Page 48 of Grim

“Y-yes,” she said hesitantly. My wolf grunted, knowing she wasn’t truly ready to take our knot, but we were happy she sought pleasure from our cock.

“Shh, just feel me,” I cooed. “Feel my desire for you. For who you are, for who you are to me.”

My cryptic words didn’t faze her. Journey was becoming lost in the bond she wouldn’t understand. Her body, her soul was becoming familiar with mine. The bond was strengthening, pulling us tight like a rubber band, ready to snap if we did not take this further. My wolf was ready to plant our seed, spurt it into her womb to permanently claim her.

“I’m climbing,” she whimpered.

I hovered over her body, I wanted to watch her come undone, to see the fire in her eyes. “Please!”

I pushed my cock to the left. Her love for the circular rhythms of my shaft pushed her over the edge. The silent scream, the wetness on her lashes, made me fall over sooner than I planned. I pushed down my boxers, letting my come fall upon her stomach. My seed continued to spill. I grunted my release. The liquid that would soon be meant for her cunt fell on her body, slipping into her navel and across her stomach.

We both panted. I stuck my cock back inside my boxers, hiding the knot that was filling again. Lasting much longer without forcibly taking her would be difficult. However, the bond would make it easier. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.

Her half-hazed eyes lingered on my lips. I touched her lips again with mine. My heart soared at the gentle pleasure of her sighs.

Journey was mine and soon, she would hold my mark and my knot, and everyone in the club would know for certain that we all might have a second chance.

Chapter Seventeen

Journey

I’mnotsurewhatjust happened.

My body took control of it all. It was as if I was watching from above. Grim’s body hovered over me, and I felt the heat of his skin.

His come was now painted on my body. He watched it pool in my navel. His fingers brushed it, smearing it up my stomach and across my chest.

The pleasant vibrations from his chest soothed me. The cracked window brought in fresh, cold air, and it made my nipples harden once more.

I have never had someone come on me. Condoms were a must to protect the merchandise and to protect the customers. Customers knew we were passed around. I was extra grateful for the implant in my arm to keep me from getting pregnant. I was so drugged up some days, I couldn’t tell if everyone followed the rules or not.

Pregnant merchandise meant worthless merchandise.

Grims heated eyes stared at the painting he was making with his fingers. I didn’t feel at all repulsed by it, and part of me felt turned on and more in tune with him.

He wasn’t disgusted by me, jumping up and pulling on his pants to leave. He was cradling me with his body, tracing his finger around the curve of my breast, memorizing every line.

“I’m sorry,” his voice rasped, still painting swirls into my skin. “I got carried away.”

I paused, thinking of what I could say. What could I say? That I didn’t like it? Because that would have been a lie. I really loved it.

When he came, there was another spark, not the one I felt on our skin when we touched, but in his eyes. He pulled me in—a feeling I had never felt before in my life. A deep connection that I couldn’t ignore no matter how much my mind was telling me to run away.

“Don’t be,” I reached out, pushing away his thick hair. It had fallen out of his braid and brushed his bearded cheek. “I’m not.”

And I should be, because this man gave me my first orgasm, one I hadn’t given myself. Not that I had had a real orgasm like that, ever. Usually, they were fake and well planned.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as he leaned in for a kiss. He leaned into me, not caring if he covered himself with his own arousal.

He really enjoyed kissing. Hell, I did too. It was a new concept to me, and he was fantastic at it. For a man so rough around the edges, wait, scratch that, he was rough all over. Grim was gentle and watched his hands and movements when he was around me like I was fragile.

He and I both knew I wasn’t fragile. However I was beat up and broken, but he indulged me and wanted to take care of me for some reason. Like I was something so precious, he didn’t want me to break. I liked it, and I was going to let it continue for as long as it lasted, because time was never certain, and he could tire of me easily. Most men did.

After showering, I dressed in a pair of dark wash skinny jeans and a white sweater. He brushed my hair meticulously. He didn’t want me lifting a finger, and he had a hard time deciding whether to brush my hair or feed me. I snorted, watching how his eyes glanced between the brush and the fork. I shook my head playfully at his hard scowl.

Luckily, brushing my own hair lost out, and he fed me. That seemed more important to him than “grooming” me, as he put it.

Grooming, the bed he called a nest, and the meat he ate raw raised more questions. He was definitely different from other men. I couldn’t put my finger on it. To the untrained eye, he looked like a biker, a mean one at that. Grim was the enforcer from what I gathered. The undeniable rage he held he kept inside him. Like another person or thing. This persona only came out when he was protecting me. I’d seen people get killed, even other cam girls, but the way Grim slaughtered Aedar with such force and rage, it was unworldly.

---