Page 76 of Come for Me
“I-I don’t.”
He removes his thumb and smacks my center. “Play with yourself, then.” Pumping his length, he issues a warning growl, his patience thinning.
Emboldened by his hungry stare, my hand moves to make eager circles across my aching sweet spot. I moan under his gaze, my breath quickening. My other hand strokes the side of my neck to my breast. Alternating between squeezing my nipple between my thumb and the base of my pointer finger, I squish and roll my flesh.
“Yeah, keep doing that. Fuck. Does that feel good, baby?” He sucks in through his teeth. “You’re so fucking sexy when you’re making that pussy feel good.”
It’s hard not to feel sexy with the way this male looks at me, and my inner sexual goddess turns me on even more.
“You like when I touch myself?”
“Fuck yes,” he grits out, veins protruding from his forehead and neck. “Feel how wet you are for me, darling.”
At his command, I dip my fingers in, and he’s right. I’m coating the ground beneath me. I watch him watch me stick another finger inside myself, moving in and out slowly. Only coming out to swirl the juices around my pulsing clit. I bring my fingers up to my mouth, and Dax growls in a heated warning.
“Do it, and I’m fucking you.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Promise?”
A wicked grin spreads across my face. Enveloping my mouth around my fingers one by one, I slowly suck and moan as I drag each across my tongue, then pop them from my lips.
You can practically hear the last bit of his patience break before he buries himself inside me, unable to control himself and adjust. His thrusts are unrelenting, our skin slapping and moans rattling the trees.
My mind reels. I don’t know if this is the art of war or the art of seduction anymore. They both seem one and the same,and I don’t know who’s winning or who’s losing. Every thrust of his hardened length speaks to our game of tug of war, both wanting the same thing but aching for the other to succumb to one another. It’s not enough to meet in the middle and call it a tie and admit that the bond is a mutual need. Instead, someone needs to lose so that both of us can win and end this miserable game. And his pull is stronger, his side convincingandtempting.
My body is erupting with him inside of me faster than I can catch up. I open my mouth to scream, but he slaps his hand over my lips to muffle my cries. Arching my back, eyes rolling up into myself, I try my best to close my legs to weaken the powerful release threatening to explode. His thrusts slow to a rhythmic pump, pouring himself inside of me.
“Shit, Alaina,” he strains.
Dax spasms, and my legs shake as we come down. Sweat runs down the center of his chest. I smile, never thinking I’d be the reason the king of werewolves would break a sweat.
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, rubbing his thumb on my cheek. “Fuck, never stop looking at me like that.”
I hold his pleading gaze, and there’s a feeling I haven’t felt from him I can barely read.Fear? Sadness?
“Never leave me.”
Both.Because while this was all a clear misunderstanding, I still left without a fight.
Dax cradles me against his broad chest. Exhaustion sets in as I’m encased in his warmth. “Sleep. I’ve got you. And when you wake, I’m going to punish you.”
His tone is playful, with a hint of dangerous mischief.
I smile into his chest and flick a dismissive wave. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll brat my way out of it.
* * *
My eyes flutter open, and the silk caramel the sheets indicate that I’m back in the castle. Sunlight seeps through the floor-to-ceiling curtains that dress the large windows overlooking the kingdom.
I sit up and stretch.
In the corner of the room, the light fails to hit. Slumped in the chair with his legs spread and arms hung over the armrests, swirling caramel-colored liquid in a short glass, Dax is sitting in a velvet crimson Queen Anne armchair. His white shirt is unbuttoned, showing his tanned chest, while black slacks struggle to keep his package contained. He must’ve come from a meeting.
Dax stares at me through his lashes. His cheekbones flex and eyes narrow.
I could devour him.
