Page 42 of Blood of Vengeance

Wanting to bury myself in sensation, I pushed off the wall and let my head drop into the water. I kept one arm raised to hold myself up, but I let my head drop until the water covered my ears. Until I couldn’t hear the white noise of the day around me. All I could hear was the sound of Flinch moving through the water, my heartbeat, and a wall of pressure that intensified everything else. I closed my eyes and shut down two of my senses. All I wanted in that moment was to feel. To give my body over to him. I wanted to be owned by him.

And he somehow knew that.

“Just keep floating, beautiful,” he said, his voice a muffled murmur underwater. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll make this pretty pussy happy.”

And he did. He started slow and smooth, just one finger teasing its way in and out until he had me slippery. Then he added a second. And a third. Pressing his thumb on my clit and increasing the sensation. Something about the dichotomy of the coolness of the water and the heat of his hand stole all my focus, allowing me to drop into a space of pure pleasure and sensation instead of worrying about things like staying afloat or if someone might come into the backyard. I had no worries with Flinch—he would make sure I stayed above the water. He would keep me safe from other people. He would pleasure me right there in his pool, and all I needed to do was let him.

“More,” I cried and popped my ears above water. Unable not to arch my entire body as those three fingers sat deep, as they bent and curved and touched spots inside me that made me jump. As he pressed that thumb relentlessly against my clit, causing explosions of sensation all over my body. “Flinch, I need more.”

“Fuck, your pussy is a greedy bitch, isn’t it? Sucking my fingers in like this. I can’t wait to get my cock inside her.” He growled low and returned to my nipple, sucking hard. Biting. Laving the pool water from my skin. The hand under my back flexed and clung, still holding me up but obviously wanting more, just like me. We needed a flat, dry surface, fewer clothes, and time. Lots of time to explore each other. We had none of that, though.

“Flinch,” I said again, reaching for him. Losing myself to the sensations he wrought. The man didn’t answer. Instead, he relaxed the hand under my back. Letting me fall slightly deeper into the water. Letting the coolness cover my ears. Sounds both disappeared and surrounded me, the world outside the two of us gone. But under there, I could hear his hand moving. Could tell every time he pushed inside my body, not from the feel but the waves he caused. The vibrations. Flinch had dropped me into a sensation chamber where nothing mattered but what that hand was doing between my legs, and I loved it. Sank into it. Gave myself over to it.

Surrendered.

With a long, hard press of his thumb and one last thrust inside me with his fingers, Flinch growled. Not low or quiet—he practically roared. The sound made the vibrations in the water explode, made my entire body feel the power behind it. I sat on the precipice of coming to his voice, to the sound of his wolf. My pussy squeezing his fingers and every muscle locking into place. Held there on the edge, not falling, not surrendering. Knowing my release was right there but edging slightly as I waited to be pushed over.

“That’s my good fucking girl,” Flinch said, his voice distorted and his words hard to hear, but hear them, I did. I crashed at the sound, coming around his fingers. Coming while surrounded by him—his body, his voice, his wolf’s growl. All of it. I couldn’t have escaped him if I’d wanted to, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay right there, wrapped in pleasure. Falling apart and letting him put me back together again.

As everything came back online—as my body relaxed and reality began to intrude on my thoughts—Flinch grabbed me and lifted me. Tugging me into his arms as he moved us through the water. Pressing me against the side of the pool and grinding his cock between my legs as he growled into my neck. As he bit down, his body tense as if holding back.

I didn’t want him holding back.

“I want you,” I whispered, clinging to him. Rocking my hips against his. “Take me inside, and let me make you feel good.”

He huffed a sound like a laugh, collapsing against me. Biting a little harder before kissing my neck. Licking me slow and long as if savoring the taste on his tongue.

“If I take you inside, we’re not coming out for days.” He pulled back, staring down at me, those light eyes much darker and hotter than I’d ever seen them as he brought his hand to his mouth. The same one that had been between my legs. The one likely covered in my juices. He kept eye contact as he licked his fingers, growling low. His stomach vibrating against me and making me squirm. “Cherries. Just like I thought. Fuck, short stack—a man could live on the taste of you.”

I laughed, unable not to. “Flinch?—”

“When I take you to bed for the first time, I’m not doing it with a clock ticking on us. The club’s not done hunting, and I have to get back out there soon.” He leaned closer, letting his lips brush against my cheek. “When I get you naked and alone, I’m not going to be able to think about anything but that sweet pussy and making you scream my name a hundred times. Right now, I don’t have that luxury.”

I sighed, understanding but still annoyed. “Fine, but I owe you.”

He chuckled, grabbing my hand and kissing the palm of it. “You don’t owe me shit, short stack. I’m a two-for-one type of guy. Two for you, one for me. I still owe you one before I let you touch me.”

I kissed him, unable not to. Tangling my tongue with his as he pressed me harder into the wall. As his cock teased me through his jeans. Nothing about the moment felt super comfortable, but I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Wouldn’t have let that man out of my hold just because the concrete scratched my back or the denim felt rough. He was rough—and I liked him that way.

“Okay,” he said, pulling away. Taking a deep breath before refocusing on me. “We need to get out of this pool, and you need to get dressed before my dick takes over the thinking.”

I slipped a hand between us, smiling up at him. “Maybe I want your dick to be the one thinking.”

He grabbed my wrist, raising an eyebrow at me as he dragged my hand up his body to kiss my palm once again. “When it’s my turn, I want those dick-sucking lips, not your fingers.” He leaned in for a kiss before pushing off the wall and walking toward the steps out of the pool. “Though I’ll definitely take what I can get.”

“You can get it all.”

He groaned, his hands gripping me tighter. “Bad fucking timing, short stack. We’ve got some bad fucking timing.”

He set me down then grabbed a dry towel from a stack by the back door, bringing me one and drying me off with it before wrapping it around me like a blanket. He took another and rubbed it roughly over his head and face, not even bothering with attempting to dry his sodden clothes.

“You going to strip out here, or are you taking the show inside?” I asked, grinning up at him as I grabbed the waistband of his jeans and pulled.

“Smartass,” he said with a laugh. “You take yourself inside and hop in the shower. I don’t need you getting all dickmatized when I strip off these jeans.”

I found his arrogance far more charming than I probably should have. “You think what you’ve got will dickmatize me?”

He growled again, the sound making my clit throb, goose bumps rising all over my body. Fuck, I remembered that sound. In the pool. Ears under water. With his hand…

---