Page 32 of Rust the Rejected
The anaconda doesn’t disappoint. Already thick and long, it prods my pussy entrance. I hump him like a feral she-wolf as I growl with carnal need. My mouth leaves his, and I stare at him with hooded eyes. I purr the words I know will send him over the edge and unleash the savage side of his wolf. I want untamed Rust.
“Fuck me, Rust.”
His hazel eyes flash golden as his nostrils flare. A low growl rumbles in his chest. The vibrations skitter over my skin. My nipples bead. So sensitive—even through my bikini top—they rub against the dusting of hair on his chest. I hiss.
He dips his head as he lifts me from the water. His teeth move the fabric away, and his mouth engulfs a nipple. He suckles. Hard. I throw my head back and moan as my fingernails dig into his wide shoulders. He grunts at the pain but doesn’t stop lavishing my breast with sucks, nips, and tugs. His mouth moves to give attention to the other one.
My eager pussy grinds against his eight-pack abs. Even without the water, I would slide along his body, eased by the juices leaking from my core. I lower my head to his.
“Rust, please… I need you inside me.”
My swollen nipple pops from his mouth. He tilts his head back to stare up at me. A feral gleam sparks in his wolfish eyes.
“How badly do you need me, Little Girl?”
“Oh, gods!” I groan, closing my eyes as his warm velvet voice rolls over me.
A bite to my nipple makes my groan morph into a yelp. My eyes pop open to find him staring at me with a cocked eyebrow.
“So badly,” I pant.
“So be it.”
He reaches between us and unleashes the anaconda. The slit of his plum-shaped tip winks at me before he uses it to push the gusset of my bikini bottom aside. One upward thrust, and he impales me.
“RUST!”
My scream bounces around us. Surprised seagulls mimic my cry as they take flight. I continue with each toe-curling thrust. Caught in a state of sheer rhapsody, I cling to him, letting him take full control of our carnal pleasure.
His cock swells impossibly bigger. The snug fit triggers another orgasm, and I wail. His grip on my hips tightens painfully sure to leave marks. He buries his face in my neck as he roars through his release. Hot cum bathes my pussy. The walls contract to milk his cock of every last drop of his seed. My mouth opens on a silent wail.
I startle when fangs graze the juncture of my shoulder and neck. The contact ends abruptly as Rust jerks his head away. He stares at me, dismay on his handsome face.
“Sorry. I got carried away,” he says in a tortured voice. His fangs glint in the sunlight with the serum male wolf shifters secrete for their claiming bite. I stare at it, mesmerized. But he pulls me away from him.
Our intimate connection breaks.
The loss of his warmth and the disappointment in his eyes make me rethink my demand we wait. Am I doing the right thing by letting my wounded heart dictate my life?
CHAPTER12
Rust
“Areyou sure you don’t want to join me? We could do a couple’s massage or something. I feel bad leaving you while I get pampered.”
Natalie scrunches her nose as she scans my face.
It’s the last morning of our stay aboardMoonbeam. I arranged for an aesthetician and a masseuse to treat her to a spa day while we cruise back to Big Pine Key. They’ll give her the works with a body scrub, manicure and pedicure, massage, everything the Chief Stew recommended. Nice, but for a dual purpose. She gets spoiled. Me?
I need a time out.
Three weeks ago, I thought I could withstand the urge to claim my fated mate since we’d be together, and I could seduce her. For a while, the intimacy of sex and shared space satisfied my wolf and me. With her in my arms or on my lap, contentment ran high. I believed she would give in soon. So, I held back.
However, it proves more difficult each time I’m buried in her wet warmth to stop myself from sinking my fangs into her neck to embed my scent in her permanently. The other morning as we fucked in the Gulf and again last night, my fangs descended of their own accord. Serum filled my mouth. I had to wrench my head away and separate us.
The last thing I want to do is claim her without her assent after I promised I wouldn’t do it. Not only would it ruin the forward momentum of our relationship. But Sage would have my balls—and cock. I’m pretty damn strong, but I shudder at the thought of losing my junk. Plus, I would lose Natalie and any chance of securing my fated mate.
Then I question whether what I’ve longed for is worth this torture or not at all. First, her rejection pierced my soul. Now, her ongoing will to deny me claiming her wreaks havoc on my being.
