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“You are so cold; it’s like holding a block of ice,” she whispers as she begins to stroke my shaft. “Do you think you will melt if I put my mouth on you?” she teases. A bead of pre-cum forms at the tip of my cock, and I hiss as her tongue darts out to lick it away—fast, wet, and agonizingly pleasurable.
I want to close my eyes and lose myself in the sensation when she takes me into her mouth, but I can’t tear my eyes away from her full, lush lips that are wrapped around my cock.
Burying my hand in her hair, my fingers tangle in the soft strands, forcing another groan from my throat as I thrust in and out of her mouth. I relish in the tightness of her lips around my cock, the feeling of her tongue swirling against my flesh, and the hollowing out of her cheeks as she sucks me deeper.
“Touch yourself,” I demand softly.
Her lust filled eyes flick up to mine, and her free hand moves to the juncture between her thighs. She’s wet, glistening with her arousal. She dips two fingers into her pussy, gathering a generous amount of her wetness, before bringing them up to her clit, circling it slowly.
The feel of her mouth and the sight of her touching herself is enough to drive me insane. I feel myself getting harder as her fingers move more urgently against herself, and her free hand comes up to cup my balls, alternating between gentle caresses and firmer squeezes. The pleasure is almost unbearable, and I can’t take it anymore. I thrust in deeper until my cock hits the back of her throat, her muscles constrict as she swallows around me. She moans in approval, encouraging me to keep going. I’m getting closer and closer to the edge, and my head falls back, the cords in my neck strained, and everything inside me building up, until I finally erupt, spilling down her throat. Euphoria interspersed with violent tremors spread and consume my body, leaving me spent and satisfied.
I open my eyes and look down at her just in time to watch as she swallows the last of my release before sliding her mouth from my cock her fangs scraping against my tortured flesh. I’m torn between wanting to push her away and begging her to continue, werewolf venom be damned.
A dark light enters her eyes, and they lock onto mine with a burning intensity I can’t escape. In a second, I’m on my knees before her, the world around us fading into a blur as I tug Lyra from the bed, pulling her down to straddle my thighs. My body is pressed up against hers, the tip of my cock poised at the entrance of her heat. I speak her name before crushing my lips against hers. The kiss is full of possessive hunger, demanding that she submit to me and the pleasure I wanted to give her. I drink down her desperate moan as I push my cock into her in a rough and urgent manner, causing her to arch her back and grip onto me tightly.
I don’t hold back, wildly pumping into her body, lost in a world of pure ecstasy. She grabs fistfuls of my hair, panting as she rides me and I take her to the brink repeatedly, never letting her fully come down from the high before starting again. When she’s but a heartbeat away from shattering into pieces, I drive deep, causing her to cry out as her orgasm slams through her.
I don’t stop there. My movements remain strong, bringing her to orgasm again and again until she’s a trembling mess. And when I bury myself to the hilt and ground my pelvis onto hers, my body spasms, and I come with a roar, the power of my release shaking the very foundations of the world around us.
I press my forehead against hers, and her eyes, like deep pools of shimmering green, lock onto mine. “I could fuck you for an eternity and never grow tired of it, little wolf,” I whisper roughly, tangling my fingers in her hair before slanting my mouth over hers, and leaving her breathless once again.
CHAPTER SIX
Lyra
Lastnight,Ienteredthe city with the sole purpose of finding a man capable of giving me the kind of mind-blowing sex that would make me forget about the assholes that are my brothers. Clearly, it didn’t go as planned, and I sort of destroyed the Den of the Wild Riders. Then, a prime specimen of masculine beauty presented himself to me in the form of Xavier Thorne. He was so different from the men in my pack.
When Xavier followed me from the bar, I never planned on giving in to him. I was more than ready to draw my knife and plunge it into his heart if he refused to leave me alone. He was persistent, and his mouth made such dirty promises that I found myself getting lost in the moment. Instead of killing him, I agreed to his proposal instead.
