Chapter 40 #2
I groan again, but all the risks race through my brain. I pull back. “Not like this.”
I let go, ready to get the fuck out of here, thinking I should shift and run this off, but she’s launching herself at me, grabbing my face with both hands.
I grunt, squeezing my eyes shut, but soft lips touch mine for the briefest second, giving me a tease of her taste, the scent of sex, warm and sweet apples, and a little whimper from my mate.
“Bailey,” I whisper, grabbing a handful of her damp hair while my other hand glides up her back.
She fucking licks my bottom lip. My world begins to twirl around me as I fall backwards, balancing on my elbows and she scoots higher on my lap, straddling me, pushing her beautiful tits with those pebbled nipples against my chest while my tongue slides into her pouty mouth.
She tastes so absolutely incredible, it’s unreal. Fuck apple pie… Bailey makes apple pie taste like garbage.
She’s so soft, so warm, and it’s a perfect fit.
Finally. Fucking finally.
She whimpers and grinds her crotch down on my erection and whips her hair back.
And panic spikes in my bloodstream.
I need to make this stop.
I grab her jaw and look into her eyes. “Bailey.”
“Jase…” she moans, aroused, moon-drunk.
“It’s the moon, Bay.”
“I don’t care. I want–”
I cover her mouth with my hand so she can’t say it.
“You don’t. I want you to set the pace, not the moon.”
She’s talking behind my hand, so I pull it back.
“Pretty sure I’m ready,” she says.
Her eyes are glassy, her pupils are huge, and she’s panting.
When I was a kid, I was a handful. My grandmother used to tell my parents we should move to a round house so the devil couldn’t keep cornering me. It feels like I’m being backed into a corner now and this could, for sure, be used against me.
Are the pills kicking in? I’m still hard. Too fucking hard. But I’m hanging onto my self-control instead of giving in to what would undoubtedly be the best thing to ever happen to me.
But it could backfire.
“Not like this.”
“Jason,” she whines and rocks against me.
She keeps rocking; she’s dry-fucking me. She’s panting, clinging to me. And my cock is fucking weeping for her.
But fuck… if I do what I want to do, it could be held against me. Because it was the moon that made her come here tonight. Because she forgot to wear the scent mask they gave her. Because I’d be using the lunar event to my advantage and she could have strong opinions about it tomorrow.
Plus, what if I’m too rough because I want her so fucking bad and held off too long? What if when the levee breaks, I break her? Though if that could happen tonight, it could also happen a week from now.
Shit.
Yeah, the pills must be working because I’m not ripping my clothes off. I’m not ripping hers off. I’m not going into the rut. I’m not kissing, sucking, and fucking her. I’m just hanging onto her while she rocks against my cock.
And it’s hot as sin, the way she’s hanging onto my shoulders, digging her nails into my skin, and breathing against my throat while she rocks back and forth over my erection, riding me like her life depends on it.
She’s so wet, so ripe, like the juiciest most delicious fruit. Her scent has entirely invaded my senses. I feel the heat of her pussy through my jeans. The sounds she’s making… fuck, it’s sexy.
“Jason, please… please take me. Please. Just… I need you.”
That does it. I’m … coming. I’m coming in my jeans. My vision blurs as I feel how her body quakes and she grips me harder, nails breaking my skin while she arches her back, presenting her throat for me as she unfurls.
“Jason,” she whimpers, “Fuck, Jase… Oh! Ah! Ah! Fuck!”
She goes limp like a ragdoll in my arms. She’s still panting, trying to catch her breath.
I grip her tighter, smelling her hair, her pussy, her overall essence, feeling bliss gliding through my veins like warm water. My nose slides up and down her neck from behind her ear to her collarbone. But my canines are retracted. The pills saved her from me. They saved me from risking it all.
On shaky legs, I rise with her and put us on the couch. She’s sniffling. No, worse. She’s full-on crying, trying to hide her face in my shirt.
“Bailey?”
She shudders.
“Hey...” I whisper.
She pulls her glasses off and drops them beside us, wiping her eyes with both hands.
