Page 92 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

Sex Pest

— Tomas —

Sunday is draped across both our laps, her body relaxed, but the exhaustion in her posture is undeniable. I brush a tear-damp strand of hair away from her face, my fingers gentle against her flushed skin. Her eyes are half-closed, the weight of fatigue softening her features. She smells incredible, and my wolf stirs restlessly, urging me to get closer. He wants to run his nose over her skin, especially where traces of Gray’s blood may have dripped and pooled.

Gray continues to gently massage her ass and legs, his touch tender, almost reverent.

I pull her into my chest, my cheek resting on her head as I press a soft kiss to her hair—my beautiful, brave girl. My fingers trace the tracks of tears on her cheeks, wiping them away. Goddess, she’s strong. It’s hard to explain what it feels like when your sub takes a punishment with so much grace and heart.

Pleasure and pain often walk hand in hand when I’m guiding her. But true punishment is different. There’s no sweetness tangled with the sting, no shared edge of bliss.

I won’t lie—some part of me enjoys watching my handprints bloom red on her skin, the little grunt of surprise when I land it just right and steal her breath, when the only thing in her world is the sensations I’m pulling from her body. The intimacy of that connection might run deeper than sex itself. But I don’t want to see her struggle, I don’t want to know she’s burdened.

If I could, I’d strip away every shred of misery she might ever carry. But I know this was necessary. She needed this release. We needed it—to address the uncertainty her actions left behind and absolve her of it.

I press another kiss to her hair, my voice a rough whisper. “You did so well, Princess. I’m so damn proud of you.”

Her lips curl into a soft smile, her body settling deeper into my hold. The storm has passed, leaving a profound calm in its wake. But she deserves more than calm. She deserves joy, pleasure—whatever she wants.

I tilt her chin up, meeting her gaze. “You took your punishment, Trouble. Now it’s time for a reward.”

Her lashes flutter, surprise flickering in her eyes. “A reward?”

I smirk, leaning in until our foreheads almost touch. “You earned it. Tell us what you want.”

She hesitates for a heartbeat, her eyes darting between Grayson and me. There’s heat simmering beneath the surface, but also a flicker of uncertainty. I cup her cheek, my thumb stroking gently to ground her.

“No need to be shy. Just say it. There’s not a whole lot we wouldn’t do for you.” The words slip out easily, but the truth rumbles beneath them—I can’t think of a single fucking thing I’d deny her.

She draws in a breath, confidence sparking in her eyes as she meets my gaze head-on. “I want both of you.” Her teasing smile blooms, but her voice softens. “And there’s something else…”

Curiosity hums in my chest. “Anything. Just say it.”

Her gaze flicks between us, heat smoldering beneath her bravado. “I want to see you kiss… each other. And for the record, yes, you both just lit the fuck up. I wouldn’t be asking otherwise.”

I expect resistance from Gray—hesitation, maybe revulsion. But there’s none. Just the undeniable truth settling into place. On some level, we both want this.

A low growl rumbles in my chest. My wolf rises, ready to finally, finally get his paws on his mate. My hand moves to Grayson’s jaw, rough and commanding. His eyes widen in surprise, but I don’t ask permission.I take.

Our mouths collide, the kiss fierce and demanding. Heat sears through me, a wild jolt that steals my breath. He meets me with equal intensity, a growl vibrating low in his throat as his fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. He tastes like coming home, he feel like a part of me finally returning.

I almost wish he didn’t. I almost wish the knowledge of the corruption of my fated bond had released me from this. But this moment just drives it home—Grayson is mine. He tastes like mine, smells like mine, and when he softens for me, all I can think about is the wasted years it took to get here.

His fangs snap down reflexively, grazing my lip—a warning, or maybe a sign he’s coming apart the same way I am. He pulls back slightly, eyes blazing with unnameable heat. My wolf snarls, dominance flaring hot. He’s not getting away.Not happening.

I grip his neck and drag him back in. Teeth clash, tongues duel, dominance and submission tangling in a volatile dance. We’re both too stubborn to lose. I’m sure we look ridiculous, but this is how it has to be—two Alphas testing each other, seeing who’ll blink first, who wants it more.

But then, something shifts. The aggression smooths into something deeper, sharper. His grip loosens a fraction, and I match it. Our mouths find a rhythm—still fierce, still testing, but balanced. A truce forged in fire and friction. Finally, I can breathe. Finally, I can marvel at this thing I never expected to have.

My wolf is over the fucking moon, sending me visions of biting Gray, bonding him, hunting by his side. As if Grayson Marchese would ever run down rabbits in the forest.

A surprised giggle bubbles up beside us. “Oh,” Sunday breathes, half-delighted, half-awed. “I didn’t expect that much… enthusiasm.”

We break apart, breathing hard, eyes locked. My thumb brushes his jaw, a fleeting touch that steadies me. A shared understanding crackles between us.

“Did that hit the spot, Trouble?” She blushes, the scent of her arousal a tangible presence in the room. “Was it everything you imagined?”

Yeah, I’m pretending this was for her, when, as usual, she was thinking about us.

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