Page 23 of Defiant
But then her glare slides back into place as she turns toward me. “That was a food-induced confession. Don’t fucking act like we’re friends now.”
“Oh, we’re not, princess. Never gonna be friends with you.” I have plans to be so much more than friends.
I flick my raisin at her.
It doesn’t even make it past the first armchair near me before it falls to the ground.
I hear Elena snort.
I stomp out from behind the bar, quickly crossing the distance between us. With the tray on her lap, she’s slow to react and I get to her before she’s fully standing. I take the tray from her hands, setting it down on the floor as my face gets close to hers. Then I push her back into her seat, loving how her shoulder fits snugly into the palm of my hand. I wait, holding her in place, watching as her eyes burn and nostrils flare—my little vixen’s pissed but she doesn’t say anything. Because she knows who’s in charge.
“I have to go prepare for a meeting. When I come back, we’re going to have a little competition with these raisins.”
A smirk comes over her face and it’s so adorably diabolical. “If I win?”
I lean in close and inhale her scent one last time, letting that white chocolate sweetness fill my mind until my wolf lets out a plaintive whine inside my head. He wants her. I stare at Elena to find her eyes wide, breath caught—she’s just as enraptured by this connection as I am. I reach a hand up to stroke her hair, thrilled when she doesn’t pull away, when she inhales sharply. “Don’t worry about winning. You won’t.”
Her eyes narrow instantly and she shoves my hand away with both of hers. I straighten, chuckling. Then I walk up the basement stairs without a word. At the top, I turn and look down at her. She’s still in her seat, though she’s turned sideways to stare up at me. The expression on her face is a mixture of lust and confusion.
Or maybe I’m projecting.
I always wanted to find an omega wolf—always dreamed about it, though I never thought it would happen—the elusive, special wolf who’d satisfy my every need. But as I lock little spitfire Elena in my basement, I can’t deny that the fact that I’ve caught an omega has my chest dancing in a way that confuses the shit out of me.
Despite my confusion though, I’m certain of one thing: If I have to, I’ll make a deal with the fucking devil and sell my twisted, stained soul in order to keep her.
Elena’s mine.
9
Jonah
My stomach cringes.I’ve got that nervous-sick feeling I get when I have to present in front of a class, which I hate. It doesn’t help that my wolf is restless—he has been since Elena ran out of class hours ago. He paces inside my head, his gray fur bristled. He wants me to shift, even though I know that’s a bad idea. I might be able to sniff her out and find her quicker, but I’ve got a better chance of helping her if I stay human. My wolf’s too fucking docile to fight. Me—not so much.
I can’t believe she just left like that, clutching her stomach but full-on sprinting. I hope she’s okay.God. Nothing better have happened to her.
I pull her cell out of my pocket and stare at the black screen. I wish I wouldn’t have locked myself out of her phone trying to look for her mom’s number. Now, I’m not sure what the hell to do but keep searching campus for her. I’ve never been to her house. I could call someone in the pack and get her address but she’s told me point-blank at least a dozen times that no male beta is allowed to step foot inside her mother’s house. I keep pulling her phone and then my own out, swapping between them, hoping she’ll call one. Even just a text.
I swap her phone for my own and pull up my texts. There’s nothing new from her but I stare at our texts from last night.
My finger’s in my pussy right now.She always texts when she’s horny.
Bet you wish it was my dick.
Bet YOU wish it was your dick.
You know it. Pump that finger for me.I’d been in the living room of my cheap-ass apartment with my roommate watching Sports Center when she originally texted, but I’d quickly abandoned him and hurried to my room, a stiffie building, just like it always did whenever she was involved. I’d slammed my door a little too hard and Steve had yelled at me.
I’m fucking myself with my fingers. It feels good. Now what?She’d handed me the reins last night, which was rare. Elena typically liked to be the bossy one. She liked to shove me down and take it from me, which was fucking hot—how can a guy complain about the sight of a fine woman riding him? But every so often she got in a mood and she needed me to top her. She turned soft and compliant beneath me and I always ended up fucking her rough and hard, holding her down by her throat as I stared into her eyes—fascinated she’d trust me that much.
How wet are you?I’d typed those words as I’d tried to undo my jeans one-handed.
Pretty wet.
Smear some of that cream on your clit for me baby.I’d fallen back on my bed and fished my dick out of my boxers so I could stroke it.I wish I was there to eat you out.
As I walk down a set of stairs to a lower level of campus, I scroll, hoping a new text has popped up, but it hasn’t. Last night, our texts had devolved into pictures. She always makes me delete them after, and I killed last night’s too. But once I’ve seen something, my brain has picture-perfect recall. I remember the sight of her pale thighs spread apart, that soft pink pussy stuffed with three of her fingers, which still didn’t come close to the width of my dick. That sight had made me spurt all over my stomach yesterday.
How fucking different tonight is. Last night I was a horny wreck. Tonight I’m a nervous wreck, wondering where the hell my girl has gone and if she’s okay. I don’t know if it’s paranoia or instinct, but something tells me she’s not. And it just fucking kills me.
