Page 17 of Claimed By the Bookstore Alpha
“Harder,” he gasped, his hips lifting to meet my next thrust. “I need to feel you more.”
I rammed into him, the pace shifting from tender to demanding. The slap of skin against skin filled the air and mingled with our gasps and moans. I angled my hips to hit that special spot inside him.
“Yes! Right there! Oh gods!” His cock jerked as he clenched around my length.
The world consisted of heat, friction and the tight, wet clasp of his body. The scent of him, of sex and sweat flooded my senses and overwhelmed me. My thrusts became faster, losing any semblance of rhythm, and just driven by need.
“I love fucking you,” I growled against his damp skin, the words ripped from some deep place inside me. They were so unlike me, but I’d never experienced anything like this.
“Don’t stop because I love your thick, hard cock!” he panted.
I fucked him harder as sweat rippled into our curves. We didn’t speak much. It was my cock inside him, sliding in and out, building pleasure until we were ready to topple off the cliff.
Clark grabbed his bouncing length and pumped it in time to me plowing into him. But the frantic tugging made his eyes glaze, and he cried out. His body convulsed as his release claimed him and cum splashed over his chest and stomach.
I couldn’t hold on much longer and the sight of him tugging his cock tipped me over the edge. The coil inside me snapped. With a final thrust, buried deep inside him, I came. Intense pleasure exploded through me. My vision whited out as I pulsedinto him, wave after wave of ecstasy tearing a deep roar from my chest.
"Flynn?" Clark's voice was soft, drowsy.
"Mmm?"
"I'm glad I came back."
I pressed a kiss to the top of his head, breathing in the scent of his hair mixed with the lingering sweetness of our connection. "So am I."
He didn't know he'd just spent the night with a shifter. Eventually, I'd have to tell him. But for now, he was in my arms, and my wolf was more at peace than he had been in years.
EIGHT
CLARK
I'd been telling myself something was wrong for two weeks. I’d been making excuses for Flynn's increasingly distant behavior, but I couldn't ignore it anymore. The man who'd held me tenderly on our first night together a month ago was slowly pulling away.
It’d started with small things. First he canceled a coffee date because of a delayed order. Okay that wasn’t concerning. But as the days went by, he took longer to respond to my texts. And when we met, his smiles were forced, giving me the impression he was performing rather than feeling.
I pushed through the door of Turning Pages and as usual, the bell chimed above my head. Flynn looked up from his computer, and for a moment his face lit up before a mask slid into place.
"Hi."
"Hey." I approached the counter, noting how he tensed as I got closer. "How are you?" I wanted to lean in for a kiss and I would have if he hadn’t been acting weird.
"Fine. Busy." His fingers drummed against the counter. "What can I help you with?"
Damn. He was treating me as a customer, one he wanted to get rid of pretty quickly. The formal tone stung. A month ago, I would have teased him about something and he would have smiled. Now he was treating me like anyone else who walked into the store.
"I brought lunch." I held up the bag from the deli down the street. "I thought maybe we could eat together? I know you forget to stop for food when you're working."
His lips parted and I hoped for a grin. "That's... kind of you. But I have a lot to get through today."
"It's just lunch. Twenty minutes."
“Yes, but..." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm swamped. Maybe another time?"
Another time. He'd been saying that a lot lately.
I set the bag on the counter anyway. "At least eat something. You look tired."
There were dark circles under his eyes, and his careful composure seemed frayed around the edges. Part of me wanted to reach out and smooth away the worry lines on his forehead, but the wall he’d put up was too high for me to hurdle.
