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Priest grins. “That’s a good girl. Was it so hard to answer me honestly?” he says, moving his hand lower, slipping a finger in the waistband of my shorts, and slowly pulling them down. My willpower leaves me the second they hit the floor, and I swallow hard.
This is not what I thought he meant by making me forget, but I find myself not saying a damn thing.
He cups my mound and slides a finger through my slit, smirking at my reaction to his touch. “Spread your legs nice and wide for me so I can take care of you.”
My heart pounds faster as my current predicament hits me, but Priest’s finger slipping over my clit pushes the apprehension away, and I open myself to him. I know I’m being a fucking weakling right now, but if I’m going to die anyway…
“Hmm, you can be such a good girl when you let go of your fears, little lamb,” Priest says in that low, raspy voice that sends a shiver up my spine. “That smart mouth made me want to fuck it so many times.”
“But you like it,” slips out of my mouth before I can stop myself, and he chuckles.
“I’m not admitting to anything,” he says with amusement, pushing a finger inside me. I hear a low rumble in his chest before he starts fucking me slowly with two fingers while his thumb works around my hardened, sensitive nub.
He picks up his pace, and I fall forward, my head resting on his shoulders and my moaning becoming louder. I gasp and arch my back from the wall, grasping onto his shoulders for purchase at the feel of his thick fingers sliding inside me. I try to stifle my moan, but it escapes my lips before I can stop it.
My cheeks flush, and my ears are on fire when I realize that I’m moving my hips and meeting the thrusts of his fingers fucking me.
“That’s it; show me how much you want this,” he says appreciatively, and my legs start trembling. “Tremble all over my fingers, little lamb, let go for me.”
I dig my nails into his leather jacket when I tip over the edge, stifling a scream as my release hits me with a force I’ve never felt before. My body jerks wildly, I murmur his name, and that seems to do something to him.
Priest grabs my head and crashes his mouth to mine; his tongue begs for entry, and I happily oblige. His expensive smokey whiskey scent engulfs my senses, and he tastes just as good as he smells, if not better.
I slip my arms around his waist, feeling his hard body and molding to his touch while feeling completely dwarfed by his massive size.
His hand moves from my waist to my neck, and he squeezes it, and the more our kissing becomes frenzied, the more common sense leaves my body. He groans into my mouth, sending a yummy shiver up my spine that causes goosebumps to form all over my body.
But everything comes to a screeching halt when Priest suddenly steps back from me with a triumphant smirk on his face. He runs the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip and groans appreciatively.
“Hmm, ruining you tastes sweeter than any Fae’s blood ever could,” he says, then leans close to my ear. “If we keep this up, I might just get addicted.”
“I’d say you already are,” I whisper back and grin, slipping my hand lower and stroking the outline of his cock against his jeans. “Unless this means something else?”
He sucks in a breath and groans. “Touché, little lamb,” he says before turning on his heel and walking out of the bedroom.
I just know that I’m going to have another fucked up sex dream tonight.
GABRIEL
Iclose Katherine’s door behind me and lean my head against it. Whatever just happened between us should not have happened; I don’t even know how I fucking managed to pull away before devouring her entirely.
Breathing out a strained sigh, I walk towards my Prospect’s door and bang on it. “Keep it the fuck down!” I growl before storming out of the place and heading towards my Harley.
What the fuck is wrong with me? One taste of forbidden fruit, and I’m hooked like a junkie. The way her body felt against mine, the sounds of her moaning, calling out my name when she reached her climax, the sweet taste of her mouth.
I hate to admit it to myself, but she’s right. I’m already fucking addicted.
“Told you to stop fucking with her,” Valentine says as he slinks out of the shadows. I roll my eyes when I see him, then mount my Harley.
“Not in the mood for a lecture right now,” I say, with no specific place in mind. “Save it for when I get back.”
I’m about to put on my helmet when he grabs my forearm and shoots me a look that causes me to frown.
“She’s her daughter, Gabe,” he says, the concern in his voice slipping through the anger.
Then everything starts making more sense to me: his behavior over the last few days since I’ve held her here, his moodiness, and his refusal to tend to her when I asked.
How did it fucking slip my mind that the woman I hate the most happened to be the daughter of his late Fated?
