Page 64 of Come for Me
My mate is playing a dangerous game. I’ve tortured countless enemies, and she is, by far, the most stubborn. She keepspretending she doesn’t want me.That’s fine. I’m a patient man. And I always break them in the end.
“Just because I don’t want you around her doesn’t mean I want you for myself.”
I raise an eyebrow, and I can’t help the smirk tugging at me.
Wanna bet? My mate continues to lie to herself and me.
I grab her freshly shaven ankles, more evidence shedoeswant me. She could have easily covered her legs with pants, but she didn’t. She chose to shave in preparation for when her king decides it’s time to play. I think about my mate’s curves in the shower, soaped up and wet, consciously making a decision to be groomed for me.
In one swift motion, I drag her down to the edge of the bed, pinning her arms with one hand above her. My wolf wants to take her roughly, and I have to fight the urge.
“Those torture methods I used against my enemies? I’m going to use them to turn you, my defiant little mate, into my wantoning whore.”
Her cheeks flush, and my darling is trying like hell to get out of my grasp. I enjoy the feel of her rubbing herself against my package as she writhes beneath me.
She notices my growing member and stops struggling. My little wolf’s eyes glow violet at my erection’s pressure against her thighs, and her breasts rise and sink. Her nipples harden through the thin fabric of her sports bra.
After spreading her luscious legs, I position myself between them. “Your body tells a different story.” I trace down her face, cleavage, and stomach until I reach the edge of her lace panties.
The intricate details of the lace, the sheerness, and the color tells me she chose these with me in mind. My finger grazes her pulsing clit, and her heart beats even faster. Sparks between us create an electric shock on her bud.
“Your wolf responds so beautifully to her king.” I growl and bite my lip.
Dipping my head, I trail my lips across her stomach, wanting nothing more than to taste every inch of her. Wanting to prolong her torture with the promises of never-ending pleasure, I end up torturing myself.
I kiss her clit over her panties, and she shivers. My wolf is in sensory overload at her arousal. The thumping of her body tells me what it needs when she refuses to.
“Oh, baby, you’re pulsing,” I tease.
She lies back and closes her eyes, drinking in my words. My voice, calm and hypnotizing as I carry on, narrates her slow torture. The thin fabric of her panties reminds me of how silly it is she even wears them.
As if this thin barrier could keep me from taking what I want.
My wolf reacts to the idea of anything and anyone keeping me from her. Within an instant, I rip the thin fabric off her voluptuous body with my canines. Straightening up again to see her bare mound, I spit the remnants of lace to the floor beside me, not taking my eyes off her body—mybody.
My poor darling’s pussy continues to pulse, begging for her king’s attention and swift mercy. I lick my canines at the taste of her wetness on her panties.
A growl leaves my wolf at the sharpness of my canines, pleasure mixing with pain as they threaten to sink my teeth into the pretty little wolf moaning beneath my gaze. She needs me just as much as her pussy pleads for mercy and release.
I grip her thighs. “Nothing about this will be merciful, darling.”
Not afraid of my beast’s dark nature, she lifts her hips, gravitating to my warm breath as I inhale her scent. I’d bathe in her secretion, have her juices marking me as hers, even if sherefused a more permanent claim. My lips twitch as she fights against my hold, my fingers digging into flesh as she mews, fighting to close the immeasurable distance between my tongue and her bud.
She inhales, likely to berate or demand orders from a king she refuses to yield to. But I steal all thoughts from her, my tongue dipping between her flesh and flattening against her throbbing center. Slowly, painfully so, I lap up to her clit, flicking the hardening bud as my eyes flash to her closed ones.
“Eyes on me, darling.”
Her violet pair sears into my soul.
“Yes, fucking beautiful.”
A devilish moan escapes her. Whatever insult she intended for me fades as my lips pucker around her clit.
Smirking, I note its efficiency in silencing her complaints as I apply pressure and suck. I tease her pleasure higher, pulsing the sensation around her bud, my fingers massaging her thighs as I pull her to me. Her breathing quickens, and I chuckle. I’d cause her destruction buried between her legs like this. Black raspberry and vanilla bursts across my taste buds as I drink in her juices, the salt of her sweat enhancing the flavor of the sweetest cream I could imagine.
Her taste and moans threaten to turn me feral, begging for a release I need just as much as my own. I note the hymns coming from the bed above me.
She’s close.
