Page 96 of Big Bad Bully
“You seem pretty unfazed by it.”
“It was sort of eclipsed by the fact that you were dying.” There’s a tremble in her voice that makes my heart squeeze.
The image of her tear-stained face next to mine after I shifted rises in my mind. She was worried about me. This girl who once hated me was devastated when I was hurt.
“I would never let them hurt you, Silver,” I tell her. “I will find who shot at you and rip his spine from his pelvis.”
Her eyes fly open wide. “That’s, um, scary but hot.” I scent the honey of her arousal.
Her body needs me. Just like mine needs her.
My lips twitch again. My dick lengthens for her. I push her onto her back, climbing on top of her. I’m still naked from the shift. “I’m going to fuck you now.”
She rolls her pelvis to meet mine but says, “Are you sure? I mean, are you up for it?”
“I need your pussy, Aubrey. It will help me heal.”
She lets out a breathy laugh. “I’m not sure that’s true, but okay.” She reaches for a box of condoms I left beside the bed when I escorted her here when we arrived. It feels like so long ago.
She wears a matching lavender lace cami and panty set. Now that she knows what I am, I don’t have to hold back. I grasp the hem of her panties with both hands at the top of her thigh and rent the fabric in two.
She gasps then giggles. “Oh my God! You’re super strong. It all makes sense now.”
I rip her cami straight down the front.
“I missed so many clues.”
“Like what?” I ask because I need to know where I was careless. The control freak in me has to log all potential weaknesses.
“Your strength. How you potty trained Pepper with one look. Why Madi never included me anymore.”
I roll a condom over my erection.
“I thought you were a dick, but you’re just protective of your secret.”
“No. I’m a dick,” I assure her. “Nobody would argue with you there.”
She shakes her head. “You’re not.”
I rub the head of my cock between her legs. She’s slick and ready for me. I ease in. My body’s still weak, so I don’t have that urgent drive I’ve had every other time I was with her.
I want to take my time. To just experience the incredible sensation of being inside her without the need to turn myself inside out to pleasure her and get my release.
She’s still synthesizing it all. “Madi said you’re classist. I thought it might be code for racist. But now I understand. You don’t relate to outsiders. Or what do you call people like me?”
Something akin to pain stabs at my chest. I don’t want to be the person she’s describing. I don’t like the way it feels. I usually operate without compassion for others because compassion makes it impossible to make clear decisions.
But Aubrey doesn’t sound hurt or judgmental. It’s more like she sees me–really sees me–and doesn’t flinch.
“Humans.” My voice sounds rusty. I arc in and out of her slowly, relishing the tight squeeze of her channel and the way she arches her full breasts and rocks her pelvis to take me deeper. “I was raised in a small town made up entirely of shifters. My dad was a shifter supremacist.”
Fate, am I telling this story? I never tell this story. I haven’t since I told it to Brick Freshman year at Yale.
I find her hands and pin them beside her head, interlacing my fingers with hers.
“Am I your first?” she asks.
“First what?”
