Page 22 of Rejected Wolf's Secret Baby (Rejected Moons 4)

I don’t bother answering that. I just rock greedily against his palm.

He shifts the soaked fabric aside, and a moment later I feel the warm pressure and fullness of two thick fingers sliding into me. “Think you can make yourself come on my hand?”

I know I can. I close my eyes and nod.

“Do it, then,” he says. “But with your eyes open. I want you to see what you look like when you come, Alicia. It’s the sexiest thing in the entire world.”

I open my eyes and stare at my reflection in the mirror.

I don’t even look like myself anymore. Whenever I look at my reflection, it’s with complete composure. I’ve even gotten into the habit of turning my head the right way to give myself more flattering angles. But now I’m a mess in his hands, wanton and sexual. I watch myself riding his fingers at the same time as I feel them pumping away inside me, and I swear it’s like watching pornography.

“Now you see what I mean,” he says. “This is what I see when I look at you in that outfit, Alicia. This is what I imagine. Stripping you, opening you up, getting you totally indecent and watching you fall apart. Fuck, you’re good. You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

And right now, I feel the same way. The reflection I’m staring at is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

But it’s not just me. It’s the whole picture. Not just my wild arousal, my desperate need, but also everything about what Brandon is doing.

He’s got one arm wrapped around me, practically holding me up as I writhe on the hand that’s down my pants. He’s not looking at our reflections. He’s watching me, looking down on me, his eyes wide and ringed with the golden color that lets me know his wolf is close to the surface. His teeth are bared. There’s something electric about being so close to danger and yet being confident that he isn’t going to hurt me, that he never could.

He presses the heel of his hand against my clit just as I rock my hips again, and the friction is overwhelming. Suddenly I’m coming, my orgasm as powerful and unexpected as a breaking wave out at sea.

“Don’t look away,” he growls in my ear.

I keep my eyes on my reflection, even as I’m crying out in ecstasy, even as the pleasure rocks my body so hard that my feet actually leave the ground for a moment. I can’t form conscious thoughts about the way I look right now, in the throes of orgasm, but there is something wild and powerful and magnificent about it, and this feels like a kind of pleasure I could never have experienced at the hands of a human man.

As I start to come down, Brandon shoves my shorts down to my ankles and kicks my legs apart. He grabs the back of my neck—not roughly, but very firmly—and bends me over the sink. I feel his hard cock pressing up against me, and it makes me gasp to realize how aroused he is. It’s just from watching me. I haven’t even touched him.

He slides inside me, and it’s perfect.

I plant my hands on the porcelain and push myself backward onto him, taking him as deep as I can. He groans, sounding every bit like an animal in heat, and my lips curve up into a pleased smile. I can give as good as I get. This isn’t going to be just about him giving me the ride of my life. I want to be the best he’s ever had, too.

I look up into the mirror at the expression on his face. His teeth are gritted, and with every thrust, a little growl escapes him. His eyes are almost completely yellow now, and the way he’s hunching over me…it’s like he’s about to shift at any moment. Fuck, he’s really riding the edge between man and wolf. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s so sensual.

I reach down to touch myself as I watch him. Usually I don’t like to be touched again so quickly—it takes my body a little longer than this to recover—but I’m already aching again, between the pleasure of his cock thrusting away inside me and the intensity of watching him in the mirror.

“Alicia,” he gasps. “I’m close. I’m so fucking close.”

“Come for me,” I hiss, working my fingers harder, bringing myself right to the edge of orgasm but not tipping over. I want it to happen at the same time as his. I want to watch us come together.

He lets out a roar and slams his hand against the mirror so hard that I’m vaguely worried it’s going to crack. His hips snap into me, and I feel the pulse of his release. I rub my clit hard and sob as my body convulses around him.

And maybe I actually black out for a moment. I’m not sure. Everything goes very fuzzy.

The next thing I’m really aware of is the sound of the shower. Brandon’s arms are around me, supporting me, lifting me away from the sink and guiding me gently into the warm spray. He stands there with me, and for several moments we’re very still. I rest my head against his chest and feel his racing heart against my cheek.

Brandon’s hands start to move up and down my back, soaping my skin. In another context, this might be sexually charged, but we’re both exhausted from our recent orgasms, and right now it just feels tender and intimate. Even when he turns me so that my back is to him and runs the soap over my breasts, I just feel safe and taken care of.

It’s somasterful.

When we get out of the shower, he wraps me in the biggest towel I’ve ever seen, and for the first time in what feels like hours, he takes his hands off me and steps back.

“How are you?” he asks me quietly.

“I’m good.” Really good. I feel amazing. “Was that... was that good for you?”

He grins. The color in his eyes has faded, and he looks fully human again—his grin is cocky, but it’s not the bared teeth of a wolf. “We’re definitely going to have to do this again.”

“Are we?” I should push back—I shouldn’t be letting him set the terms right now—but I’m too weak with satisfaction to start arguing.

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