Page 19 of Beta's Virgin Bride

I wanted to reach for him, to feel his body weighing me down. As if he sensed it or needed the same, he stood, ripping his jeans wide, freeing his erection and bringing it to where I still pulsed with pleasure. He fed the length into me, pushing hard and deep. He grabbed my legs, helping me wrap them around him then bent over me, treating each breast to a sucking kiss before zeroing in on my lips.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled then plunged his tongue into my mouth.

He rode me hard, and I reveled in every fierce possession. He owned me in that moment, and we both knew it. My nails scored his shoulders, my heels pressing into the small of his back as he pounded my sex. I came again, shuddering under him.

“That’s it, baby. Drown my cock. Squeeze it. Let me see how good I make you feel. I can still taste you on my tongue.” He licked his lips. “Like the sweetest ambrosia I’ve ever found. Your pussy’s my favorite treat, and I’m a glutton when it comes to eating what I love.” He slammed deep, his groin pressing tightly against mine. “I’m going to come. Going to fill you up with me. I’m going to pull my dick out and coat you in my cream. Rub it in your skin.”

His words painted erotic pictures. Pictures I liked. Pictures I wanted.

“Yeah, you like that,” he crooned. “I can feel how much my words excite you.”

I pulled my head up, nipping his jaw. “Do it,” I challenged.

He stood up, sliding his palms under my ass and holding me up. He took me harder, faster, growls rumbling from his chest. I lay flat, watching his face as he worked his way to orgasm. He brought his thumb to his mouth, sucked it then reached down where we were joined and pressed on my clitoris. I came again, clamping down on his pistoning cock and milking it.

He came with a roar, flooding me with his semen. True to his promise, he pulled out, gripping the shaft with his palm and jerking the rest of his release over my belly and thighs. When he was empty, he braced his palms outside my hips on the table.

“Christ, woman. The things you do to me.”

“That was all you,” I countered. He’d thoroughly ravaged me, and I’d enjoyed every moment of it. I’d gone from virgin to wanton in one fell swoop. I slid my eyelids closed, trembling in the aftermath.

Sex. I more than enjoyed it. I was already anticipating the next time he’d take me, possess me. I wanted to ride him. I wanted him to take me from behind. I wanted to take him in my mouth and suck every drop of pleasure from him as he had me. I wanted it all, and the wanting terrified me.

Cyan straightened, tucking his cock back in his jeans but leaving them unzipped and open. He picked me up, lifting me against his chest and heading back toward my bedroom.

“I need a nap,” he vowed with a groan.

“Mmm,” I agreed. I also needed a shower, but it would take me a little longer before my legs were ready to work.

He placed me gently on the bed then moved to my bathroom. I heard him running water, heard the flush of the toilet and swore I’d open my eyes any minute and head that way. The next thing I felt was a warm cloth running over my skin. I blinked my heavy eyelids open and watched Cyan clean his seed off my skin. He tossed the washcloth aside then lifted me again, jerked the covers back and slid us both underneath.

I tried to put some distance between us, rolling onto my side, facing away from him, but he followed me, pressing his bare skin against my back. One arm slid under my pillow while the other wrapped around my waist, pulling me more snugly against him. He placed a kiss against the back of head, gave a sigh and settled into the bed. I needed to think, to figure out what was happening, but exhaustion crashed over me.

When we awoke, we took a long leisurely shower together, and Cyan made love to me again against the slick tile. I was ready to crawl back in bed with him, but he insisted we were going out. I threw on my favorite pair of skinny jeans with boots and an off-the-shoulder peasant top. Cyan whistled when I joined him, and I did a doubletake at his change of clothes.

“When did you go out for those?”

“I had one of the pack drop off a bag for me,” he said, snagging my hand and pulling me to him.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked as he shepherded me out of the house toward his SUV.

“An out-of-the-way place we found when we first arrived in the area. We’ve pretty much taken it over now.”

I knew by “we” he meant the James pack. We made small talk the whole way there, with him telling me stories about everyone in his pack. I shared stories of growing up with Raina and Rowan, of when Jasmine was born, of going to school while having a newborn baby to take care of. I almost asked if he wanted children but stopped myself in time. That was a question for his mate to ask him, and as much as I craved him, as hard as I was falling for him, I still feared my inability to be the mate he deserved.

The music was loud when we stepped inside the bar, the dance floor already packed. I was practically vibrating as the bass hit me, seeming to travel from the floor into my body. A woman with long, dark hair and pale-blue eyes seemed to practically skip across the room toward us.

“You must be Ivy,” she enthused, lifting on her toes to plant a kiss on Cyan’s jaw. “I was hoping for a chance to meet you. We’re going to be the best of friends.”

I barely held back my growl. My claws wanted to come out and gouge the woman’s lips off. I glanced at Cyan then back at the other woman. Who was she? And why the hell was she acting so chummy with Cyan?

“This dynamo is Belinda James—”

“Bee,” she interrupted.

“Bas’ younger sister,” Cyan continued.

“Come dance with me,” she urged, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the crowded floor. I glanced back at Cyan, unsure what to do. I was good with getting her away from him, though.

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