But it’s morning now, our night is over, and I realize that I have been lost in the moment for far too long and I need to get out of here. I glance over at Xavier, who is sleeping beside me. The sheets pool around his waist, giving me another glimpse of the body that kept me up for hours. His toned muscles are clearly defined beneath his skin, the lines and contours of his biceps and triceps visible even in the subdued light of the room. My eyes linger on his abs, each one defined by a ridge that runs down the center, and the deep V of his lower abdomen that disappears beneath the sheets. I want to reach out and touch him, just one last time, but I am afraid he’ll wake up, so I keep my hands to myself.
His eyes are closed, and his features are relaxed. He looks peaceful—he looks dead because he is perfectly still, and his chest doesn’t rise and fall with breath. I laugh silently at myself because he is dead, he is a vampire and doesn’t need to breathe.
The elders taught me everything about the supernatural beings that roam the world. Their hatred for vampires was evident, and they made sure that I knew all their weaknesses and strengths. From their lessons, I know that the first light of dawn will send a vampire into a deep sleep, rendering them immobile until nightfall, so it is the perfect time to make my escape.
My body is still sore from the previous night’s events—the fight, the sex—but I can’t afford to wait. The sun is my ally, and I have to take advantage of its power. The only problem is that with the number of times Xavier and I got acquainted during the night, his scent is probably all over me, branding me with his mark. I discreetly sniff my arm and recoil at the overwhelming intensity of it. An unmistakable aroma clings to me like a second skin—a heady mixture of sex, blood, and the scent of the undead. I’ll have to sneak into the trailer park without anyone noticing and take a shower to scrub Xavier Thorne off me before I can face my pack and pretend like nothing has happened. But it won’t be easy, as werewolves have a sharp sense of smell, and they can pick up even the slightest hint of a foreign scent.
Why did I think it would be a good idea to sleep with a vampire? Out of all the men in Shadowbrook, I had to go and pick him. I need to be more careful with my choices.
Slipping out of bed, my toes sink into the lush, deep-pile carpet in shades of black and red. I move silently; my body is trained to make the least amount of noise possible. Every step I take is deliberate, my muscles tense and ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.
I make my way over to the tall, wooden armoire that stands against the wall; the doors are carved with designs of ivy leaves and vines. It is a work of art, but I have no time to appreciate its beauty. As I glance at the armoire, my thoughts drift to the cheap, outdated furniture that fills my family’s trailer back home. The contrast between the armoire and the worn-out items I’m accustomed to is striking. But thinking about it now is a luxury I can’t afford. My clothes and weapons lie in a discarded pile in front of the armoire, and I quickly dress and strap my weapons to my body.
I throw a glance over my shoulder, but Xavier hasn’t stirred and is still lost in his dreams. I feel a twinge of guilt, but I know that I have to leave before he wakes up. The morning after is always awkward, and I’m not going to stick around for it.
With one last look at the sleeping vampire, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. The walls are painted in deep shades of red, and portraits of who I assume are Xavier’s ancestors line the walls.
“Yeah, this isn’t creepy at all,” I mutter to myself.
At the end of the hallway, a large staircase leads to the foyer; its steps creaking under my weight as I descend. The foyer is just as dark as the hallway, with large double doors leading to the outside world.
Quietly, I make my way towards the double doors. I unlock the doors and pull them open, the hinges protesting with a slight groan. I can see the tree-lined driveway past the marble-tiled porch, the beckoning call of freedom just beyond my fingertips. But as I try to step outside, a force slams into my body, jarring me to a stop.
“What the hell?!”
There’s this invisible wall, like it’s made of cling wrap or something, shimmering faintly in the morning light. I press my fingers against it, hoping it’s some kind of illusion, but nope, it’s real. My skin tingles as I push harder against the invisible barrier. The shield refuses to give in, standing firm like an unbreakable wall. It’s as if the very air has taken on a life of its own, denying me freedom. I feel the power of the shield, pulsing with energy like a living thing. Waves of force ripple across the surface, radiating outward.
Frustration and anger simmer inside me as I look up at the ceiling in the direction I came from. Xavier is behind this. He’s somehow trapped me here, and I am not about to let him get away with it. I should have known he couldn’t be trusted. If he thinks he can keep me locked up here like some kind of replenishable meal or sex slave, he is in for a nasty surprise.
