A snort escapes me.
“Don’t believe me? I bet calling you a little cum slut might get you going.”
The strangled moan that escapes me should be the least embarrassing thing about this situation, but I immediately hate myself for letting it out.
“That’s it, my little cum slut, rub that vibrator over your aching cunt.”
His language is utterly shocking, and I should tear his ears right off.
Instead, the toy follows the trajectory he suggests. I grunt and my knees lift under the covers. Fuck it’s half painful, half exactly what I need.
“Are you thinking of how that college boy fingered his girl in the stacks? How you wish it was you being filled? Being stretched and teased by a strong digit that knows exactly where you need it?”
I want to tell him to stop. I need to tell him to stop talking like this and leave. It’s so wrong.
Instead, a low guttural moan escapes me as I rub my clit more vigorously with the vibrator. Hot sparks start in my lower back and it feels too good.
“That’s it, pet, come for me,” he urges, eyes flashing supernaturally.
I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. My knees hike up and my head jerks back into the pillow as my inner muscles clench and shudder out a release.
My breath comes short and fast, but it’s not enough. It's not the orgasm that’s going to leave me satisfied. It barely scrapes off the top layer of my agitation.
“Show me,” he says, his voice husky. Black pupils nearly swallow his now glowing eyes.
Suddenly, I realize how affected he is. I thought he was in complete control, and so far he’s held to the no touching rule, staying on the other side of the room. But I can tell now, he’s skating on a thin edge.
I use my feet to push away the sheets until I’m baring myself to him. Shame and embarrassment flood me, but I don’t backtrack.
The first time we ended up naked together, it was a frenzy. This perusal is painfully slower, more probing and intimate.
The hunger in his eyes and on his face is staggering. He examines the tattoo wrapped around my right hip. Beautifully detailed flowers wind up and down my side, and in the midst of them a wolf face peeks out from them. The guy in the tattoo parlor insisted, and Cinder said to always take his suggestion.
“He’s an artist, and it’s the same thing as going with what the chef suggests at his own restaurant.”
True to her word, it came out a masterpiece.
Though now, I feel ridiculous with the likeness tattooed on me when facing down an actual wolf shifter.
He drinks me in with his eyes, like he’d kill to keep staring at me poised like this. Excitement visibly flares in his irises with a supernatural glow. His rapt attention is utterly intoxicating and completely fucking terrifying. “Even in that hideous bra, you are fucking tantalizing, my pet.”
It has to be the only thing keeping him on the other side of the room. Today, the bra is doing its job. But I’m not so sure I want it too.
“Now you,” I say, suddenly emboldened.
His eyes flick up to meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flash of fear. A fear of losing control? Or of being vulnerable? The fae lords know I’m vulnerable enough for the two of us right now.
But this is a game. Just a game.
There can’t be a body count if neither of us takes this seriously, right?
Brexley rips his shirt over his head, throwing it behind him, and suddenly I’m as serious as a heart attack.
Taut, cut muscles are revealed. His masculine form is almost too much for me to look at. When I saw him naked after shifting, I didn’t allow my gaze to linger for long. But now, I study all of him without shying away. The scars on his face and along his body add to his magnetism. Danger and power lace his muscles, matching the same energy in his eyes. I want to reach out and touch the puckered skin running along his bicep, and what looks like a healed bullet wound on his left hip.
Though his silvery hair and steely eyes create an icy effect, there is no question Brexley has been forged in fire. He’s been burned but then he took the flames and turned them into a cold fire that he alone can wield.
My musings come to an abrupt halt when he unfastens his jeans and pulls out his long, thick cock. I already know he doesn’t bother with underwear, but I’m instantly affected again.
