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The idea, however, was entirely mine. When Francine had offered to take the twins for part of the weekend, I knew having a break was just the thing to help Slater.
He’d done so much for us.
I adjusted my skirt and my top, feeling awkward for wearing clothes, but feeling awkward without them. Geeze, my body just wanted to be conflicting, didn’t it?
I gestured to the blanket. “Dig in.”
Dusty onyx-blue skies stretched over our heads as I kicked back and rested a plate of pie on my stomach. Slater looked amused, but I knew that look, and I wasn’t about to ask him what he was thinking. I had a good feeling.
I let my skirt bunch up around my thighs and dropped the straps of my tank, letting the bite mark soak up the moonlight that peeked from behind the floating clouds. This felt like the only place we could be ourselves. If I showed off this mark in town or—gods forbid—in the neighborhood, then we’d never hear the end of it.
Slater would get rejected too. And I didn’t want that to happen to him. When his family had to break away from the Frostcrown pack, they had to give up their status as a powerful shifter family just like us. Though our paths had led to different places. Ours had gone into the shadows while theirs had taken them to golden fields.
A slice of anger cut through my gut. I adjusted the plate, plucked a piece of pie from it, and popped it into my mouth. Despite its delicious sweetness and decadent flavor, I longed to tell Slater about what had happened after our pack fell apart.
He touched my shoulder. Tenderness took hold as he set the plate aside and hovered over me, blocking the rest of the light. His hair created a blanket. We were in our own little world. So, what did it matter what happened outside of this clearing? Technically, it didn’t exist. Things from the past were dead and gone. There was no use digging them up.
Deceiver.
I blinked away the horrible thought. “Slater, what are you doing?”
“I want to taste the cherry on your lips.”
“You’re weird.”
He grinned mischievously. “You like it though.”
“So, what if I do?”
He traced my chin with the tip of his finger, drawing a long and contented sigh from my lips. Damn him for being able to do that. Arguments could never last long with Slater when he was this talented with his hands. As he caressed my cheek with his left hand, his right hand dipped out of view, trailing along the fabric of my clothes to find my skin.
Goosebumps exploded across my stomach.Bingo. He found an available patch of flesh. He teased the waistband of my skirt, trailing beneath it to tug at my panties, drawing shapes across the cloth covering my slit. Every bit of my attention rushed to that point, and I found myself clawing at the ground on either side of me. I couldn’t move. And yet I didn’t want to move.
A grim chuckle echoed from his lips. Alarms went off. Desire tripled. Everything seemed to change in a singular moment, heat coiling in my core and causing me to prop my legs open. For him, of course, because he silently commanded it. Not a word needed to pass between us for him to take control.
I gladly gave it to him.
Nimble fingers darted beneath my skirt, traced the outline of my slit, rubbed around until he found a loose spot to plunge beneath. Arousal slicked his fingers as he swept through my folds, causing my hips to buck as he slid my tank top down, down,down… He kissed my left nipple, setting me aflame.
I whined when he tore off my panties. He returned to my slit, eagerly plummeting between my folds with one finger while his thumb massaged irregular shapes into my clit. Wet heat coated his plunge and grunts capped each slurp. He sucked my nipple into his mouth, sheer pleasure cutting me right down the middle, whole pieces coming undone from his attention.
Without warning, he stopped. I wiggled in place, trying to find his hand to put it back where it belonged, his lips turning up into an evil smile as he tore open my skirt. He slid off his pants and then guided my hand to his cock, excitement dragging the moans right out of me as I got on my knees and pushed him back.
He grabbed my hips and planted me on his lap, sitting up to hold me in place. “You better ask nicely, Ginny darling.”
I bit my lower lip.
“Go on,” he urged while teasing my entrance with his cock. “Ask me to fuck you.”
Words failed me. Thoughts raced. If there was any inkling of control left, I wasn’t sure I could wrestle it into submission.
The smile grew on his lips. “Ginny…”
“Please, please,” I blurted. “Fuck me, Slater. Fuck me like you own me.”
A hot wave crashed through me when he slid inside. Gods, he was just toying with me, wasn’t he? And I was loving every second of it, totally engrossed in the tease and denial, utterly abandoned to the game we played—and played so well. My head tilted back and I unleashed my power, rolling my hips hard enough to pop them out of place, but falling into a sweet pace with him instead.
He caught every thrust and granted me each kiss I requested. He clutched my hips, lifted me up in the air, let me ride back down as fast as I wanted. My lower back would suffer tomorrow, but I didn’t even care. I just wanted to wear myself out with him. I wanted to get so much of him that I would feel sick in his absence.
