I kiss her, devouring her mouth as I slide my hand to the front, running my fingers over the material covering her sweet pussy. I run my finger beneath the material, smearing them with her sweet honey as I run them up her flesh stopping to circle the sweet nub. I bite her lip, sucking the blood that seeps. I’m going fucking crazy; I sink one finger into her tight pussy, pulling back to watch her come undone.
“Oh, Baby,” Wynter whimpers, moving her hips as she falls over the edge.
Damn, she’s so fucking hot, so responsive to my touch.
I move my finger out to run it up her folds, rubbing her swollen flesh. Then I bring my hand up to my mouth, licking my fingers gazing into her heated eyes.
Fuck!
She tastes so damn good.
I swear that she sets me on fire like no one ever has.
It must be because she’s mine.
I want to eat her sweet pussy, but I can’t, not now.
I kiss her with all the wild need that’s pushing me to claim her. I move my other hand to grab her hair, twisting it in my hands, pulling her sweet mouth closer, devouring her. I grab her ass with my other hand, grinding against her pussy. She melts into me; a soft moan escapes as I release her to take a deep breath, gazing into her eyes.
“Princess, this . . . needs,” I gasp, not finishing since Autumn shows up.
“Wynter,” Autumn says, walking out of the clubhouse looking around the yard.
We pull apart as Autumn turns to the right and sees us. She crosses her arms, tapping her foot, shaking her head.
I lift my chinat Autumn, looking around the yard to see if anyone is looking at us.
“This is not good, sister,” Autumn says, rolling her eyes.
“I don’t see why not,” Wynter says, holding onto my hand.
“Autumn, good to see you. Later, Princess,” I say, kissing her cheek.
Saved by the bell!
Two
Blood
Ten months later.
I wrap my towel around my slim hips, rubbing my chest, walking over to my bed. I pull off the towel, grabbing my boxers, pulling them on, looking at my ink.
It was a fucking nuisance to get the ink on me since I had to burn it with Vodka, lighting it up for the fire to have it penetrate into my skin. It’s the blood that fights and heals every inch of my body, but thank fuck, the scorching of my blood with the Vodka has worked.
I fucking love the ink; every tat means something to me, especially the fucking face I have close to my heart. It’s the face that is always on my mind, that’s in my soul, burning my every thought.
So, I’m fucking glad that the brothers haven’t recognized her face and figured out who it is. But, of fuckingcourse, the brother rarely sees me without a shirt.
Fuck!
But it’s not a great idea to act on my feelings because it wouldn’t work.
I hurry up to get dressed; I know that the party is going to start. I run my fingers through my wet, chestnut brown hair to smooth it down, and then I grab my belt.
“Blood, it’s fucking time for the party,” Death yells, knocking on my door.
I pull on my prospect cut, looking at it for the last time. Tonight, it’s my patching in party, and I can’t fucking wait.
