She twists her hips, and I grunt. Good God, I’m not going to last much longer. She’s too perfect, too sweet, too lithe and tight. Apple flares around me, and she gasps.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispers.
Her gentleness takes my breath. I kiss her, soft and slow, while urging her hips to grind against mine, needing any movement at all to keep from losing my mind right now.
“You won’t,” I whisper against her lips.
She whines and shakes her head. I grab her chin, forcing her still. Her eyes widen, and there’s a heartbeat of worry, but then her scent strengthens, betraying how much she likes being manhandled. It goes straight to my dick, and I groan as the heat of my orgasm builds hotter.
“Holy hell. You won’t hurt me, promise. I need it. I needyou.”
I let my hand fall from her chin and skate down her body, soaking in the goosebumps that follow my touch. She gasps as I circle her clit, her body clamping down around me. The tension slowly ebbs from her shoulders, and she circles her hips again. I can’t help the pathetic sound that I make.
“God. You feel amazing. Youareamazing.”
I push up into her as I play with her nipple, flicking it before pulling it into my mouth. She mewls, and the sound shoots down my spine. Holy fuck, she needs to come before I embarrass myself. I twist a hand into her hair and kiss her, forcing it deep and hard. When I pull away, her eyes are heavy-lidded, and her breaths come faster than ever. I circle her clit quicker, watching as the pleasure starts to overwhelm her body.
With a desperate gasp, I whisper, “Now lock me, Alpha.”
She comes on a soft cry, her body tightening above and around me. Before I can finish soaking in the glorious sight of her falling apart for me, her lock tightens down, and I cry out, my own orgasm wrung from me between one breath and the next.
“Holy God,” I mutter, dropping my head into the cradle of her shoulder, pulling her tighter into me.
My entire body shakes with the force of all the sensations. A new wave of apple explodes from me, surrounding us, and she groans low in her throat. Her hands are light as air where she runs them up and down my back in long, graceful patterns. Her teeth trace the column of my throat. All at once, it’s exactly what I need. Her teeth breaking my skin, tying me to her at the most basic, primal level. I moan at the thought, at the desperation that seeps into my blood.
“Cole,” she whispers.
She pulls her teeth from away from my skin, and I can’t help but cry out at the loss. She shudders in my hold, her body tightening around my cock even more. The front door closing makes us both jump. Not even a heartbeat later, her lock releases. Our combined mess covers us both.
“We’re back,” Megan calls.
“We’ll be up in a minute,” Charlotte says. Then she kisses me, long and hard. My dick twitches where it’s still inside her. Whenshe eases off of me, I groan at the loss. Her smile is radiant. “I think this counts as flouncing rather than rolling.”
My laugh echoes off the walls.
Twenty-Eight
MARCUS
Warmth fills my chest, spreading from beneath my sternum and into my arms—Cole’s contentment with just a touch of worry. Being able to feel him,knowhim, is everything I could have hoped for even if the still-foreign sensation makes it harder to secure the tie around my neck. As if my own anxieties about this dinner aren’t enough to consume me. I huff out a sigh and pull the haphazard knot apart, trying to get my hands to stop shaking.
Meeting and engaging with rich people is nothing new for me. Working in the arts, heading up the entire philanthropic arm of the New York Philharmonic, has forced me to rub elbows with the wealthiest and most powerful people in the world. Tonight really shouldn’t be any different, especially since I’ve been in the same room as Johnathan Fallon before, even chatted with him once or twice at various fundraising events over the years. Hell, it was his own event where I met Cole three years ago.
Easy enough. Slam dunk, really. And yet…
Nerves crawl up my throat, and I have to swallow twice before I can remember how to breathe around them.
A soft knock steals my attention from attempting to put on the tie for the third time. I glance over my shoulder. Cole leans against the door frame, his hands tucked in the pockets of his exquisitely tailored black slacks. His shirt is a rich silk, the sheen subtle but telltale all the same. A small monogram is tucked on the inside of the cuff, a small signal of the bespoke European brand. I swallow again at the blatant display of his wealth. His eyebrows furrow as my own insecurity bleeds across the bond.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. He pushes off the doorjamb but hesitates, eyeing my room before looking at me again. “Can I come in?”
“Of course,” I say. “Why wouldn’t you be allowed in my room? You were in here just a couple nights ago.”
It’s not until I feel the lingering, festering resentment blending with embarrassment that I realize what the small twist of his lips must mean.
“My dads never let Sienna in their rooms. Ever. I didn’t even realize it was abnormal until Scarlett matched with her pack and she slept in their beds more than her own.”
“Scarlett?”
