Series: Star Moon Pack Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 118781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
“You can’t get away from what’s between us any more than you can get away from me right now.” He gives both nipples one last, vicious pinch before sliding his hands down the length of my body. I wish I could keep quiet. I wish it didn’t feel so good.
He spreads my thighs wide, the swollen head of his dick resting on my mound. My body tightens up, and my heart almost stops while I hold my breath. Anticipating. I’m at the edge of a cliff, and the slightest touch from a feather could send me falling over and plummeting down.
It isn’t a feather that does it.
It’s the way he suddenly pulls his hips back, lining himself up with me using one hand—then slams his entire length inside of me all at once.
The world shatters around me. I can’t hear anything, I can’t see, I can’t even think. All I can do is feel.
And it feels incredible. I’m dancing. I’m flying. I’m finally free. My soul lifts from my body and soars high overhead through the clouds. My wolf howls—joyous, liberated, and finally satisfied after waiting so long. Too long.
Wilde’s unforgiving thrusts shock me back into the present moment, where he grabs my throat in one hand and squeezes as his dick pumps in and out. Merciless, brutal, especially once he takes my hip in his other hand and pulls me against him in time with his strokes. Every pull chafes my wrists, making the leather dig deeper, sending white-hot pain sizzling through me to meet the unfathomable pleasure building in my core. Pleasure that intensifies with every thrust. Every grunt. Every time our bodies slam together.
“Tell me.” He tightens his grip on my neck, and a fog washes across my vision, leaving me gasping and pulling violently against the chains but yes, meeting his thrusts with my own thrusts, too. Jerking my hips, encouraging him even as I gasp for air and fight to hold onto consciousness.
“Say it.” He’s hurting me, he’s killing me, he’s punishing me for every denial. And I wouldn’t change it. Not when every deep, angry thrust sends me closer to the peak. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he shows me I can. Like he knows I can handle it. Like he knows what I’m capable of. What we’re capable of together.
I rasp out the only word I can, the only word that makes sense. The word echoing in my head, louder and louder each time Wilde’s balls slap against my ass, each time he withdraws only to drive himself home again, each time he grunts—strained and pleasured, the tendons now standing out on his neck, his teeth gritted.
“Yes!” It’s so faint, drowned out by the wet slapping sound of his body crashing against mine. “Yes!”
“You’re mine.”
There’s only one answer. “Yes!” I don’t know what I’m saying. I don’t know if I’m responding to his demands or to the blinding pleasure tearing me apart. “Yes! Yes!”
And it’s like the dam finally breaking. Like my answer is the key to everything. All at once, the tension explodes, and bliss shoots through me, lighting my body on fire.
“Fuck!” Wilde buries himself deep and stays that way while my pussy clenches around him. I plant my feet on the bed and lift my hips, my back arched, and a howl tears itself out of me, filling the room until I’m sure the walls themselves will crumble.
Finally, it breaks, and I collapse against the mattress, sobbing out my joy and relief, the blissful release after so much waiting, and so much tension. The world comes back into focus when he lets go of my throat. I gulp in air and watch him pull out, stroking himself a few times before he comes across my chest. I can’t help but watch as each spurt hits my skin, running over my breasts and down my stomach.
And I know without being told that I lost our chess match. He just declared checkmate.
26
WILDE
I don’t know what to call the feeling swelling in my chest as I look down at the sleeping, sated Lili. Victory? Relief? Well, relief is definitely a part of it. I can’t pretend it isn’t. A hundred-pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I can breathe and think clearly again. Only now do I see what a brain fog I was in thanks to this. Wanting her, needing her, demanding her with no hope of relief.
That’s no longer a problem.
I took her. Claimed her in earnest, end of story. By the time I cleaned her up and released her from the cuffs, she was mewling like a kitten, curling into a ball and falling asleep almost instantly. She’ll never manage to shake off what I did to her. I didn’t merely mark her skin this time. I marked her soul.