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“You want a thrill, Lauren Sterling?” My voice rasps deeper than normal.
She lifts her beautiful face. There’s an openness to her expression I would battle thousands to be privy to witness. “What do you have in mind, Abe Oakley?”
“You’re gonna need a safe word, princess.”
Lauren
I draw in a sharp breath. Abe’s words knock me off balance, and I fall against him.
Instead of steadying me, he loops an arm around my back and pulls my body up tight against his. His skin burns hot beneath his button-down, activating every nerve ending in contact with him.
Despite the flush of heat, goosebumps race along my arms. I’m already drunk on the thrill he gave me jumping off the cliff, and now, another hit of dopamine floods my veins.
Safe word. I’ll need a safe word.
I’m not sure what he intends, but the desire that jolts through my body is electric. Hell, yes. Whatever he’s thinking, I’m in.
“Arizona!“ I blurt.
His smile turns feral. “Arizona is your safe word?”
I don’t know why I chose it. I guess because there’s some magic in the way my mom and grandma used to invoke it. I grew up thinking Arizona was some mystical magical place, not the baked earth and rock mountains of Wolf Ridge. Until I saw a wolf turn into a man right before my eyes last week, I would have argued it’s the furthest thing from magical. But now, I’m beginning to wonder–maybe they sensed something special here that I didn’t pick up on before.
“Arizona means stop,” I say, as if I know anything at all about how this works. I mean I’ve heard of safe words before, but the activities that require them are a little foggy to me.
Abe’s eyes glow in the dark. I see his wolf right beneath the surface, and it sends shivers down my entire body.
“I will give you a sixty-second head start.” I love the deep rumble of his voice. The way it seems to enter my body and vibrate. “You run, I chase.” His voice grows more devious as he speaks. “When I catch you, princess”– he lifts a lock of my hair, letting the curl slide around his finger– “I get to do whatever the fuck I want with you unless I hear that word.”
Oh gawd. My pelvic floor lifts and squeezes.
My panties soak.
Everything that comes out of Abe Oakley’s mouth is pure sin, and I want exactly what he’s offering.
I don’t wait for him to tell me when to go, I just push away from him and take off running.
“Be careful, Pearls,” he calls after me as I stumble in the darkness on my three-inch heels. “Don’t hurt yourself before I have the chance to.”
I ignore him and keep on running, his words bouncing around the inside of my head. Don’t hurt yourself before I have the chance to.
He wants to hurt me.
I should find that gross, but instead I find it delicious.
And I am delirious–thrills of anticipation, fear, and lust crash through me like ocean waves as I find my way out of the canyon to a steep hill I can climb.
I hear only one soft foot tread behind me before Abe catches me with an arm around my waist and a hand under my thigh. He lifts me, face to the sky, my pelvis resting on the broad muscled expanse of his shoulder, my feet kicking up toward the stars.
I grip his arm and shriek, laughter clogging my throat. My dress falls down around my waist. Abe runs swiftly up the side of the hill like it’s not a steep incline. Like he doesn’t have an extra hundred pounds of weight on his shoulder.
When we reach the top, he spin-tosses me in the air and catches me by the waist facing him. It’s better than a rollercoaster. So much better. Abe’s showing off his strength and prowess while giving me the ride of my life. He walks with me suspended high above his head. My back hits tree bark, and then I’m pinned, my cocktail dress riding up my thighs, my feet dangling above the ground.
I look down at this glorious man-beast, thrilled at his feral intent. He’s not looking at my face. He’s eye-to-eye with the juncture of my thighs. His nostrils flare–oh God! Didn’t he say he could tell when I’m aroused?
Time seems to shimmer and stand still. My body glories in the fact that I’m living. That I feel alive. Lust kicks through my veins. Adrenaline from playing cat and mouse.
And then he strikes–swift and sure. I choke as he opens his mouth, covers my entire pussy with it. The heat of his breath permeates the fabric of my panties. His teeth scrape lightly until they snag on the string of my miniscule panties, and then he tears it with a single snag on his lengthened canine.
