Page 90 of Heart of Frost and Scars

The man views every argument as an opportunity to fuck my brains out. He also has endless stamina and won’t stop until I’m unstrung, soaked in come, and too exhausted to argue.

“No.” I shove out of his hold and circle the couch. “I’m not rewarding you for being an absolute savage.”

“Punish me then.” Prowling after me, he unzips his jeans and frees his tree-trunk cock. “Sink those sharp little teeth into me.”

Dear God in heaven, how do I say no to that? My gums tingle. My skin sizzles, and my pussy throbs like a clenching fist.

But I have to be strong.

If I don’t stand up to him, to all of them, they’ll walk all over me with their jealous tempers and raging dicks.

“I know you’re trying to protect me, but this isn’t the way.” I scuttle backward, chased into the kitchen, while sidestepping his irresistible hands. “We need to find a better way to deal with this.”

That doesn’t deter him in the least. With his cock jutting like a goddamn weapon, he’s hard and feral and wants to fuck me with all that possessive fury.

As he corners me against the counter, every ounce of me wants to surrender to his animalistic sex drive. Letting this gorgeous beast nail me when he’s angry would be the greatest sex of my life.

Don’t give in. Be strong.

“You can’t fix this with orgasms.” I duck my head, dodging his snapping jaws.

“Not fixing it, woman. Just getting us to a place where we can.” His eyes are wild, his breathing heavy, but there’s a tinge of something else beneath the jealous rage. Something fragile and haunting. “He’s not just your therapist. I saw it in his eyes.”

The desperate edge to his voice, the fear on his face, the lifetime of trauma and pain welted across his back, it’s all there, choking him, tunneling his vision.

When he reaches for me again, I expect him to bend me over the counter. Instead, he wraps me up in a crushing hug, his muscles shaking and his grip so damn tight he squeezes the anger out of me.

“My beautiful, savage caveman.” I cup his granite jaw and bring our foreheads together. “I’m yours. You and Leo and me, we’re bonded. Mated for life. Denver couldn’t divide us. Hoss couldn’t break us. No one can take this from us.”

I have to be strong for everyone else.

“I don’t like the way he touches you.”

“I’m yours.” I kiss his angry lips.

“He intends to take you.”

“I’m yours.” I unbutton my jeans and push them down my hips.

“I can’t let him hurt you.” He yanks my arms behind my back and pins me against his chest.

“I’m yours.” I hold his gaze, letting him scour my features until he sees my truth.

Releasing me, he lowers to the floor and pulls my clothes down with him. My jeans, underwear, shoes—everything comes off. While he undresses my lower half, I remove my shirt and bra.

His ascent back up my body is an unhurried climb as he drags his scorching tongue in one long lick from feet to breasts, making me shiver and squirm.

By the time he reaches my mouth, I’m drenched between my legs, out of breath, and aching to be impaled. His cock is so hard the veins strain beneath the skin.

Taking my face in his hands, he angles my head and crushes my mouth with his. His tongue doesn’t ask. It demands, invading and claiming with brutal force.

I don’t give it to him. I make him take it. And holy fuck, he does. It’s primal. It’s raw. It’s the very nature of the untamed wilderness that lives in our veins.

He jams his fingers between my legs, driving them deep and working me into a moaning, writhing tangle of useless limbs.

“More.” I gasp into his mouth.

But he’s already doing it, replacing his hand with his massive cock. He’s so unnaturally huge and stiff that I tense, knowing what’s coming.

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