Page 86 of Rejected Wolf's Secret Baby (Rejected Moons 4)

I break the kiss. “I need you inside me,” I gasp. “I need you to fuck me.”

He nods frantically. “I know. Me too.”

Even though we’ve been together plenty of times before, it feels like I’ve been waiting for this moment for decades. It feels like I’ve spent half my life asleep, not knowing that this lay in my future, waiting for it to be real without knowing what I was waiting for.

He lines himself up, and with the next roll of his hips, he slides into me. It’s a little awkward—the position is difficult to maintain—but then he backs me up into the trunk of a nearby tree, grabs my thighs in his big hands, and lifts my legs up to wrap around his waist.

I rock against him greedily, reaching up and grabbing onto a tree branch for leverage. “Fuck,” I moan. “You feel so good. You’re just what I fucking needed. My mate, so big and thick, filling me up. I’ve needed this all my life, and I never fucking knew it. I don’t know how I’ve gone this long without you.”

“Keep talking,” Brandon gasps. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

“Sofull,” I groan. “I just want to ride you all night. Can we do that?”

His grin is feral. “I don’t have anywhere to be.”

He fucks me slowly, languorously, taking his time with me. After a moment, when he’s sure I’ve got a good grip, he releases my legs and cups my breasts. My nipples are already hard, begging for his touch, and I arch toward him so that only my shoulders are pressing against the tree trunk.

“That’s it,” he hisses. “Fuck, yeah, that’s how you do it. Ride me.”

He pinches my nipples gently, then more roughly, sending shocks of pleasure through my body. I clamp down hard around him. With one hand, I let go of the tree branch I’ve been holding onto so that I can bring my fingers to my clit.

“Oh, yeah, there you go,” Brandon says. “I love watching you touch yourself. You want to make yourself come?”

“Yeah,” I breathe, but it sounds more like a whine. I want that so fucking bad. I want to feel him pumping inside me as I come, and then I want him to absolutely use me.

“Remember when I made you watch?” he asks. “Remember when I held you in front of the mirror in my house and made you watch yourself come?”

“Yeah,” I gasp. “It was so fucking hot. I loved watching myself come. I loved the way I looked.”

“Yeah, you did,” he agrees, “and now you know how I feel watching you. So fucking sexy. So beautiful. I could watch you do this all day. I could get off just watching you.” He fucks into me just a little deeper, grinding his pelvis against me with such force that it presses my fingers even harder into my clit.

“Fuck,” I gasp. “You’re gonna make me come.”

“Do it, baby,” he says. “Come for me.”

The way he says it sparks something in my head. It’s an alpha command. He’s ordering me to come.

And my body responds.

I cry out and dig my heels into his ass, pulling him into me as hard as I can. He lets out an exhilarated little laugh, thrilled at the sensation of me tensing around him.

Could I come just on the strength of his command, without any stimulation at all?

I think I might be able to, and we’re definitely going to be experimenting with that in the future. The things I want to do with this man are going to keep us busy well into old age. We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.

“Good girl,” Brandon breathes as my orgasm subsides. He slides his arms under my thighs and lifts me off his cock. I moan at the loss. Iwanthim. Even though I just came, I’m nowhere near finished with his body. He needs to keep fucking me.

But by the time I’ve found the words to express that, he’s got me turned around, my palms pressed up against the trunk of the tree, and he’s easing back into me. I sigh and grind backward onto his cock, feeling myself open up for him. Fuck, it’s good to have my mate.

“You take me so well,” he whispers. “You love it, don’t you? You love being fucked.”

“I love you fucking me.” The difference is subtle but important. I have always enjoyed sex in the past, but sex with Brandon is in a class by itself. I could never go back to human men now. They’re worthless in comparison.

“I’m gonna mark you,” he growls.

“Oh,please—” My wolf is whining for the feel of his mark, aching for the wonderful sensation of him claiming me as his own.

His teeth graze along the back of my neck. Then they move to one side—the opposite of the place he marked me last time. I smile at the idea that he’s making sure people will know I’m his, no matter which way they approach me. It’s deeply possessive, but I want to be possessed by him.

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