Page 10 of The Ballerina

Her small hand wraps around the girth of my cock, nearly bringing me to my knees.

“I’ve never actually been in a relationship. But isn’t make-up sex the only good part about fighting?”

“I’ve heard that.” The words are low as I revel in the pleasure from her ministrations.

I watch her lower herself to her knees and my vision swims with desire. She is a fucking picture of sensuality, kneeling before me, water running in rivulets down her breasts. Fuck. She is perfect.

With her hands on my thighs, she takes my length into the wet heat of her mouth, and I have to fight the orgasm that wants to overwhelm me. My left hand slaps against the tile, the sound echoing off the walls as I fight to remain standing while my other hand cups her face gently.

“I can’t be gentle right now,” I confess staring into her beautiful green eyes. “I thought you wanted to leave and then I made you cry with my stupid jealousy. I’m on edge.”

She lets my cock slip from between her lips, spittle clinging to the angry red crown.

“What if I don’t want gentle?”

“Sweetness…” the words leave me in a broken whisper, my cock already angling for entrance back between her lips. “Be careful what you wish for.”

Fisting her hair in my hand, I hold her head in place as I thrust into her mouth. The crown of my cock hits the back of her throat, and she gags. The feel of her mouth clamping on mylength drives me insane and I thrust harder.

Her hands are still on my thighs, her gaze glued to my face as I stare down at her, the spray of the shower hitting my back. She doesn’t try to stop me or pull away as I force more of my length down her throat. My balls hit her chin, and I close my eyes in bliss. The moment her hands leave my thighs, I open my eyes, fearing that I’ve hurt her. Instead, I get to see my perfect little mate play with her supple tits.

I pull back before thrusting in, harder than before. Cathy doesn’t gag again. No, she moans like a goddess. Like a goddamn bitch in heat.

“Do you like me using you, sweetness?” I ask on another thrust. “Are you my little slut?”

She threatened to rip out my throat if I ever treated her like a whore, but this isn’t the same. My mouth is running away from me and by the sounds falling from her lips, she is loving it.

One of her hands slips between her spread thighs and I can’t take it anymore. I rip my cock from between her lips, harshly picking her up from the floor and pinning her to the wall. She doesn’t get the chance to protest before I shove my cock inside her.

The thought of coming down her throat holds potential but only once I know I’ve bred her. Until then, every drop of my seed will be planted deep inside her perfectly delicious little pussy. I will flood her womb every chance I get until she is swollen with my child.

“Atlas!”

“Fuck.” The word falls from my lips unbidden. “Touch yourself,” I demand.

Her hand slips between us, flicking the hard nub of her clit. I can feel her walls starting to shudder with each thrust of my hips. We fuck each other, chasing our bliss and using each other’s bodies.

My cock kicks, splashing her womb with my seed as my knot swells and locks us in place. My mate continues to play with her clit, prolonging her orgasm and milking my knot to the point where my vision goes black for a second.

“Oh my God,” she moans in pleasure.

“No, sweetness. It’s just me.”

Chapter Nine

Cathy

Three days later and my belongings have arrived from the Clover pack just in time for the date night Atlas has planned. I spend an hour in the bathroom scrubbing and shaving every inch of my body. It may be our first date, so to speak, but I know how this night will end. With me riding Atlas’s cock. Again.

Not that I haven’t been doing it whenever we get the opportunity. But tonight is special and I want to look and feel my best for my mate.

From my suitcase, I pick out a set of baby pink lingerie that I know makes my skin look even more milky than it is. I have come to realize that Atlas has a thing about leaving little marks all over me. From slapping my ass to sucking my skin, he loves seeing the evidence of our passion on my body.

My wolf preens in the back of my mind, ready to bend over and take it like a good girl. Horny mutt. She’ll have to wait. First, we go to dinner.

“How am I supposed to let you out of the house if you look like that?” Atlas asks when he walks into our room.

He steps up behind me where I am applying my makeup, pushes my curls aside, and kisses a line from my ear to the mating mark that shows predominantly on my clavicle. The strap of my emerald green cocktail dress gets pushed down my arm before I push him away.

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