Chapter 9
Every thick, corded muscle in Weston’s body trembles with his barely restrained hunger as he devours me with a gaze that promises what he’s about to do with his mouth.
That look alone steals my breath.
It comes out in a hot rush, and my hands shake as I run them through his silver hair, waiting for him to act. Silky strands flow between my fingers, and his rough, calloused palms roam up my bare thighs to my wet core.
He slips one finger inside me slowly, cautiously, almost like he’s afraid he might scare me off by acting too quickly or aggressively, but I’m too far gone to run. Too far into this to think about all the reasons it shouldn’t be happening. Too needy to say no when what my body wants is all of him.
I squeeze around him, and he issues a throaty growl of approval, then drops to his knees in front of me and buries his face between my legs.
Rough beard abrades my inner thighs a second before his hot tongue and lips are there, licking and sucking the sensitive flesh. My body twitches, and he reaches up with his free hand and pushes away the hem of my tank top, splaying his forearm out across my hip to keep me down and prone.
Completely at his mercy.
Spread out across the library table, on top of his books and papers that crinkle under me with each slight movement.
Weston doesn’t seem to care.
He toys with me. Running his wet tongue along my thighs. Through my core. Nipping and sucking at me. Slowly thrusting his finger without giving me the intense contact I really need.
The man is ruthless, taking what he wants—my submission—but not giving me what I need until I’m vibrating, my nails digging into the back of his head, hips grinding as much as his hold will allow.
He pulls his finger out and dips his tongue inside me for the first time. His rumbled groan of approval ripples through my body, and I arch under his forearm, trying to bow my hips and find more friction. Allow him to get even deeper.
But he seems intent on controlling me, controlling this, ensuring we move at his pace.
One that is agonizingly slow.
He looks up at me from between my legs, the predatory gleam in his liquid gaze enough to make me clench on his tongue and him moan.
“Weston…” I thread my fingers in his thick, unruly hair, the silver locks flashing in the light emanating from the lamp on the table just to my side. Twisting in his hold again, I finally beg. “Please.”
The man doesn’t relent, gliding his tongue through me, thrusting it inside, sucking every other damn part of me between his lips without ever touching the throbbing nub at the apex of my thighs that will send me soaring.
My body shakes like a goddamn earthquake starting, the table creaking and legs rattling with every movement. But it doesn’t deter him from his mission.
He just keeps going, continues torturing me with the burn of his beard, soft brush of his lips, hot lick of his tongue, and then thrusts two fingers up inside me. His mouth finally finds my clit, and he pulls it between his lips and bites down.
White-hot ecstasy scorches through me—the burn blissful and painful at the same time. Everything I want but definitely shouldn’t have all focused in one spot. Then he curls his fingers and starts probing in time as he sucks, and my orgasm builds rapidly, twisting me tighter and building me higher and higher until I’m standing at that ledge he brought me to the other night, looking down at the valley, knowing full well what lies beneath me and what will happen if I fall over it.
But with a simple flick of his tongue, that’s exactly what I do.
I gasp, my back arching up off the solid wood, my hips thrusting against his face, pussy clenching around his fingers as he swallows my release, dragging my orgasm out until lights flash behind my closed lids and all the air rushes from my lungs on a surprised, silent plea for it to never.
It rolls on forever, threatening to drown me in pleasure, bordering on pain, until I finally manage to catch my breath as it starts to ebb.
I slowly sink back down onto the table and allow my eyes to flutter open, but the look in his tells me we’re far from finished.
Oh, shit…
Feral.
That’s the only way to describe it.
Like a pure predator examining its prey. The Beast really is flashing a warning as he stands and pulls his fingers from me before immediately sliding them into his mouth.
He reaches for the button of his jeans with his free hand and pops it, tugging down the zipper as he licks my release from his fingers. His tongue snakes out to ensure he hasn’t missed a drop, and he groans his approval.
