Page 58 of Blood Pack Beginning

“Don’t rush me,” he snapped back, giving her ass a slap. The sharp crack was louder than expected and apparently a turn-on, because she moaned and soaked the head of his cock butting against her sex.

He began pushing himself into her, slowly, stretching her, feeling the tight squeeze that had him throwing his head back.

He hissed when she grew impatient and shoved back against him, sheathing his fat shaft in one shot.

“Impatient wench.” He slapped her ass again, and she cried out as her pussy tightened.

He remained deeply seated and began grinding. Simply rolling his hips, letting the size of him do the job.

She panted, face down on the mattress, fingers fisting the comforter. Her hair covered her face, and so he reached down and grabbed it, giving it a tug.

Her cunt squeezed him so tight he gasped.

He held on to her hair as he rode her, giving her the occasional smack. Slamming harder and harder.

And she took it. A woman who could finally handle his passion.

The one he’d been craving his whole life.

Their tempo increased as he felt himself getting close to coming.

When her orgasm rippled, she managed to faintly cry out, “Bite me now.”

He used his fistful of hair to yank her upright, his body curving to hers while still remaining joined, his mouth finding the hollow of her shoulder.

He bit her and came the moment her blood touched his tongue. He came so hard he turned into a statue, rigid and unmoving, every atom of him exploding with pleasure.

Only as the euphoria wore off did he notice the deep marks in her flesh from his teeth, the redness on her ass checks, and he could only imagine the soreness of her scalp—and pussy.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” she growled, rolling to her back. “That was fucking amazing.” She reached for him and dragged him down for a kiss. A long leisurely one.

She whispered, “Wanna shower and see if we can go again?”

Rather than answer a dumb question, he tossed her over his shoulder and carted her into the bathroom.

Blame the pounding water and incredibly loud exhaust fan for not noticing they had company.

The first he realized it was when Sasha’s grip on his hair loosened and she whispered, “We’re not alone.”

A kneeling Amir wanted to curse whoever dared interrupt his tasty dessert. “Is it the boys?” Seemed too soon.

“I don’t think?—”

A reply cut short as the door to the bathroom was kicked open.

Nothing like being naked and wet when being attacked. Amir didn’t hesitate, though. He lunged for the bathroom exit, only to slip on wet tile. Kind of embarrassing as his feet went out from under him and he landed hard on his ass. Before he could recover, a flash bang went off, the brightness of it blinding, while the noise deafened.

Through ringing ears, he could hear shouting, and he blinked away spots to see Sasha had leapt over him and tackled the grenade thrower. Even as the scent of blood filled the air—as his lover ripped out a throat—he noticed her back covered in quivering quills.

Darts.

She went limp, and Amir roared, sprouting fur and fangs as his rage helped him to shift. He didn’t slip this time when hebolted out the door. He pounced on the first person he saw and crunched the arm they managed to put up to block him from their neck.

While he savaged the limb in reach, his body received a peppering of pricks as more darts were fired.

Too many for his adrenaline to counter.

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