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Chapter Thirteen
Devin groaned and flopped to her stomach, hand stealing between her thighs as awareness tried to drag her up. Her dreams had been spectacular, the feel of a rough, warm body moving over hers clear enough to be felt even now. Whining low in her throat, she pressed her hand against her pussy and rolled her hips for the friction it’d bring.
She could almost feel him stretching her open, forcing her far smaller body to take him as she writhed in wanton abandon against the sheets. Fingers skimmed up her spine, a delicious scratch given to the delicate column of her neck before it began its circuit once more. Inhaling a shuddery breath, Devin moaned into the pillow to muffle the sounds of her need as her fingers plucked and rubbed at her glistening folds. Fingertip poised over the throbbing nub of her clit, her breath left her on a stuttering cry as she finally rubbed it in swift circles. Hips jerking to the vicious rhythm she set, the scent of slick was thick on her tongue alongside the woodsy scent of the male.
She needed more. So very much more. Her small fingers would never stretch her wide enough, would never penetrate deep enough. Devin whined and bucked in a desperate attempt to fill that aching need.
“More,” she rasped.
“You have to tell me what you want, Devin. Say the words.”
Words were paltry, useless things to her now. Snarling her distress, she bit at the pillow for something to hold on to as a wave of heat stole through her body, preceding a rush of slick. Readying her body for the rough timbre of the voice beside her.
“Devin, I’m not—”
“Shut up and fuck me, Daniel,” she growled into the downy softness, words garbled beyond meaning as she tipped her hips up in offering.
Apparently it was enough. His weight covered her back, the thickness of his head notched against her opening. A vicious call crackled through her spine as he gave an experimental thrust.
Devin was more than ready for his violence. Gave a taste of her own as one hand reached back to leave long livid welts in the wide flank above her when he didn’t give her the rapid slap of his hips she begged wordlessly for.
He took his time. Torturing her with the slow, easy roll. Invading and retreating in a measured pace that filled her to the point of pain only to make her whine for more. Making her delirious with pleasure as it built in a steady rush, crackling through her synapses and sizzling across her skin.
He made her work for every grinding inch, every surge of bliss. Refusing to give her the violence she craved even as she lashed out and snarled beneath him. Rey had never been so gentle.
He feared for the baby.
An Alpha would love his child. Would want to protect it, even from himself. He didn’t want to dare, to risk, for fear of hurting the baby. Devin crumpled to the bed, sniffling hard as tears suddenly sprung to her eyes.
Stupid hormones.
“You won’t hurt me,” Devin said through her quiet tears, twisting as much as the position would allow while reaching back to bring Rey closer. Feeling the steady beat of his heart against her back, she wondered at why he strangled the bond so she didn’t feel him inside of her in more ways than one. She kissed him, long and deep. Mouth slanting over his in an awkward reassurance.
Peeling her eyes open, she smiled against his lips. Sleep tousled hair stuck up in every direction, lazy green gaze bright and hot where it scorched over her skin.
Green. Devin’s brow furrowed, dots connecting with molasses thick briskness. Not Rey’s rich umber despite the ring of golden light around the pupil. The hair too red, not the inky locks of her mate.
“No,” Devin shrieked, clawing at the bed to get away from Max and the oppressive weight of him at her back.
Terror sparked through her, rending her senseless as he roared his negation and hauled her back beneath him. Going limp her only recourse, she sobbed into the bedding and shook her head. She didn’t want this. Hadn’t realized it was him. Her dreams had been full of a faceless man, not Rey, and that had been betrayal enough. As Max thrust home hard, burying his cock to the hilt to make Devin feel every inch of him, her self-loathing and fear were thick on her tongue.
Then he was gone. Body ripped away so fast it hurt, the door slamming to reverberate through the walls as he left.
Devin cried into the blankets, curling around the aching emptiness.
What had she done?
It felt like hours later before Max returned, fully dressed and bearing a tray of food. He was brusque and cold at the start, keeping his distance from Devin as she hunched over the tray and tried not to make too large a target for his ire.
She’d denied him after practically begging him. Devin was surprised enough that he’d stopped, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t finish what she’d started if she pushed him.
Picking at the food, she had little appetite with the tension knotting through her stomach. Still, she ate under his watchful gaze and tried to placate him.
Though she worried that he’d begin again as soon as she finished, there was no dragging out the meal. Setting her fork aside, she remained curled over her middle in a defensive posture, head hanging low in her shame. He remained where he was, the silence stretching out into eternity.
“Go shower.” Max snatched the tray up, leaving before Devin could think of anything to say.
“Oh Gods,” she hissed, rushing to the bathroom as she realized her mistake.
