18 - Frankie
18
Frankie
—
“Get your hands off her!” Kody slams into Doyle, sending my heart into overdrive.
“Stop! Stop!” I try to shove them apart, but it’s like moving two brick walls.
With Kody’s weight loss, Doyle outmatches him in bulk and strength. But he can’t rival Kody’s savage fury and predatory speed.
They crash into the wall, swinging their fists, wrestling, spitting, and knocking over an end table.
“Stop it! Both of you!” I leap into the fray, palming their faces and catching my skin on sharp teeth. “Fuck!”
At the sound of my yelp, they break apart.
Eyes locked, they heave through seething breaths, dousing the room in aggression and testosterone.
“He’s been touching you, hasn’t he?” Kody snarls. “He’s trying to take you from me!”
“Frankie?” Doyle steps back, his features scrunched in confusion. “What’s going on?”
“Calm down.” I flatten my hands on Kody’s pumped-up chest, trying to hold him back. “It’s not what you think.”
“I saw the way he looks at you.” His body trembles with barely contained ire. “He had his hands all over you.”
“Kody, please.” My voice shatters. “You’re scaring me.”
His eyes fly to mine, softening for a split second. An agonized sound wrenches from him, and he spins away, pacing through the room with his hands in his hair.
Doyle clears his throat, regaining some of his composure. “It’s clear there are some strong emotions at play here. Perhaps we should continue this another time.”
“You think?” Kody thrusts a finger at the door. “Get the fuck out!”
“No! This isn’t your call.” I ball my hands at my sides. “Other people in this house want to get help.” I give Doyle a quick scan, looking for injuries. No blood or bruises. Just a little ruffled. “If you want to leave, I understand.”
“I’m here for the day. If you direct me to the restroom, I’ll freshen up.” He wipes a hand down his button-up shirt, checking his appearance. “Will you send for Leo and Monty?”
“Yes, of course. The bathroom is right across the hall. I’m sorry about—”
“Don’t fucking apologize to him.” Kody stalks toward me.
I shoot an apologetic look at Doyle and slip into the hall, knowing Kody will charge after me.
My cheeks heat with embarrassment as I march toward the gym. My head throbs. My insides knot, and if he says one wrong thing, I’m going to light his ass up in front of God and everyone.
“Woman.” Kody chuffs and grunts down my neck like a pissed-off bear.
I hold up my middle finger and round the corner, colliding with a hard chest and the scent of woodsy body wash.
“What the—?” Leo catches me, softening our crash. “Hey.” He lifts my chin, instantly sensing my distress. “What’s wrong?”
“Your brother showed his ass.”
Kody scowls, folding his arms.
Monty strides into view, fresh out of a shower like Leo. He takes in our stand-off and immediately goes still, his blue eyes icing over.
Great. More alpha energy. Just what I need.
“Dr. Whitaker is waiting for you both in the den.” I gesture behind me.
Neither of them moves.
I glance at the bandage on Monty’s neck and sigh. “Kody and I need to talk. Please go to your session, and we’ll regroup afterward, okay?”
“Come on.” Monty jerks his chin at Leo and strolls down the hall.
Leo exchanges a look with Kody. Whatever passes between them satisfies Leo enough to turn and follow Monty. I watch them go, my heart still pounding as I pivot back to Kody.
Words abandon me in the vicious fury of his glare. All I can muster is a guttural sound of frustration and disappointment.
Veins pulse in my throat, a drumbeat for the war song I’m going to unleash in his face.
But not here.
I storm off toward the nearest exit, stepping outside into the sunshine. Kody trails me, his footfalls relentless.
I can’t believe him…attacking my therapist like that.
“Frankie, wait.” He’s close enough to stuff his drugging scent up my nose. Winter berries and wildfire with snarling nips of aggression.
He can shove that delicious, earthy aroma up his ass.
As I pass the rear of the main house, my scalp crawls. I feel something in my periphery, something that shouldn’t be there.
My breath catches, and a jagged lump hardens in my throat. It takes me a second to register that this feeling along my skin is the sensation of being watched.
I halt abruptly, causing Kody to crash into me.
His hands grip my shoulders, steadying us both. “What the—?”
I’m not listening, my gaze sweeping over the sprawling, towering expanse of the estate. Balconies, alcoves, windows…
There. My eyes lock on an upstairs window. One of the guest bedrooms.
