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He grabbed a fistful of her hair. “You hungry for my cock?”
“Yes,” she bit out.
“Then you’ll get it.”
Bree winced at the slight bite of pain as the thick head of his cock pushed into her. “Not slow, Alex, I—” The hand holding her hair snatched her head back as he surged into her with such shocking force that she cursed.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He reared back, slow and smooth. Then he roughly surged deep, burying himself to the hilt inside her.
“Yes.” Feeling unbearably full while his long, fat cock throbbed against her inner walls, Bree closed her eyes. “Fuck me.” Instead, he released her hair and pressed down on her upper back. She dropped to her elbows and rested one side of her face on the mattress.
He rumbled a sound of approval and gripped her shoulders. “Such a good girl.”
Bree was about to firmly state that she was far freaking from it, but then he began brutally hammering into her pussy, driving so deep it hurt in the best way. She threw her hips back to meet each thrust, loving the feel of his cock slicing through her over and over.
The room was filled with moans, growls, grunts, and the sound of flesh slapping wet flesh. Her pussy was so super-sensitive that she could already feel her orgasm slowly creeping up on her. The slightest touch to her clit would throw her over.
“Love being in you.” Alex ground his teeth as her inner muscles rippled, and more liquid heat bathed his dick. He loved watching himself sink inside her. Loved that view of her perfect little ass—an ass he owned, just as he owned every other delectable inch of her.
He growled as her pussy tightened and superheated around him. “You’re close, aren’t you? Good. I want you to come hard for me.” He snaked one hand around her body and found her clit. She went wild beneath him. Her pussy became tighter and tighter and tighter.
He sank his teeth into the back of her shoulder. She damn well detonated; screaming, bucking, clawing the sheets. Snarling, Alex pounded into her harder as her pussy clamped down like a vice and swept him under. White-hot pleasure tore through him, fast and fierce, making his eyes go blind. He exploded inside her, his cock throbbing and pulsing.
For a few moments, he collapsed on top of her, utterly replete. Sated. Content. Loathed to leave her body, he nonetheless gently pulled out of her and flopped onto his back. His mouth dry as a bone, he lay there, his chest heaving with every ragged breath. She lay on her stomach beside him, her eyes closed, her body shuddering with little aftershocks.
“You okay?” he asked. “I was pretty rough.”
“If it had been too much, I would have said so.” Her lids lifted, revealing slumberous eyes. “Thank you. For earlier. Helping me when I almost checked out with shock.”
“You wouldn’t have checked out. You always have your shit together. I admire it. A lot of people would have cried or raged, but you didn’t. Just like you don’t rage about what a bitch fate has been to you by lumping you with Paxton.”
“My dad drummed it into me daily that finding your true mate didn’t equate to happiness; that it wasn’t the be all and end all. He was right. There are so many imprinted couples around us, including Mila and Dominic. They’re solid and ridiculously happy.”
They were. It was almost nauseating. “My maternal grandparents imprinted on each other. It was an arranged mating, which doesn’t always work out well. But they have a tight, albeit highly dysfunctional, relationship.”
“My own grandmother believed imprint bonds are more special than true mate bonds, because it means your partner chose you. There’s no fate at work. The decision isn’t taken from your hands. That person wanted you enough that you mean more to them than anything else—even their true mate.”
“Yeah, that’s special,” Alex agreed.
“You know, Riley once told me that although ravens believe in destiny, they don’t believe that a shifter’s fate always lies with their true mate; they believe that if a shifter finds someone they love, their fate may lie with them. That rings true for me. I don’t believe my destiny ever lay with Paxton. I never felt that way.”
Curling his arm around her, Alex drew her closer. “Good. Because you’re not his, and he can’t have you.” He pressed a long kiss to her mouth. “Now get some sleep. It won’t be long before I wake you up to take you again.”
“No complaints here.”
“For the hundredth and final time, you’re not giving me money for groceries.” Bree slammed her locker door to punctuate her words.
“Baby girl, I eat more of your food than you do,” said Alex. “I have breakfast at your home every morning, and I eat dinner there every night. I snack like it’s my job, and I intend to continue to do so. It ain’t cheap to keep a wolverine fed.”
