Page 59 of Wild Fury (Fallen Royals 6)

I close my eyes and exhale. I can’t say if I ever had fight in me, but whatever remains ebbs away. I’m suddenly exhausted by this. By him, by us, our endless circling. Exhaustion isn’t allowed. We’ve only just begun. There’s still plenty of hours in the night before one of us can retreat.

Yet… what I want and what I need are two very, very different things.

I want to pretend these past two weeks haven’t happened.

I need him.

His fingers flex on my skin, reminding me that silence is punishable. Everything is punishable when he’s in a mood like this.

Even when I think I’m going to win, I lose.

I open my eyes. “I want you to pretend we’re normal and kiss me.”

I hate that I’m hanging my hope on this. That I have to steal something just to win something back.

He analyzes me for a moment, then nods.

“Close your eyes.”

I do. My anticipation is a flock of birds in my chest, rustling their wings before flight.

My mind goes to the way his lips touched the corner of mine at the frat party. The smell of smoke clinging to both of us. My desperate attempt to kiss him before he shut me out. I shiver.

His lips touch my throat, over my hammering pulse, and I flinch. He catches me, holds me still as he sucks and licks my skin. I’m on fire with the feeling, pinpricks all over my body. He nips my flesh, and I let out a moan.

In the back of my mind, a darker thought: This can’t end well.

Now I slide my fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp. His locks are silky. His only reaction is his grip on my hip tightening, crushing my skin. I’ll be bruised in a new sort of way. A good way. If I ever thought that wasn’t possible, it’s because I had never imagined this scenario.

He moves lower, his mouth and tongue on my collarbone, my breast. I tip my head back. When he gets to my nipple, sucking it into his mouth, I jolt. It goes straight to my core.

A hot need fills me, and I can’t control when my hips rock against him.

His erection strains against his jeans, and he shifts just a bit. The trapped bulge brushes my center, and the sensation is better than I could’ve guessed. He shudders and does it again, and I inch closer.

If not for his jeans, we’d be fucking. As it is, this is dry humping taken to a new level.

My cheeks flush, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t seem bothered by my sudden quietness, either. The shyness that takes over.

He releases my breast and eyes me, then his gaze dips down.

Neither of us stop.

We’re caught in a moment of need, and we rub on each other. The denim, him on my clit, tips me over the edge. I hold on to him as an orgasm bursts out of nowhere, taking both of us by surprise.

I fall forward, laying my cheek on his shoulder, and palm him through his jeans. My body still quakes, my pussy pulsing, but he doesn’t stop me.

Not yet.

I unzip his fly and navigate my hand inside his boxers, grabbing his dick. It’s larger, softer than I could’ve imagined. I don’t know what I thought it might’ve felt like, but velvet over steel wasn’t it.

Wordlessly, I free it and stroke him. I don’t know what I’m doing, but he doesn’t stop me. The one hand on my hip never moved, but his other glides up and pinches my nipple. The one he didn’t bite.

I gasp, squeezing my eyes shut, and move my hand faster.

“Fuck,” he groans in my ear. He pushes me backward, just a bit, and stares at my hand on him. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

I run my thumb over his head, smearing the bead of precum. Thank you, amateur porn. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, halfway between a growl and a moan. I pump faster, squeezing. His hips jerk, sliding his cock through my fist. It’s a wild motion, but it only lasts a moment before he stills. Ropes of white cum spurt out, coating my belly, my breasts. I slip my hand down one last time, and he shudders.

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