I feel it so viscerally, I can almost smell it in the air: blood, meat, piss, and terror. I wait for her to stiffen, to pull away in disgust at this glimpse of my beast, but instead she just hums and presses a kiss to my collarbone. “I’m afraid there’s not enough left of him for that. I drugged him, tied him to a radiator with my bedsheets, and set the whole building on fire.”
Satisfaction slices through me, vicious as shrapnel. “You’re a wolf, too.”
She tilts her head, my bite on her neck like a winking eye. “Aren’t we all, when we have to be?”
No. Plenty of us are sheep, or the vultures and jackals who wait around to pick over the bones. But it makes sense that I was drawn to her, that my beast caught wind of hers and knew that one way or another, we were going to end up sharing a skin.
She grabs my chin, tilting my head back so we’re eye-to-eye. “Just promise me no more commands, Bluff. I know the scent bond took you by surprise, but that was a fucked-up way to deal with it.”
Shame washes over me, because of all the low moments in my life, that was one of the worst. “I’m so fucking sorry about that. It was unforgivable.”
“And in the end, a complete waste of breath.”
She sounds so smug, I can’t help but smile. It pulls on my scar, which is just another reason I prefer my glare, but her gaze softens as she traces it with a finger. “And for the record, I love your scars. They’re badges of strength, or at least that’s what a woman I respect once told me.”
Badges of strength.
I think about my mate lashing a man to a radiator with her bedsheets and my smile grows. “Strong is good.”
“So is hard,” she murmurs, rocking over my lap again. “And I want to feel it. All the way inside me, so I know you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, butterfly, body and bloody soul.”
She smirks at my declaration, but I can feel the next wave of her heat crash over her. It’s been simmering there since she woke, but I watch in fascination as the blush crawls across her skin, her eyes dilating with need. I’m about to carry her back to bed when she rises up on her tiptoes so she can peel my jeansopen. I’m suddenly ashamed of the clothes I wore to claim her, as old and worn as I feel most days.
“Give me a second,” I tell her, lifting her onto my hips and maneuvering us to a standing position. Once she’s secure, I drag my jeans down without her having to touch the dusty denim.
She cocks a brow at this feat, her eyes hooded with arousal. “Strongisgood.”
Except that I don’t have the dexterity to unlace my boots and hold her at the same time. “You sure you don’t want me to worship you in your pretty nest?”
She’s arranged the mound of pillows and blankets Wings gave her, but there’s still enough room for us to squeeze between her sleeping mates.
“I want to ride you in this chair, soaked in your scent,” she replies, and damn if my bare ass doesn’t hit the wood like it’s a heat-seeking torpedo.
“Ride away, butterfly.”
She smiles at my breathless tone, proving that strength and gracecango together by carefully notching my cock inside her pussy and sinking down without a hitch. The feel of her – both the clutch of her body and the fantasy of her in my arms – steals the last of my breath, and I stare at her, stunned.
“Good?” she whispers, clenching down and doing something with her walls to fuck with the last of my sanity.
“So good.”
She smirks at my strangled words, but she bites her lip as her hands spread across the width of my chest. “Can I take this off?”
My first instinct is to always keep myself covered, but I’m hardly going to refuse her anything right now. At my nod, she peels my tee away, careful to untangle my hair before tossing it on the bed. I brace instinctively, knowing the worst of the damage is scrawled across my chest and upper arms, but she just gives me a brilliant smile.
“Why are you smiling?” I grunt, scowling down at myself. “I’m a goddamn mess.”
“Maybe, but that just means there’s so much to kiss better.”
I snort at her smug look, but the next moment she’s swiping a hot tongue across the ugliest scar, tracing the puckered line until she can pull my nipple into her mouth. The groan that rips out of me would make me blush if I wasn’t already burning from head to toe.
When she’s done, she lavishes the other side with the same treatment, but I can’t hold back anymore. I grab her hips, grinding her down on my lap. Any other time, I’d kick myself for my roughness, but her back arches, my war wounds forgotten as she revels in the stretch. It’s like I’ve reminded her thatshe’sthe center of attention here, because she starts to rock over me, head thrown back as she gives into her heat. I do what I can to help, lifting her up and down on my cock while she clings to my neck, her mouth pressed to my throat. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt – inside or out – and I feel my facial scar stretch to its limit as she comes in my lap, drenching us both in her sweet release.
“Another one, butterfly,” I croon, my cock throbbing at the fluttering of her walls. She’s like a silk-lined fist, clenching and milking me as she rides out her orgasm. I’d love to just sit and bask in the sensation, but I can feel another wave of heat building under her skin.
Time to earn your keep, Alpha.