“You taste fucking incredible, Beauty. Sweet like honey, just as I dreamed you would…”
His fingers tug at the hem of my T-shirt, and he pulls it up and over my head and tosses it behind him, exposing me fully to the chilly air in the library and to him for the first time.
My nipples, already hard as rocks, pebble more, and his eyes zero in on them. He licks his lips, then dips his head, sucking one of them into his mouth and biting down harshly in a way that makes my whole body scream for him, even though I just came.
I score my nails down his back, clutching at his hips with my thighs, trying to draw him closer to me.
He groans and releases my taut peak, then focuses on its twin, giving it the same treatment.
Each flick and suck and scrape of his teeth draws me closer to another cataclysmic orgasm.
I undulate under him, trying to find the friction I need. Desperate and feeling as wanton as I have in my entire life.
This is what true desire feels like.
Not sweaty gropes after a night at the bar.
This.
Primal.
Unstoppable.
He finally releases my nipple from his mouth with a pop, then shifts back and shoves his jeans down to his hips, letting his cock spring free.
Sweet baby Jesus.
My pussy clenches as I stare at him—thick, hard, so ready for me. And now, I see another reason he may have earned his nickname.
Because good GOD.
I swallow thickly, staring at it, and he reaches forward and tugs me to the edge of the table. My head spins, making me waver slightly, and his strong arm wraps around my back, keeping me upright.
His lips feather over mine. “Are you sure you want to do this, Beauty?”
I know it’s the only chance I’m going to get.
It’s already taken everything he has in him not to drive into me.
I can feel it in the tension of his muscles, how they each twitch and quiver under my hands, but I trail them over his chest, down over his abs, and grasp his thick length in my palm.
He groans, his eyes closing as he drops his forehead to mine. “Be sure, Beauty.”
“I am.”
A sigh slips from his lips that almost sounds like resignation, and he aligns the head of his cock and slams into me.
Callista tightens her pussy around me like a vise, cocooning me inside her, preventing me from moving even if I could force myself to, and I groan, clenching my teeth, trying desperately not to lose control after only being inside her for three fucking seconds.
But there’s something about this woman that steals my ability to think rationally, to act rationally, to do the right thing—as our current position demonstrates.
I pause for a second, buried inside her, giving her a moment to adjust to my size while I search for any semblance of sanity.
She clings to me, her mouth open on a silent gasp, head tipped back, frozen in the moment before she finally relaxes her death grip on my cock and neck slightly.
My signal to move.
I draw my hips back and plunge into her again, rocking her backward several inches across the table. “Fuck.”
Gritting out through clenched teeth, my curse mirrors the one that falls from her lips as she scores her nails over the back of my neck.
This isn’t going to work.
I can’t get the leverage I want with her spread on the table like this.
I need to drive deeper, need to fuck her harder, need more of everything.
Grasping her hips, I lift her easily from the wooden surface and turn us, walking until her back hits the books on the shelf on the far wall.
She releases a tiny gasp at the jolt to her body, tearing her mouth from mine as her shoulders collide with the bindings.
Callista turns her head slightly to look behind her, but I don’t give her any time to consider the change in scenery. I just withdraw and push into her again.
With the bookcase now at her back, her body pinned between me and it, I finally have the leverage I need to drive to the hilt, bottoming out so deep inside her that it feels like her cunt was custom-built to fit my cock.
She moans and rolls her hips slightly, somehow taking me a fraction deeper. “Fuck, Weston…”
My name tumbling from her lips is like kerosene being thrown on an already blazing inferno.
She isn’t thinking about anyone else right now. Isn’t fantasizing about any other man being inside of her while I fuck her senseless.
It’s me.
Not The Beast.
Even though, at the moment, I sure as hell feel like one.
The pure, animalistic need to drive into her relentlessly, to make her quiver and shake and fall apart in my arms, spurs me on, keeps my hips driving when I should probably give her some reprieve.