The sun outside glares against it, casting the interior in shadows. But someone is there. I can’t make out any features, just the unsettling outline of a man staring back at me, still as a ghost.
The birds’ songs fade, replaced by an eerie silence and the pounding blood in my ears.
Who is that? My mind races. Oliver? A security guard? But why would they be upstairs? And why are they just standing there, staring at me?
“Look at me.” Kody grabs my face, forcing my gaze to his. His eyes, dark and intense, search mine. “It’s my job to protect you.”
I yank free with a grunt, whipping my head back to the window.
The shadowed shape is gone.
A chill skitters through me.
Did I imagine it?
No, it was real. And it makes my anger burn hotter.
Turning on my heel, I charge toward the guest house. But I glance back a few times, unable to shake the feeling that something is watching and waiting.
By the time I reach the door, I’m so worked up that I have to punch the security code several times before it opens.
Three angry strides into the sitting room, I whirl on him.
“What were you thinking?” I throw my hands up, voice shaking. “You can’t just attack people like that!”
“I can, and I will. No one touches you.” He prowls toward me, flexing his hands.
I stumble back. “He’s my therapist, you caveman. He’s trying to help me.”
“By helping himself into your pants?”
My airway catches fire, and I see red. “How dare you!”
“Oh, I dare.” His whole body bends into me, swallowing the space between us with snarling intimacy. “Is he married?”
“Fuck you. You don’t get to—”
He shuts me up with his mouth on mine and his hand collaring my throat.
I whimper into his possessive kiss, uselessly pushing against his chest.
The instant his hot tongue unfurls against mine, he wins. He steals the oxygen from the room, crashes over my anger, and shatters my knees into glass.
For a stupidly weak moment, I forget why I’m mad. There’s only the pleasure of his lips, the warmth of his hands on my throat, and lower, below his belt, the hard, beastly stab of his need.
The man views every argument as an opportunity to fuck my brains out. He also has endless stamina and won’t stop until I’m unstrung, soaked in come, and too exhausted to argue.
“No.” I shove out of his hold and circle the couch. “I’m not rewarding you for being an absolute savage.”
“Punish me then.” Prowling after me, he unzips his jeans and frees his tree-trunk cock. “Sink those sharp little teeth into me.”
Dear God in heaven, how do I say no to that? My gums tingle. My skin sizzles, and my pussy throbs like a clenching fist.
But I have to be strong.
If I don’t stand up to him, to all of them, they’ll walk all over me with their jealous tempers and raging dicks.
“I know you’re trying to protect me, but this isn’t the way.” I scuttle backward, chased into the kitchen, while sidestepping his irresistible hands. “We need to find a better way to deal with this.”
That doesn’t deter him in the least. With his cock jutting like a goddamn weapon, he’s hard and feral and wants to fuck me with all that possessive fury.
As he corners me against the counter, every ounce of me wants to surrender to his animalistic sex drive. Letting this gorgeous beast nail me when he’s angry would be the greatest sex of my life.
Don’t give in. Be strong.
“You can’t fix this with orgasms.” I duck my head, dodging his snapping jaws.
“Not fixing it, woman. Just getting us to a place where we can.” His eyes are wild, his breathing heavy, but there’s a tinge of something else beneath the jealous rage. Something fragile and haunting. “He’s not just your therapist. I saw it in his eyes.”
The desperate edge to his voice, the fear on his face, the lifetime of trauma and pain welted across his back, it’s all there, choking him, tunneling his vision.
When he reaches for me again, I expect him to bend me over the counter. Instead, he wraps me up in a crushing hug, his muscles shaking and his grip so damn tight he squeezes the anger out of me.
“My beautiful, savage caveman.” I cup his granite jaw and bring our foreheads together. “I’m yours. You and Leo and me, we’re bonded. Mated for life. Denver couldn’t divide us. Hoss couldn’t break us. No one can take this from us.”
I have to be strong for everyone else.
“I don’t like the way he touches you.”
“I’m yours.” I kiss his angry lips.
“He intends to take you.”
“I’m yours.” I unbutton my jeans and push them down my hips.
“I can’t let him hurt you.” He yanks my arms behind my back and pins me against his chest.
“I’m yours .” I hold his gaze, letting him scour my features until he sees my truth.
Releasing me, he lowers to the floor and pulls my clothes down with him. My jeans, underwear, shoes—everything comes off. While he undresses my lower half, I remove my shirt and bra.
