Page 16 of Frank's Felon
Before she could overthink it, Delilah wrapped her tongue around his cock and pulled him into her mouth. The moans coming from him as his fingers threaded through her hair in tandem with her mouth bobbing on and off of him were glorious. Sensual. Primal. All male. And yet vulnerable. Beneath the layers, beneath his need to control, there was a vulnerability there, not unlike her own.
As his moans filled the air, Delilah’s nipples hardened, and her legs spread. Wetness seeped from her, and she began to lose herself in the thrill of making him moan. Her fingers dug into his jeans over his ass, pulling him deeper into her until he struck the back of her throat. Her face dug into his belly as she increased the pressure against his cock.
“Want to fuck you so bad,” he said, practically purring.
The peace in his voice entered her soul even as the orgasm rose within her. Her need to know that peace, to be claimed, possessed, covered in the muscles and brawn of a shifter who would protect her—of this shifter in particular—overwhelmed her.
As she sucked on him deep and hard, Delilah tilted her head back, looking up at the shifter who knew what he wanted without caring how he got it. Amber eyes stared at her. The arrogance she had seen earlier in his face had disappeared, replaced by that same peace she’d heard in his voice moments ago, a peace she desperately wanted.
Frank roared his release, taking her over the edge with him. Even as he spilled down her throat, the tears streamed down her face. She swallowed, and then he was pulling her to her feet, the rough pads of his thumbs brushing away her tears.
Delilah didn’t want to be held, least of all by Frank. He would push her to give more of herself than she was able. She pulled away and turned her back on him. She needed to escape, or she’d lose what little remained of herself.
* * *
FRANK
Frank didn’t understand what had happened. He was sure Delilah wanted him, as much as he wanted her, and yet she resisted him at every turn. This wasn’t the case of a female shifter being coy, teasing him, drawing him into a sexual push and pull until he dominated her and she submitted. He would have liked that with Del, but his need for her had burned too hot after not only worrying about her all day yesterday, but seeing a human trailing her through the small town of Devil’s Peak that never saw more than a few tourists stopping for gas or lunch, and certainly not many men wearing suits.
Every part of Frank needed this woman to submit to him, to be his, and yet he knew he had no right to her. He barely knew her, but there was something about her that made her a need, not a want.
Five fucking long years in prison. . . He had only been with one female right after he got out. That had been nothing more than a release, one he didn’t care to repeat given how meaningless, hollow, pathetic even, it had been. Having Del on her knees before him, sucking him off, was beyond heaven. The pleasure was unparalleled, except for what it would be like sinking into her pussy and holding her as he took her. The knowledge that she’d taken him willingly, when she could have left, and the way she had looked up at him with those large, trusting green eyes, had amazed him beyond words.
Until her tears. Those had shaken him to his core. He’d hurt her somehow, and he wasn’t sure how. Had he forced her? Threatened her? Left her no choice? He had told her that he would have her one day, but he had only spoken the truth. There were many truths in life. He had learned that in prison. He knew without a doubt that he would have her one day. But not by force. That’s not how he wanted her. He would never do that to any female, least of all her. Or had he?
The way his wolf whimpered, the churning in his gut. . . He had more than stepped over that invisible line. He had fucking leapt over it. Had he taken her choice from her, like they’d stolen his freedom in prison? Hell. . .He wasn’t sure he knew the difference anymore.
“Del. . .” he said, reaching for her.
She turned her back on him and replaced her bra and shirt. With her shoulders hunched, her head bent forward, and her red hair messed and covering her face, she looked used in that moment. Shame filled her face. . . as if she had done something wrong. She hadn’t done anything wrong. This was on him.
“Delilah, talk to me.”
“I’m not yours.”
The words cut deep. Hehadforced her.
“But I’m yours,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could even consider what he was saying to her. But it was true. . . a greater truth than knowing she’d be his one day, for that was truly only a fantasy that would never happen. He didn’t have her. He had lost her before he’d even had the chance to earn her trust. Despite whatever the future would bring, he was hers. . . even if she didn’t want him. From the moment they had sparred on that bridge, and he had seen a fire in her like no other, she had stolen his heart.
He reached for her hair, the need to comfort and protect her stronger than it should be. She jolted away from him, averting her eyes.
“I have to go,” she said, her voice shaky.
Bile rose in his throat, not just by what he had done, but at the thought of her leaving again, unprotected. There were men with guns hunting her.
“They’ll find you. They almost did earlier. Let me help you.”
She glanced at him, green eyes dimmer than before. Then she straightened her spine and lifted her head, a determination returning to her. “Don’t follow me.”
He bent down for her jacket and held it out to her. “I’m sorry, Del.”
Slowly, she reached out and took the jacket. As she headed out the door, Frank gripped her arm, not hard, but enough that she stifled a cry from the mere contact.
The unforgiving truth struck him once more. He hadhurther earlier.
Frank withdrew his hand, sank back into the room. “I won’t follow you, Delilah.”
With a quick nod, she slipped into the outer office. A moment later, the stairwell clicked shut with a hollow, metallic sound. Frank watched out the window as she entered the street. A minute later, she turned down an alley and disappeared.
