Page 40 of Hayden's Haven
She wiggled forward and backward, simultaneously grinding her ass along his cock while trying to remove his hand from her pussy. It was the perfect yin and yang of sex with a shifter, the need to take control while surrendering, denying sex while teasing him. Her heart tightened with need even as she pushed away the possibility of a future with him. She needed to saynoor she’d never escape him, but saying that tiny word was hard as every part of her being wanted,needed, to submit.
A second later, he threw her face forward over the back of the sofa, forcing her hands down against the seat cushions. Before her brain could register what he was doing, he slid into her pussy with one powerful thrust. He locked his hand against the base of her neck, holding her as he pumped into her hard and fast.
The scrape of the sofa legs against the floor joined the sound of his cock pounding into her, along with several grunts. Her arms strained on either side of her head, digging into the seat cushions for leverage. Each stroke was more powerful than the last. Whatever words he growled behind her failed to make sense, as her body fought to keep up with him. Everything in her said to resist, to fight him, to kick him, but her legs were as trapped as her neck and back, and it feltso damn good.
Her body betrayed her, giving in to him all too easily as her walls tightened around him. She screamed out as the orgasm struck.
“Fuck yes,” he said as he thrust faster through her orgasm, exciting her flesh too fast for her to handle.
Too many sensations all at once crashed down on her. Stars in front of her eyes, the sound of his balls slapping against her ass, and the feel of him pounding her as every muscle in her tightened. Her body had submitted, letting the fire race through her blood at last, even as he continued to claim her.
One last powerful thrust and he draped his body over her back as his seed spilled into her. His hand remained on her neck, holding her longer than necessary, maintaining control over her, but not hurting her. Not choking, pinching, hitting, or pulling her hair out. A simple hold that demonstrated power without pain, strength without shaming her. At that moment, with his thumb caressing her neck as his hand held her, she felt protected and wanted.
Hayden released her neck. His large hand, fully splayed, gently caressed its way down her back.
She had never felt such warmth, such gentleness and love.
Then his cock slid free and his hands drew away.
She held back the whimper, the sudden emptiness and the sorrow that came with the loss of no longer having him inside her, holding her, having his body wrapped over hers.
Strong hands turned her to face him as she straightened her back. A single finger traced along her jaw and down her neck to between her breasts. “Tell me you’re mine,” he repeated without the intensity of earlier but with as much heart and determination.
She couldn’t do that to him. She was broken, in so many ways. Mila shook her head.
Hayden’s face hardened. Filled with the anger of being denied that she would not accept his claim, the wolf raged inside the man. Black eyes seared her with such intensity that she froze. Too many memories rushed back all at once.
The blond shifter who took such pride in protecting the pack took equal pride and joy in punishing her. ‘Look at another and I’ll claw your eyes out. Touch another, and I’ll bite off your fingers, one by one. Talk to another without my permission and I’ll cut out your tongue.’
“Mila?” Hayden’s voice cracked. His breath was ragged, but it was Hayden’s sweet voice that reached her ears, caressed her soul, soothed the pain of the past, and gave her hope for the future.
Calloused hands gently cupped her face, stroked her cheek as he called her name again. She couldn’t talk, not yet. Her feet moved her forward before her brain could figure out a plan of what to do, where to go, how fast she could run. His sweat, musky and highly arousing, added to that underlying clean, fresh scent of his, creating a heady mixture.
She wavered, trying to lose herself in him before she drowned in the black depths of her memories. His arms steadied her as she sank against his chest. She should have saidyes. She should have given all of herself to him. If Hayden would simply hold her for a minute, let her take in his scent and focus on the present, she’d be fine.
Blond hair dipped into his eyes as he delivered another blow to her face. A kick to her ribs with steel-toed boots. Why did an enforcer need steel-toed boots? He was careful to step on her left hand next, not her right, so she could cook for him later. She had caused this punishment, by being weak. She had prevented him from ever knowing the benefits of the blood-bond.
“Talk to me, Mila, please.” Hayden’s voice pierced the fog, and she found herself pulling away from him, slowly adjusting her bra. She looked down to her jeans on the floor, mere steps away. With a shaky hand, she reached down and grabbed her panties and pants. She nearly fell over as she stepped into the pant legs, but strong hands steadied her. He stopped talking to her, which was a shame. His voice calmed her. She wished she could tell him that, but she couldn’t talk yet. Shaky hands fumbled with the button until she finally gave up and only closed the zipper.
He threw her clothing into the fire, an attempt to humiliate her. If she dared leave without permission again, she’d do so naked, and then he’d drag her back by her hair, again. Maybe hold her hand in the fire as he threatened.
“My sweater. Where did it go?”
Ah, there, her voice had returned. Her thoughts remained jumbled, however, as her sweet shifter handed the white cashmere sweater to her. She had always loved how the top fit her, how it set off her eyes, how it felt against her skin. Except now it reminded her of Vance’s fur, of how he often ordered her to wear this sweater. The same white as his fur. . . Why hadn’t she seen that before? Yet the sweater was the same color as Hayden’s, too.
White wolves.
When she failed to move, Hayden took the sweater out of her hands and eased it over her head. He lifted her arms, pushed them through the armholes, and pulled the warm cashmere down over breasts, ribs, stomach. Him dressing her was odd, though sweet. Black eyes—so like Vance’s—but so full of need and worry for her, caught her.
She owed him an explanation, so he would understand none of this was his doing.
“There’s a wolf in my pack. . .” The rest of the words lodged in her throat like a lump of cement. If she told Hayden, he’d see how weak she was, but it wouldn’t end there. He’d fight for her. Weak or not, Hayden would fight for her, as he fought that wolf who had attacked her up in Wyoming. This wasn’t his battle to fight. It was hers. “The wolf, he. . ..”
“You’ll stay here, with Damien’s pack,” Hayden said, his voice firm, commanding.
He wasn’t going to takenofor an answer. “I have to go back.”
“You’re not going back. Even if you don’t stay here, you’re not going back. I’ll find you another pack if I must, but you’re not returning there.”
