Page 44 of Break The Ice

Wren wraps his arms around my thighs and drags me down to his face.

I scream. Wren doesn’t hold back. He devours me, and all I can do is sit there, struggling to keep my balance, while my world narrows down to his mouth on my pussy.

A hand on my back shoves me down, and then three thick fingers push into me. The stretch is delicious; the burn heightens everything. I’m back on the edge. I whimper, tightening and milking those fingers, while Wren sucks hard on my clit.

And, suddenly, they stop again.

I sit there in a daze, my body tingling.

Raider chuckles.

I struggle to get off them, but Wren grabs my clit, and Raider presses his fat fingers into me, curling them.

“Don’t come. If you come, the punishment will be bad.”

For what seems like hours, they edge me, teasing me with promises until I do weep, until I beg shamelessly.

At some point, when I’m sobbing and rocking my hips on Raider’s face, they decide to let me come.

I go nuclear. My release is violent, tearing through my body, tightening muscles as my core clenches and clenches again. The edges of my sight flickers, and when it’s over, I collapse, boneless, to the side of him. Wren scoops me up, kisses my lips gently, tasting of me, and then moves to Raider.

“My turn now.”

Raider pulls him down. The two of them writhe against each other, gasping until they come.

Wren gets a cloth to clean us up, but, by then, I’m almost asleep and barely able to keep my eyes open.

He chuckles. “How am I going to let you go now I’ve had a taste, convict?”

The warm words chase me into my dreams.

Chapter eleven

Ryann

I don’t often getout of bed with a guy and have instant regret. Normally, I don’t even remember them. They just vanish from my mind completely. Jeez, we didn’t even have sex!

But, no, this time, I’m living here, and I like them, and that makes a difference. It makes all the difference. So while I might not regret the experience, I deeply regret the consequences, which is essentially the same thing.

I stalk down the stairs and walk straight out to the kitchen, pulling the blind to the side and checking the street before I let it snap back.

The relief is short-lived; that hunted feeling has returned, but, to be fair, it never really left. But, this morning, it just feels like eyes on my back, shadows in the corners, movement out of the corner of my eye. I’m exhausted and regretting so many things.

“Morning.”

I almost jump out of my skin. Callan is leaning against the kitchen bench, smiling at me with a coffee in his hand.

“You’re up early,” I say in lieu of a greeting.

What could I possibly say to this alpha that he would want to hear? Sorry I let your alphas eat me to the orgasm of the century, or sorry I regret it? How about I wished you were there? No, no, none of those.

Perhaps I’m sorry for the trouble I caused with Mama Raines. Except I’m not.

Just thinking about it incenses me all over again. Yeah, I’m definitely not sorry, not at all.

I clench the cool countertop behind me and try to think of something to say that won’t upset him.

Why am I worried about upsetting him?

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