Page 80 of The Untamed

This is wrong, right?

So why does it feel so good?

His palm slides under my T-shirt and I gasp at the feel of his rough, calloused fingertips on my ribs. I squirm beneath him, lashing my own tongue against his, needing him to take whatever he can get from me. He must understand my need because his thumb grazes the underside of my breast over my bra.

I want him to take my knife and tear it away.

I want his mouth on my peaked nipple, sucking and biting until I can’t take it anymore.

Will he make me come too like he made our brother come? I’d felt betrayed that they’d done things without me, but now I feel like I’ve been brought back into the fold. Like I’m a part of something big—something that the three of us make complete.

“My nipple,” I plead between his ravishing kisses. “Touch it. Please.”

He growls—actually growls like an animal—and then yanks my bra roughly away from my breast. I cry out in pleasure as his thumb seeks out my nipple. The sensations running through me are intense and incredible, unlike anything I’ve ever known. When he pinches my nipple between his thumb and middle finger, I feel a jolt of bliss shoot right to my core.

Oh God. I need more.

I need everything.

A scream pierces the air and I pause for a moment, wondering if the sound came from me. A second scream has me wading through the pleasure haze back to reality. It’s coming from beyond the fence. Ryder pulls back, lips red and swollen from our kiss. His eyes are manic and filled with ravenous lust. I’m just sure he’ll ignore the screams as he eyes my mouth again, but then a gunshot follows.

He’s off me and gone in a flash.

It all happens so fast.

One minute I’m unzipping Logan’s tent for him to set the newly bandaged up Kristen inside, and then the next, she’s leaping from his hold to rush out to the group surrounding the fire.

Screaming.

With a gun in hand.

The man she took it from appears to be equally pissed and shocked but backs away from the unstable woman. She wildly swings the weapon around, aiming at anyone she perceives as a threat.

“You all have to run,” she croaks out, wild eyes locking on me. “Hurry while you have a chance!”

No one runs. Hell, no one even moves. Except for Logan. He prowls slowly up behind her.

“Th-They’ll rape your women and k-kill your kids,” she warns. “You’re all going to die.”

Dad appears in my peripheral, menacing and poised like he might strike. The tension around the fire is pulled as taut as it will go before snapping.

“Babe,” Logan growls.

“NO!” she screams, jerking around to point the gun at him. “NO!

He takes a step forward and she fires the gun.

Pop!

I cry out in horror, waiting for the blood to bloom across his chest. Nothing happens. She missed. Holy shit, she missed. Relief washes over me, but we’re not out of the clear yet. A madwoman is still waving a gun around and shooting at people.

Logan darts forward and swings his arm as he moves. He knocks the gun from her shaky grip. I expect him to pick it up, but he keeps going, this time swinging again but at her head.

Crack!

The bones of the back of his hand slam into her cheek. She sways, blinking away her daze, and then he hits her again.

What the fuck?

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