Page 51 of Broken

Chapter 21

The bottom dropped out of Ireland’s stomach, and she wrapped her arms tightly around Cole so she wouldn’t go flying off into space.

He tasted amazing, wild and wolfy and delicious, like something forbidden and yet familiar. She drank in his scent, heard her wolf growl, and felt electricity sizzling through her body.

Cole nibbled on her lower lip, gave it a tiny bite, and then soothed it with his tongue. Ireland whimpered, wanting more.

His hand was up under her sweatshirt, cupping her breast. She didn’t have a bra, since hers had been destroyed, and there was nothing between her skin and his hand. He teased her nipple with his thumb, smiling against her lips when he felt it harden.

His mouth moved down the side of her neck, kissing and tasting and biting. Every bite sent another shiver down her spine, uncurling something inside her she’d never known was there.

She wanted more.

Ireland pushed up against Cole, moving her hand up under his shirt, tracing the taut muscles of his back, scratching it lightly with her fingernails.

His growl grew louder, so she pushed his shirt up and kissed his chest, running her tongue around his nipple and then giving it a little bite.

“I love bitey women,” he murmured, so she did it again—a tiny bit harder.

He laughed. “Vixen.” He lifted her up, arms under her butt, so she had to wrap her legs around him, putting their hips on a level. He was huge and hard inside his pants, making her gasp, and he deliberately ground his hips against hers, his shaft between her open legs, pressing on her sweet spot.

Ireland moaned. “Do that again.”

He did it again, harder, his eyes going golden at her reaction.

The wolf.

She nipped his neck.

He carried her over to the mattress and laid her down, then stood, looking down at her with his legs splayed, the huge bulge nearly bursting out of his pants.

The sight of him standing over her, hot and sexy and dominant, sent a rush of wetness between her legs.

A voice inside her said, want.

Ireland sat up and walked her hand over the mattress and up his leg, unzipping his pants and pulling them down.

“Commando,” she said. Like Boomer had warned her about. “I like that.”

His dick sprang free and she wrapped her hand around it, giving it a long stroke. He growled, his eyes growing more golden. She licked the tiny drop off the tip of his shaft, and took him into her mouth.

He swayed a little on his feet, giving a soft groan. She smiled up at him, pulling back and running her teeth ever so lightly down the length of his shaft. Not quite enough to hurt. That got a tiny sexy snarl.

“Bad girl,” he said. “No teeth.”

She did it once more to tease him, and then took his shaft in her mouth again, farther, running her tongue around it.

She sucked on him, moving her head in and out. With another snarl, he wrapped his fist in her hair, holding it tightly but not—quite—hurting.

It gave her an exciting little frisson of fear, knowing he could immobilize her and take control, give her more than she could take.

But he let her set the pace, looking down at her with those feral eyes, his muscles bunching as he moved his hips.

It made her so wet, watching him watch her.

Finally he gave a shudder and pulled away from her, dropping to his knees and taking off her sweatshirt and his. He pushed her back onto the mattress and took the top of her sweatpants in his teeth, pulling them down and then shoving them off her legs.

He was on her again at once, sliding his hands up the backs of her thighs, cupping her butt, kissing her hip, her stomach, her breast, her lips.