The bookshelf rattles behind her, and if it wasn’t mounted to the wall so thoroughly, I might actually be worried about it coming down on us. Several books shift forward on the shelf next to us, but I brace my hand against them to keep them in as she digs her heels into my lower back, ensuring we remain firmly connected.
I capture her next groan with my mouth, tangling my tongue with hers to ensure she can taste her own release still lingering there.
Callista is all things sweet and pure. She may not be innocent, but she’s everything I should never have. All that a man like me doesn’t deserve and shouldn’t taint with the blood on my hands and stain on my soul.
The thought almost makes me draw back, almost makes me pull out and walk away, but she clamps down on my cock, like she can feel my hesitation and wants to keep me there, buried inside her, because she needs this as badly as I do.
And maybe she does.
Maybe this hasn’t just been about being lonely up here the last few weeks. Maybe Callista has something driving her to seek this out with me. Something I can’t possibly comprehend because I’ve never led her life, never walked in her shoes. The same way she can’t know what drives me because I can’t tell her.
Her tongue lashes with mine, thrusting and twisting, warring for dominance I’m not going to allow her to take. This is my home, my land, my fucking library, and she’s mine.
The bookshelf rattles with every violent thrust as I bottom out inside her, drawing gasps against my lips, begging and praise.
“Oh God, please, Weston. I need…”
I roll my hips and give a sharp upward thrust, ensuring contact with her clit each time I impale her. Her head drops back to the books, mouth falling open, eyes closed, offering her pale, elegant neck to me.
It’s too tempting an opportunity to pass up.
Leaning forward, I press my lips to her collarbone, working my way across the long expanse of skin and over her cheek to her mouth again.
I brush a kiss on the corner of it. “Fucking hell, Callista. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
A little moan is the only response she manages as she clings to my shoulders, her nails biting in there as her heels dig into my lower back.
Two books tumble from the shelf to our left, but I don’t bother to look and see what they are or if they’ve been damaged.
Fuck if they have been.
It’s worth it for this moment with her. This absolutely surreal experience of losing myself, if only for a few minutes, in this woman. To have her take me so beautifully, to need it as badly as I do.
I brush my lips over her ear. “You love it, don’t you, Beauty? Taking my cock.”
She twitches between me and the shelves, offering a breathy pant and nod.
“Tell me. Tell me how much you need it.”
“God…” She shakes her head back and forth frantically, still clawing at my back, her hips bowing to meet mine. “I need it. I can’t. God, I need it.”
Every time she clenches down on me, I have to stave off the hot sizzle at the base of my spine that threatens to make me unleash deep inside her.
Not until she comes again.
I want her pussy rippling along my cock and dragging it from me. Taking my hand from the bookcase, I grip her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Open your eyes, Beauty.”
She does, and the hazy, lust-soaked green meets mine.
“You’re going to come on my cock. Do you understand?”
Callista whimpers and nods, then turns her head and sinks her teeth into my palm.
Sweet mother of God.
My balls seize up, and I still my hips to keep from coming instantly.
I jerk my hand away and tunnel it into her hair, tugging her head back and angling it so I can take her mouth again in another soul-searing, mind-bending kiss that makes me forget everything but the feel of her pussy wrapped around my cock, her naked flesh pressed to mine, and the sound she makes as I plow into her.
It’s impossible to get close enough.
To have enough of my Beauty.
I want it all the more.
Jerking my mouth away, I twist her hair around my wrist and tug her neck back so I can suck at that spot just behind her ear. She moans and arches, grinding against me, ensuring she’s getting friction exactly where she needs it.
Her body starts to tremble so hard that the bookcase rattles and four more books tumble from the side. I snap my hips harder and push faster, quickly reaching a pace I didn’t know possible. Her mouth falls open as she comes and her pussy clamps down on my cock, rippling and drawing out my own release as I thrust into her as hard and deep as I can, slamming her back against the shelf and cementing myself deep inside her.
My roar as I come matches the name everyone gave me because I truly do feel like a beast in this moment.
A beast who’s just done the unthinkable.