He was a work of art made into flesh, bone, and wings.
Done, with his back rinsed and the last bubbles having been swept away in a rivulet that poured between the cheeks of his ass, she placed the soap in the wall holder and waited.
He turned, studied her, with a smile widening. “On your knees and open your mouth.”
Wait. What? Eyes narrowing, she wondered what he intended. “You wouldn’t?” Not after he turned her on so badly.
But already he was leaning in and whispering to her, “The raspberry was a bad idea” as his hand was winding into her wet hair, and he was tugging her down with a steady force she could not resist—because she didn’t quite want to. She bent at the knees then went to the floor with them, clawing ineffectually athis legs until he grabbed both wrists and fastened them with one great fist above and against the wall.
Then he twisted her hair in the other fist again and brought his cock to her mouth.
“Open, unless you prefer the other hole and no lube?”
This was crazy hot, and she was almost appalled at her own reaction as he put his cock to her mouth while she opened and let him commence the fucking.
The heat of this ran through her, reverberating, tingling, making her open her thighs as if to welcome cock there too, only to realize squeezing them together in pulses was more fun, more pleasurable. When he pulled out for a second, she stayed in position, mouth open, and was vaguely shocked at her moan, at how she met his gaze, past that glistening cock and basically how she begged for more with her eyes.
She could do with real fucking afterward, but this alone was enough to make her whimper. She gurgled as he plunged in again, slipping, thrusting over tongue and teeth to the very back.
Eyes shut, she let him fuck her mouth, let him roughly come at the climax while deep within, and she swallowed even though he was already telling her to. She simply did it. Besides it had Lure benefits. But she really should not have loved that so much.
So close to coming herself, riding a wave that ran up to the edge and pulled back, then washed up again… it had plusses. Though she heard herself quietly beg with that naughty word,please, and squirmed her ass about on the wall, he only kissed her, full-on over her messy mouth, their tongues tangling, breath mingling. Then he whispered the word,no.
He pulled her up and soaped her instead, washing her clean, though she was still in a euphoric haze of yearning for him and for his cock inside her, ramming into her, taking her. So she stayed silent and let him do that thing she’d developed a craving for—him manhandling her.
Fucking superb.
She’d revive her badass bitch later. Much later.
13
Getting dressed meant findingnew clothes, since her goth dress was soaked. Cyn dug through the bed pile and found a little red dress and white leggings. While trying to seem blasé about what had just happened, she slipped the dress on then began on the leggings.
She should remember her prime directive—find out who she was, or once had been… whatever. It was one of those.
She peeked at Vargr. Really though, sex was making being awake and alive again far more interesting.
When she stood to roll the leggings over her butt, Vargr sneaked up behind her. She spun and tried to wriggle from his grasp. He only locked her to him, trapping her wrists at the middle of her back and bending her for a kiss that melted her bones and lasted way too long.
Breath on breath, skin to skin. Kisses were so intimate.
She was gasping when it ended, her mouth tingling, her nipples visibly poking up through the material of the dress. Bras her size were not among the clothing. She served him an arched eyebrow.
His hands shifted to her ass then lower, sneaking under the back of the leggings, his fingers cruising along her slit in her new wetness.
“Hmmm. Next time don’t mock me, if you want me in your pants.”
“Noted.” She squirmed against him and his fingers. Not the most passionate of answers, but her badass bitch side was currently napping, and he had hold of her butt. It felt good. She rustled up a denial. “Not that I did, want you.”
“Liar.” He kissed her again, murmuring. “You are so fucking wet, right now. I could put you on that bed on your back and you’d spread your legs and beg.” He played with her mouth with his thumb, drawing a line around it surprisingly gently.
True. But she wasn’t admitting it. If this was bond-mating doing its thing, she was going to do her best to deny it every single time. This was not love. It was fucking at its dirtiest.
“Ummm. Isn’t this council deciding whether to dispose of me? Should I be thinking of an exit strategy?”
That made him rethink. He drew away, sighed.
“If they choose that, I will leave the tribe, take you into the lower stories while we figure out what to do. Maybe another tribe would have you.” There was doubt in his eyes, though, and a small line creasing between them.
