Page 63 of Wolf.e
“I want to break you.”Thrust.
“Bruise you.”Thrust.
“Tear you apart and then piece you back together.”Thrust.
“Gabriel, please,” I cry out as the orgasm takes hold of every fiber of my being.
“Say my name, say it as you soak my cock.”
“Gabriel…” I trail off because I have nothing left as I come all over his cock.
His groan is deep and unforgiving as his name lingers onmy lips. My body tenses and I pull so tight to his hair I think I could pull it from his skull. It’s the pain he craves.
Gabriel bites at my skin, then sucks to soothe it, all while thrusting into me like a man crazed. I feel him stiffen even more just before his warmth spreads through me. I don’t have any fight left when he bites my bottom lip so hard the taste of copper fills my mouth.
“Brin,Fuck,” Gabriel groans as his cock jerks and pulses inside me. The slow trickle of blood drips down my chin but I’m gone.
Let me bleed.
My head falls back against the dusty attic wall, and I feel Gabriel’s tongue slide up my throat and over my chin, collecting my blood. I tip my head forward to see the scarlet of me covering his lips.
It’s an oddly erotic sight, he kisses me and the taste of my blood, mixed with him, fills my mouth. Pulling his cock from me, he lets me down gently. I moan at the empty feeling. He holds me up by the shoulders and I stand completely naked before him as he stands almost fully clothed. I stare up at him, his cum dripping from me.
He makes a tsk sound as he reaches between my legs and skims his hand up the inside of my thighs, bringing his cum back up, he shoves it into my pussy with his first two fingers and groans.
“Every last fucking drop.”
Gabriel’s chest rises and falls as he tucks his still semi-hard cock into his jeans and does up his buckle. It takes every ounce of strength I have to not collapse. I’m sure my back is bleeding. These walls are old, dusty, and full of nails.
Gabriel doesn’t speak. He simply picks me up bridal styleas though I weigh nothing and brushes my sweaty hair off my forehead. His hand cups my face and he leans down, his lips brush mine way too gently after what he just put me through.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” is all he says. I reach up around his neck and nuzzle my face into his T-shirt. It’s warm with sweat from the humid attic heat and us. His scent is amplified, and as I breathe it in, he cradles me closer.
“The bathroom is down the hall,” I say when we reach the bottom of the attic stairs.
“Fourth door on the right,” he says as he walks the short distance to it like he’s been in my house a thousand times.
“Right, I forgot, military brain,” I say with a little grin.
“Can’t help it, force of habit to know my surroundings,” Gabriel says with a small smirk of his own. He grabs a towel from the shelf and lays it across my wide bathroom counter before depositing me onto it. The contradiction that this beast of a man would care about my body feeling cold when it touches the marble warms me in a way I can’t put into words.
He takes in the sight of my back in the mirror behind me and sets his jaw.
“It’s bleeding, isn’t it?” I ask. I know it is, I can feel it drying to my skin.
“It’s going to need to be cleaned,” he observes.
Gabriel’s eyes are devoid of emotion as he moves to my large, tiled shower and pushes open the glass door. He messes with the water temperature for a few minutes, it takes the old pipes a while to heat in here. He turns to me and uses one hand to tug at the back of his collar, pulling his shirt off overhead.
My eyes widen as he continues, unbuckling his belt, toeing his boots off and losing the rest of his clothes until he stands naked before me. The only thing that remains are the dog tagsaround his neck and the mural of ink covering his muscled body. My skin tingles and my nipples pucker at the sight of him.
He’s…jarringly beautiful.
My eyes move quickly as I take in everything I can, not knowing when or if I’ll see him naked again. Everything about him is powerful. His shoulders are wide and strong, extending into heavy, muscular arms, rippled with veins and tendons. His chest is chiseled and thick and leads to a defined six pack. Various scars line his skin, one under his ribs, one in both his right shoulder and his arm that look like bullet holes.
When he turns to make his way into the shower, I see it—his entire back is covered in a lifelike wolf’s skull, a scar settles through it’s one eye, but it’s not part of the tattoo, it’s an actual scar, jagged and startling. Ink stretches over every visible plane of his skin; he has no other piercings besides his ladder. I try to take it all in.
“Keep staring at me like that, little hummingbird, and you won’t even make it into this shower.” He doesn’t even face me as he speaks, but it’s like he knows I’m staring at him.