His ascent back up my body is an unhurried climb as he drags his scorching tongue in one long lick from feet to breasts, making me shiver and squirm.
By the time he reaches my mouth, I’m drenched between my legs, out of breath, and aching to be impaled. His cock is so hard the veins strain beneath the skin.
Taking my face in his hands, he angles my head and crushes my mouth with his. His tongue doesn’t ask. It demands, invading and claiming with brutal force.
I don’t give it to him. I make him take it. And holy fuck, he does. It’s primal. It’s raw. It’s the very nature of the untamed wilderness that lives in our veins.
He jams his fingers between my legs, driving them deep and working me into a moaning, writhing tangle of useless limbs.
“More.” I gasp into his mouth.
But he’s already doing it, replacing his hand with his massive cock. He’s so unnaturally huge and stiff that I tense, knowing what’s coming.
He lifts me, braces my rear against the counter, and drags me over the fat head of his dick.
Our eyes connect, and a strangled groan vibrates in his throat as he works me down his thick length.
The pressure, the heat, the beautiful, burning pleasure as he pushes harder, deeper, trembling, all-consuming—it’s glorious. Even with his cock stuffed only midway in, I feel it twitching, swelling, throbbing root to tip.
The sensations slam into me, sharp and loud, thundering through my body with unholy desire.
Holding me still, he retreats a few inches. Then another hard push, a choked gasp between us, and sweet blessed hell, he’s in, buried to the hilt.
“Why are you so big?” I sink my hands into his lush hair.
“Why are you so tight?” He adjusts his grip on my ass.
Then he moves, ramming that monster up between my legs like a piston, filling, shattering, shocking me like it’s my first time. Every flex of his hips drives a punching fist inside me, a stinging blow of howling, clawing ecstasy.
Our bodies press tightly together, climbing closer, clinging harder, my inner thighs rubbing against his hips. He uses the strength of his legs to dig deeper, stroking all that hardness along every nerve and pleasure center inside me.
I cry out against his wet lips. His responding groan vibrates the walls. Shakes the whole damn island. He’s pure sexual power, insatiable and tireless, maddening in his ability to go for hours, and exhausting to compete with. A competition I’ve never won.
My entire body shudders and ripples, twitching toward the peak amid the flames of his pounding, primal virility. Hard to breathe while writhing in his intoxicating heat and ferocious kisses.
The man is a beast. A beast who kisses like he’s staring down death. Who understands the value of each breath. Who earns every precious inhale and exhale. Who conquers demons and arctic blizzards with his woman at his side as we fight and fuck and reach for the future with forever in the palms of our entwined hands.
“I love you.” His dark head lowers to mine, those black bear eyes peering into my soul, asserting his declaration, and sealing it with another blistering kiss.
I breathe the words back, into his mouth, down his throat, and over the scars that lie in the deep.
There’s nothing sexier than a man who fucks with his whole heart. His heavy balls slap with his thrusts, dripping with my arousal, as his cock drives and swivels and batters into me with an urgency that shoves us both to the edge.
Bucking, kissing, panting, groaning, we set the air around us on fire. The fullness, the delicious grind, the sloppy fluids leaking everywhere, stretch me to the brink of unraveling.
Then I do.
I come undone, jolting, shouting, drowning in shimmering, body-shaking bliss. I spasm and clench, clamping down on the beast, milking him as he stares into my eyes, pumping, roaring, and spilling his hot come inside me.
Dizzying, gasping relief sinks us to the floor, tangled in a sweaty pile of wobbly arms and legs. Collapsing onto his chest, I can’t lift my eyelids, let alone my head.
When he catches his breath, he spreads me out on the floor and licks the mess from my body. From ass to cunt and along my thighs, he glides his tongue, cleaning every last drop from my sensitive flesh.
He’s a fucking animal, and I love it.
“What about you?” I gesture to his come-coated cock. “My turn.”
“You put that mouth on me, and you won’t leave this kitchen floor tonight.” He stuffs himself away.
With a gentleness that contradicts the way he fucks, he dresses me, straightens my hair, and carries me to the couch.
Settling me on his lap, he reclines in a sighing, torpid, post-coital sprawl.
Then his eyes capture mine. “Now we’re at a place where we can fix this.”
Damn this man. He fucked all the anger out of me, and now I just want to curl up and cuddle.
He knew exactly what he was doing.