“I’m asking you if you think this…” I gasped as his hand left my thigh and slid down to the tattoo on my groin. The silent inferno in his eyes burned so hot, I almost expected the amber irises to turn blue. “…Is it possible your hunter’s mark knew I would never hurt you?”
My clit throbbed in response to his low voice. I was on fire, despite the water having cooled to a disappointing lukewarm.
“What if I want you to hurt me?” I asked only half-joking.
He frowned, shaking his head and pushing me away. “No, I…” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
I ignored his frown and hopped back into his lap.
“What are you—” My lips grazing over his halted his words. He closed his eyes and growled. “Joanna,” he whispered, “I don’t think we should tonight.”
I took his face in my hands. “If you want me to stop, Alpha, then tell me to stop.” My lips danced and teased against his as I gave him small, gentle kisses. I nibbled his lower lip and grazed it with my tongue, smiling when he moaned into my mouth. “Marcus. Tell me to—”
He palmed my ass and pulled me closer, pinning my clit against his erection. The pressure made me groan.
With one hand still on my ass, he raised his other to the back of my neck and drew my head even lower, his lips demanding mine to part wider. His tongue slid its way in, weaving and stroking, making pleasure explode against my tastebuds.
Spearmint was never so intoxicating. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to brush my teeth again without getting so damned wet thinking about the way he tongue-fucked my mouth.
I clutched the base of Marcus’s dick and positioned its head at my aching entrance. But his hands swiftly found my waist, and with his eyes locked on mine—dark and hazed with desire—he dug his fingers into my flesh, lifted me up, and eased me down onto him.
My breath hitched as he stretched me, filling me so deliciously. Water spilled over the edges of the tub with each plunge onto his erection. I rolled my hips, my clit hungry for the friction.
Marcus raised his pelvis, thrusting deeper. My walls clenched tight around his shaft.
“Fuck, Joanna.” He threw his head back, releasing a carnal groan.
My fingers locked into his hair as my hands ached with a need to touch him everywhere—his arms, his back, his dick… though that was now buried inside of me. Stroking me. About to be my undoing.
Marcus wrapped one of his arms around my torso and used his free hand to squeeze and massage my breast.
As the water lapped against our skin, I continued to ride him and revel in the surge of tension that built in my core. I squeezed my eyes shut and threw my head back as the worldmelted away, leaving only the low, primal symphony of Marcus’s grunts.
The orgasm left me gasping for air as it traveled through my body like a tidal wave. My mind was in freefall until I collapsed into the safety of his arms. My heart pounded loudly in my ears as everything stilled.
I expected Marcus to chase his own release; to continue thrusting as my walls contracted around his dick.
But he didn’t move.
He held on to me tightly with his eyes closed and took deep, sonorous breaths. He lowered his head to rest his forehead on mine. “A perfect fit,” he whispered.
Chapter Eight
Marcus
My head felt trapped beneath a hydraulic press.
What the hell was I thinking ingesting all that wolfsbane?
I hadn’t been that reckless since Ethan and I were teenagers. Young and stupid. No responsibilities of our own—but all the perks that came as future alpha and beta.
I thought Ethan had changed, that his love for power fell second to his love for duty and the promises we made to our pack…
But his greed made him weak. And that weakness had cost him his life.
I fought hard for him for a month before his death. The elders wanted him punished for disappearing for days and coming home drunk. But he was my beta. My best friend. And I was their alpha.
Joanna’s eyes widened when I didn’t react to Ethan’s name last night. I could pretend and say his betrayal no longer bothered me, that his joining the uprising destroyed the love I had for the wolf I’d once considered a brother. But how longcould I keep lying to myself when I felt like a piece of shit for wanting to spit on his grave because he’d tasted her? Beeninsideher? That he’d known what it felt like to hear her moan his—
