His eyes narrow. “I’m going to find the cunt who hurt you, not because I want to leave. Don’t twist this around.”
“But are you going to tell me we can’t be together?”
His eyes dart away for a split second. A split second that feels like forever, but I get my answer.
Chapter
Nine
KING
My mouth crashes down on hers, and all the shit from before melts away.
I remember to talk after a few moments. “Did I say that? But we need to be fucking careful.”
I talk like an ape, act like one too as I lick more of her sweet taste from her lips. I hunger for her. And the concept is as alien as me being inside holding a woman that I’m prepared to start a war for. After a few fucking days too.
Jesus, all the reasons to stay away—and there’s a few—don’t seem to matter. What we have is so fucking basic, as basic as the need burning through my veins: she’s mine.
Tristan whimpers into my mouth and I go to pull away, worried I’ve pushed wrongly but her hand around the back of my neck squeezes, her nails pressing into my skin, and she deepens our kiss. With her other hand, she fights her way out of the towel and the scent of sweet need takes hold.
But I can’t fuck her after she’s been beaten.
“Don’t you dare tell me you can’t,” she hisses before she sucks on my lip.
How she knew the bruises threatened to derail this isn’t hard to figure out, but the noise of her wet pussy as she fingers herselfhas my path of care veering straight into giving her what she wants.
Perhaps it’s the reality of what happened, the failure I feel that she was hurt after we were together, or it might be the frustration of not finding who was responsible yet. Or it’s most probably how fucking furious I am that someone touched something of mine, but I’d give her anything.
“King,” she demands, her sweet scent blossoming so thick it’s like someone’s opened a new pack of bubble-gum right under my nose. And I fucking love the saccharinity of it, it’s so over the top I swear my teeth ache like I have cavities.
“What do you need, killer?” I growl quietly watching her eyes dilate the more I stop fighting to hold onto my control, the more I focus on her. My hold on my Alpha slips the longer I stare at her, and I have to crack my neck to ease the rush of endorphins targeting her need like a loosed arrow.
“You,” she insists. “Tomorrow, I want to feel your bruising touch on me because you have that right, and they don’t.”
“I’m not sure now’s a good time,” I hiss, my eyes dropping back to the biggest bruise on her body and instantly I see fucking red again.
“Focus on me,” she bites back, her nails dragging over my jaw.
I push against her touch.
“Please,” she says softly.
That’s what fucking tips me over the edge because hearing Tristan be loud, obnoxious, and full of fucking beans is all I need. And I’ll do anything to give her back her volume.
I squeeze her ass cheeks, pulling her closer. “I’m angry at you, killer. I told you to be safe, and look what fucking happened. You got hurt,” I say, my words tumbling out fast.
“Don’t make me…” She nearly gets whatever she was going to say out, but I slap her ass, silencing her.
“You want this?” I snap, kneading the fleshy part of her ass right over my handprint.
“God, yes,” Tristan’s moan is more pronounced than the resounding crack my hand made on her ass.
“Then turn the fuck around,” I bark.
She is fast as lightning as she spins, a visual reminder of her strength, but I need to know no one has stolen her inner fortitude because without question Tristan has two very opposing sides to her. And this side of her needs.
My hand covers the welt on her ass, and she undulates. The more she does it the more I focus on her wanting to feel my touch tomorrow. I grip her hip and drag her closer.