“Jase… I…” She starts crying harder, burying her face in my throat again.
So I hold her tight. I soak in how fucking good it feels to finally, finally have her in my arms. Loose. Melted into me. And best of all, my jeans soaked with the both of us.
She sniffles and nuzzles into my neck, saying my name against her ink.
“Jason?”
“Yeah?”
“I… I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“For that…”
“No–”
“Also… because I’ve been such a bitch. I’ve been so fucked up and I… I’m trying to get past it all. It still hurts, though, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
I reply. “You don’t have to fix anything. I’m the one who broke it, so I’ll fix it.”
“I… I want um…” she whispers.
I wait.
“Um…”
She runs her hand up my chest and, still hiding her face in my neck, starts to squirm.
Shit.
I have to deny her. Fuck, this is hard.
“I can’t claim you tonight, beautiful,” I say gently.
Her body goes rigid.
“Can’t?”
“Won’t.”
She’s about to pull away, so I grip her tight.
“I don’t want this tonight. I want this when you choose it.”
“Those pills? Are they-”
“Barely working, but yeah they’re working.”
“So, we could…”
“I want you to be the one to decide, not the moon.”
She whimpers and squirms against me.
“Shh, I know,” I try to soothe, rubbing her back.
She’s fidgeting. Now she’s rotating her hips in little circles again.
“What does it feel like?” I ask. “What’s the moon doing to you?”
“It’s like if I don’t… if you don’t… I’ll stop breathing.”
“Use me. Like you just did.”
“What if I want you to… participate?”
“Do what you did before. Did it help?”
“Yeah… but only for a minute.”
“Try again,” I say.
She whimpers, looking at me, squinting without her glasses. “But…”
“I’m not claiming you tonight. I’m not having it used against me when this lunar event is over.”
“I won’t do that.”
“You say that now because you’re in a fake heat, Bailey. I can’t trust what you’re saying.”
“Fake?”
“You can’t go into a real heat if you’re not already claimed. It’s just the moon…”
“I’m okay if we blame the moon…”
“You’re saying that now, Bay, but I’m not risking it.”
“Jason,” she whines.
I smile. Fuck, this feels good.
I think she misreads my smile because her forehead crinkles.
She tries to hold still but she can’t. She’s rocking again. And whimpering. She’s about ready to beg me to fuck her. But I know she’s just moon drunk. She’s not thinking clearly.
She gives me a look of hurt before burying her face in my neck again.
“Of course I want to claim you. I’m dying to fucking claim you, but I’m not doing it tonight. Go ahead, rub against me. Get yourself there again.”
She digs her nails into my scalp, holding my hair as she rocks some more against my cock.
“You’re frustrating me,” she complains.
I groan with how good it feels.
And my groan only makes her wetter.
“I know.”
As soon as I know she’s of sound mind asking for this, it’ll be game on.
She rocks some more, still hiding her face, whimpering either in frustration or sensation, I’m not sure at this point.
She mutters a string of cusses and now she’s coming again, shaking as she continues rocking against me, until she goes completely limp, sprawled on me.
“That was so m-mean, Jason,” she rasps.
Her heart pounds against both our chests as she catches her breath, then whimpers again.
“Was trying to be the opposite of mean,” I say.
She doesn’t answer.
I peer down at her face. And she’s asleep. On top of me.
I finger comb some of her still damp, fragrant hair away from her face so I can look at her while she sleeps with her head on my shoulder.
Those pills are miracle workers. Why wasn’t I taking them days ago when they were offered? Thank fuck she’s been wearing a scent muting substance, because I was barely hanging in there as it was. And I could’ve fucked up. I could’ve fucked up and made things worse.
These pills aren’t making my dick soft; they aren’t stopping me from wanting her, but they are helping me keep a clearer head.
It’s the only explanation for me not losing it and exploding into rutting mode.
Because Bailey Blackwood, dry-humping me on top of the cum I’ve already spilled in my jeans and whimpering into my neck in a way that I know she’s wordlessly pleading for me to fuck her?
It’s the hottest sexual experience I’ve ever had.