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My hands reach for him, my fingers tug his hair, pulling at the strands, and I know I must be hurting him, but I can’t stop myself. My thighs tremble as he slips a finger into me, slowly fucking me with it. A second digit joins the first, and he opens me up, just enough, for his tongue to dart into me, causing me to cry out his name over and over again.
“That’s it, little wolf. Come all over me,” he orders gruffly against my heated core, and another shudder races through me as he continues his ministration, turning me inside out with merely his fingers and tongue.
When I can’t move anymore, he finally rises, his eyes hooded with desire as he looks over me.
“A beautiful work of art,” he tells me as he takes in every piece of ink I have. “Did Fergus ever get angry at you for doing this?”
Nodding, “with the first one, I was rebelling, and he locked me out of the house, telling me I wouldn’t live under his roof with tattoos. I stayed with Dahlia for two weeks before he came looking for me.” I’ve never told anyone this before, but I’m not afraid of confessing it to Etienne.
“Do they mean anything?” His fingertips linger on the ink as he questions me, and goose bumps rise on every inch of my skin at his tender touch.
“Some of them yeah, the roses were my mother’s favorite flower. The swallows flying to freedom.”
Etienne’s gaze snaps to mine. “You wanted to run away.”
I nod. “I wanted to run all these years, but I didn’t. Thankfully I had Dahlia, she got me through some tough times. The rest of the ink I had drawn up to fill up my arm. Fergus ignored me. I think by then he’d given up trying to be a father.”
“I’m sorry you had to endure a life like that,” he tells me before he continues his tracing of my ink. “I’m going to learn every line, every word, and every pattern on your body.” The promise steals the breath from my lungs. It feels as if I’m being pulled under, into the depths with him and the feeling overwhelms me.
“That’s going to take a really long time,” I lift my hips, feeling his hardness against the smooth material of his boxer briefs.
“It is,” he chuckles, shoving the waistband of his underwear down to his thighs. I’m met with the delicious view of his thick, hard erection. The tip glistens, and I can’t help but lick my lips. “You coming to have a taste, little wolf?” He quips, his dark brow arching, and I’m moving before he can say another word.
I lie on my stomach, my mouth inches from him, and I decide to taunt him just as he did me. Darting my tongue out, I tease the glistening head of his shaft, slowly wrapping my lips around it. I look up to meet his animalistic stare—dark and feral.
His head drops back, his fingers grip my ponytail, and he holds me steady. When he looks down at me again, it’s as if a darkness has overtaken him, and his smirk is pure filth.
“That’s what you were hungry for all night,” he speaks, but his control over my movements doesn’t allow me to respond in any way. His hips move back and forth, his cock thickens and throbs inside my mouth, and I know he’s close. Just as I expect him to find his release, he pulls out and sits back; his breathing is ragged as he watches me.
“Is that all you’ve got, Mr. Durand?” I taunt him, licking my lips. I know I’m only poking the beast, but right now, he looks so good I want him to devour me.
He doesn’t respond, he merely crawls over me, pushing me onto my back as he nestles between my thighs. I watch as he reaches in the nightstand, pulling out a foil packet. With dark eyes that never leave mine, he tears it open and lifts himself just high enough to sheath his erection before he’s back in place.
“It’s time for you to show all those assholes downstairs who you belong to.” I can’t respond because he slips into me, sliding deep inside, causing my back to arch, pushing my breasts against him as my nipples brush along his smooth chest. The movement sends electric currents shooting through every part of me, and my toes curl as pleasure takes hold.
I’ve never known anything like this. The pure adrenaline coursing through my veins as I feel him fuck me into the mattress. He’s not gentle, and he’s definitely not calm. All that restraint and control he’s held onto for as long as we’ve been in this emotional tug of war has finally been unleashed, and my body is taking the punishment.
