Page 61 of The Dark Rising
No.
“Why don’t I just go to a different room? That way you can have your own bed back without me complaining thatyourefuse to let me have my own space.”
Since the first time, he’s gotten into bed with me every night, refusing to leave no matter how many times I try to get him to. I even went for his balls last night and tried to bite him, but the fucker doesn’t go anywhere. And when I try to leave the bed, he just cages me within his arms and laughs at me like I’m fucking cute when I’m fighting for my freedom. I don’t stop trying to get out of his arms until I’ve exhausted myself and he always makes the same, smug sound in the back of his throat when I relent.
Asshole.
“Not happening, little wolf.” He begins to undo the towel around his waist, and it drops to the floor with a wet slap. I try very hard to not look down, so hard that my eyes start to sting, because I know he’s now completely naked. I’ve seen a man naked plenty of times with them being wolves, but seeing Darius is like looking upon something extraordinary, and I hate that I feel that way. He smirks and licks his lips, knowing the effect he has on me, and I internally scoff at how my body is attuned to his, how it remembers his touch. The way he turned me inside out the last time we were naked together. “I could always do other things to make you pliant when we go to bed.”
I blush, letting out a shaky breath and pretending he can’t see how my nipples harden, or smell my arousal. It’s a reminder of how he once owned my body during my heat, making me experience something I never have before. An orgasm would be nice, we have been somewhat cordial, but I haven’t forgotten what he did to me. I don’t want him touching my body like that, not after the way he hurt me.
Only right now, I really fucking do. He’s been touching me for days, especially during the night. One time I woke up laying on his chest and one of his hands was under the back of my t-shirt, the other on my ass, holding it possessively. I tried to move but he just gave my ass a good squeeze and drew me closer. So damn close, there was not a part of me that wasn’t touching him. Thankfully, the t-shirt covers the front of me, but I still felt his hardness against my stomach.
He smirked at me the rest of that day when we woke up and I pretended I didn’t feel how hard he was and every night since, I have ended up laying on top of him somehow.
“Not happening,” I answer him, clearing my throat.
“Then let’s go to bed and no complaints, those are my terms.” I look away as he walks to his side of the bed, naked as the moon drawing the furs back to get in. I huff and climb in next to him, staring at the ceiling and pulling the furs up to my chin.
The room is stifling with tension, and I wiggle around, trying to get comfy while holding on to the furs tightly. He shifts next to me, and I see his head turn toward me out of the corner of my eye. I’m restless, and I squeeze my thighs together. The sensation that causes doesn’t help me one bit.
Dammit.
“Settle,” he says.
“I’m trying,” I grit out, wiggling again.
“Fuck it,” he mutters, and then two hands are on my waist and I’m flattened on a hard, warm chest. The breath rushes from me as I scramble to get off him, but his hands land on my waist, keeping me to him in a tight grip.
“Wha-what are you doing?” I ask, hating how my voice has become breathless as I stay as still as possible, not daring to move. Not wanting to acknowledge his hard cock beneath me, right where his t-shirt covers me between my legs.
I shiver, and wetness rushes from me, making my cheeks heat. I push on his solid chest to move, but Darius releases a soft groan and my eyes snap to him. He’s not looking at me though. No. He’s looking between my thighs, like he can see through the material.
He licks his lips, and his eyes slowly come up to mine, dark and heated and my chest heaves. He squeezes my waist and rocks me forward once, making me release a choked sound as his cock slides through my folds and nudges my clit.
I claw my fingers into his chest. “Dar—.”
“I can feel how wet you are for me,” he says in a low tone. “It’s soaking through my t-shirt, making it smell of both you and me.” Another roll, and he grunts. “I’ve been smelling your arousal for days. I told myself I wouldn’t touch, I would wait until you made it clear what you want.” He rocks me back, and then forward once again, and I tremble, my fingers digging into his chest. “But feeling you coating my cock through my t-shirt with how wet you are for me, that’s enough of a sign that you want me. My patience has ran out, little wolf, now more than ever I need to feel you,” he groans as he continues to move me, his head falling back. “Do you think about me? How I shoved my cock so deep inside you and made you scream?”
“No,” I moan as he releases my waist and pulls the t-shirt up. He hisses as my pussy meets his cock and it’s instantly wet. He moves his hips, moving his cock against me, the tip nudging my clit again. I squeeze my thighs on either side of him.
“You’re a little liar, little wolf.” He continues to rock me over his cock, and I’m unable to be quiet. Fuck, why does it feel so good. My nails scratch his skin, drawing blood that makes him release a deep groan as he watches how he moves me.
The sound of his groan does something to me and my eyes flutter shut. Not wanting to, but relishing that I’m doing this with him. Me. His cock is warm and wet from me, and a deep internal instinct preens at this fact as much as I don’t want it to. The fact that he’s covered in my scent.
One of his hands leaves my hip, but he urges me to continue rocking with his other hand, and I do, unable to help myself at how good it feels. He trails his hand down to my thigh as I glide back and forth, goosebumps peppering my skin at his touch. It’s been so long, so, so long since I felt something good.
I just wanted to feel something good.
His hand moves the bottom of my t-shirt up and drags it over my head, I lift my arms to help him as his heated stare devours every inch of me as he throws it off to the side. Cool air hits my skin, adding to the sensations flowing through me as I place my hands back on his chest, ready to have the euphoria that I know will come. But then I freeze, remembering who this is, what he’s seeing. He’s seeing me naked after he saw me and all my scars. Seeing me naked outside of my heat.
His eyes flick up to my wide ones, and I scramble to move off of him, needing to get away, needing to stop this madness. But he sits up with ease, pulling me further on his lap as he grasps my chin in his hand. “Don’t do that,” he says, pulling me flush against him. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed in all my years,” he murmurs softly. His green eyes are nothing but truthful, like he fully believes what he’s saying. He shakes my chin a little. “Scars and all, little wolf. Seen or hidden.” He leans forward and runs his nose up the side of my neck, and I grip his shoulders, holding myself steady. “Make no mistake that I desire you. That I want to own every sliver of your skin, that I want to infiltrate you and tear down every barrier that I know you have built to survive, and don’t doubt, Rhea, that will happen.” He moves his hand from my hip and moves his head out from the crook of my neck. His gaze moves to my forearm, trailing his fingertips down to the middle and circling there as his eyes come back to mine. My breath catches in my throat. “When I’m fully within you, in every part of you, as you will no doubt be within me because I demand nothing less, you will know you will never need those barriers ever again, never against me.”
“Darius,” I say, confused on how we got here and his words.
He smiles. “I will be a barrier for you, shielding you, protecting you, keeping you safe.” He brings my arm up and kisses the center of my forearm, his lips are warm and so gentle. “I won’t let you go. I won’t see you walk away from me and go back into hiding. You will be by my side, always.”
“No.” I shake my head, refusing to hear this, refusing to want and need and hate the idea. He will crush me, I have to remember that, remember how he held that whip in his hands and let it fly through the air to hurt me. “Don’t,” I plead, my voice cracking.
