposed to attempt it anymore.”
His gaze lingers on my lips, and I know who kisses who first.
It’s me who kisses him, because I’m apparently a very weak person.
AJR’s Weak starts playing in my head like my mind is reasoning that it’s perfectly okay to be doing this.
His lips don’t move, which makes me feel really stupid, so I quickly pull back and just sort of awkwardly stare at him.
His expressionless gaze unchanging, he roughly pushes one hand into my wet hair, his thumb stroking my cheek as he stares directly into my eyes.
The warm water laps at my waist, making me painfully aware of the chill above the waist. But nowhere nearly as painfully aware as I am of how very hard he definitely is…under me.
His other hand smooths up my back, dragging warmth over my chilled skin. It just adds one more layer of seriously unsated—
“You’re entirely too tempting,” he murmurs just before his lips are on mine.
Gone is the hesitation in his movements, and when he kisses me, it feels like I’m being enveloped and encompassed. His arms go around me, and he invades every ounce of space I have left, as he pulls me right up against him.
“Did Damien lose control?” he asks against my lips.
As certainly as I feel my heartbeat hammering against my chest, I can feel him holding back and desperately wanting to let go.
“Yes,” I whisper quietly, unsure why he’s bringing Damien up right this second.
“Then I won’t fucking hurt you if he didn’t,” he says before the kiss turns consuming.
I’ve never felt like I was under someone’s complete control before in a physical manner.
But Emit moves me, holds me, and surrounds me in a way that makes me realize just how powerful he really is. A shudder sneaks through me, as my fingers tangle in his hair, and I kiss him harder.
He tears away the strings of my top, and I feel it tugged away before my bare breasts press against his chest. It’s a heady rush, feeling his impatience matching my own—a stark contrast to Damien.
He tears the bottoms away with the same impatience, and I feel him lifting me out of the water. My arms tighten around his neck as gravity sinks in, making me certain I’m twice as heavy as normal by the time I emerge, but he doesn’t falter.
My back lands against a towel, and he comes down on top of me, his lips never leaving mine. With controlled strength that only makes me want him more, he grabs my legs and shoves them farther apart, before working his way farther between them.
No foreplay. No teasing. No fucking around, apparently.
No complaints here.
I don’t want to lose this moment and talk myself out of it, since it feels good to have him just seizing this control, making the decision feel so simple. Two people who both happen to have what the other needs with no expectations for tomorrow.
I think that’s the decision being made. It makes it feel less shallow than I really want him in this moment, so I jump back on my Anna-motto train like it’s okay to make pit-stops.
I stop thinking altogether when the blunt, thick head of his cock starts pressing into me, lining up just perfectly, before he thrusts inside so suddenly that it forces me to suck in a shocked breath.
It’s as if he’s perfected the angle, the speed, and the perfect way to make a girl accept every massive inch of him without discomfort, and my nails dig into his back as he kisses me stupid.
I don’t even have time to catch my breath, before he’s pulling back and thrusting in again, this time rendering me damn near mindless, because his hips know how to roll just fucking right.
Fuck my life.
The devouring way he’s kissing me, and the encompassing sense of possession, is ensnaring and intoxicating, just like his confidence and control.
His hand slides up to my hips as he breaks the kiss, one of his hands slamming into the decking next to my head as he anchors me to him and drives me toward a fast, desperate oblivion with every rock of his hips.
Now I realize we skipped foreplay, because he knows what the hell he’s doing. I get it now. A little too damn well.
My hands slide up to his shoulders, as I press as close to him as possible, feeling the perfect, powerful glide of his body against mine as he owns me.
It’s almost drugging—the perfection that is Emit Morrigan—as he stays half in and half out of control.
The feral sounds, the hungry desire, the aggressive edge that stays firmly on the pleasurable side…
I kiss him harder, urging him to lose a little more of that control, desperate to find out how much of him I can handle and wanting him to feel as free as he’s made me feel today.
It’s only fair.
My eyes lift and collide with Vance’s just as the orgasm washes over me. I press most of my face against Emit’s shoulders, working hard to keep as quiet as possible, but find that pretty damn hard to do, since the man is determined he’s going to wreck me tonight.
Vance stands on the balcony, not even pretending to not be watching, while still in his towel.
It’s the way he looks like he hates that he enjoys watching us that gives me a twisted sense of enjoyment out of it, simply because I can tell he’s only watching due to the inability to look away.
My head lulls back to the side, and Emit captures my lips again. I give him all my attention, as he works me toward a second cliff, his hips driving harder, until that firm line gets perfectly thinner.
It’s a beautiful thing with them sometimes…giving the monster some freedom.
Chapter 9
VANCE
I’m drying my hair with one towel, while another stays tied at my waist. We’ll have to finish the hunt tomorr—
A very telling set of growls and some barely audible moans has my eyebrows lifting in surprise, as I walk to the balcony door of my room. I moved all of Violet’s things to the room next to mine, since someone would have to pass my room to get to hers now.
I strongly regret that decision when I see what’s progressing outside.
Emit has her on the deck, completely naked, before he shoves himself inside her so hard that her entire body slides forward.
I start to go knock his head off his shoulders, until I hear her little cry of pleasure. That’s when my confusion returns.
Her hands shoot to his shoulders, and her nails make small indentions on his back, as she hangs on like she wants to keep him there.
His hands move, and one slams into the decking so hard it punches a hole through it. However, Violet just kisses him harder, as though she’s foolishly not the least bit afraid.
Fucking girl is going to be the death of me. She easily lures them into being as reckless as she is.
I walk over and grab the glass of whiskey I poured before my shower, and return to the edge of the balcony. My eyes roll around in my skull when I catch a familiar scent.
Damien Morpheous.
Before I can address his imposition, Violet’s eyes collide with mine, reminding me of my own imposition. But she just holds my gaze, staring at me as if she wants me watching…as though she’s reminding me how easily that could be me right now.
I’m also certain that look is telling me that she doesn’t even care what I think about it.
It’s as though she’s an entirely different person in his arms during this moment. So different from the soft, vulnerable, intimate thing she was in mine.
He touches her like she’s completely his, and in this particular moment, she is. She’s an animal to match his animal, and she clearly enjoys the change of pace.
“In his wildest dreams, I bet this wasn’t a best case scenario of this little secret trip of yours,” Damien says quietly next to me, even though he’s not visible.
I lift my drink to my lips, eyes on Violet, as she surrenders Emit total control over her. I hate him when I see her enjoying a second orgasm, her sounds muffled against him the best she can manage. My free hand grips the railing a little too tightly, and the wood starts to crack.
“Someone should warn him that our age doesn’t stop us from finding new ways to cock things up,” Damien says very dryly.
“He’s being entirely too rough with her,” I tell him as Violet moans again, shuddering as though she’s found another bloody orgasm.
Emit’s hips move harder, and she only moans louder, like she’s too far gone to care if he breaks her. Damn fucking reckless girl. How is she handling him?