Chapter 8 – Cerberus #2
He chuckles, and the sound is low and masculine. “Yes. You have no idea what I’m imagining doing to you right now.”
So, he does want me. This I understand.
Unable to help myself, I slide my hands slowly down his chest. When I reach his belt, I hesitate. He’s breathing hard, watching my every move.
“I’m not very good at knowing what men want.”
“I think you know exactly what we want, you just want to torture the hell out of us.”
His words are a challenge, and damn it my hound and I love a challenge.
My hands slide lower, and a groan slips passed his lips as I reach the delicious bulge in his pants. Oh god, this man is packing something sinfully amazing.
I know what will happen next. He’ll tug down his pants, and mine, and plunge in and out of me until he comes. If I’m lucky, I’ll come too. And for one shining moment, I’ll be touching someone. Being touched by someone. Feeling the closest thing I’ll ever come to being loved.
It all comes into my mind like the reel of a movie, so when his hands lift to caress my face, I’m startled. What’s he doing?
A second later, his lips descend on mine.
I’m overwhelmed. His lips… they’re so soft, so perfect. They press against mine, not with hesitation, but with an exploratory air that makes me think he’s waiting for my reaction.
Could he really be?
When he pulls back, breathing hard, his voice comes as soft as a whisper. “Did you like that?”
I nod, unable to speak.
“Do you want me to kiss you again?”
I don’t hesitate, I nod again.
This time when he kisses me, I’m ready for it.
My lips don’t just stay still waiting to see what he’ll do next.
They kiss him back, following his lead. I’m overwhelmed by how his touch seems to awaken my body.
My skin feels hot. The space between my thighs has grown wet and tight, aching for this man in a way I never have for anyone before him.
I didn’t expect to experience my first kiss tonight, but somehow, I’m glad it’s happening. And I’m glad it’s with this man. Someone I likely won’t see again after tonight. A stranger, passing through a town, wanting to touch a woman he barely knows in the darkness.
What happens here feels like a secret. Like a dream I’m having that I know will fade in the sunlight. But I don’t care enough not to dive into every second of it.
When my lips part, his tongue moves inside my mouth, flicking against my tongue. I gasp and tense as need rolls through me. This man’s kiss… it’s out of this world. Soon my tongue begins to tangle with his, and I’m satisfied to feel him hardening and swelling even more beneath my touch.
This is it then, the moment when he plunges inside of me. He’ll rip his cock free, tear off my pants, and we’ll come together. And for once, I feel not just ready for the touch of another person, but for his touch.
But he doesn’t. Still.
I’m perplexed as he murmurs words I don’t understand, sliding his lips from mine down my neck.
He sucks the soft skin of my throat, shocking me.
I’ve always seen my throat as a weakness.
Something never to expose to my enemies.
And yet, for the first time in my life, that softness has a purpose. To be touched and kissed by this man.
He swears and slips one sleeve of my tank top down onto my arm. Then, just as slowly, with a touch that borders on worshiping, he slips off the other side.
I hold my breath as one of his fingertips brush the tops of my breasts.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.
No, I’m not. I know that. I’m a warrior. Not a woman. I’m a tool to be used and thrown away. I’m a scarred-up pile of flesh.
So why do I feel like I’m something different? Like I’m something more? I can’t decide if this man’s touch is lying to me, or if every person who’s ever touched me with hard, cruel hands made me forget that I could be this… this person. A woman. Someone to be worshipped.
I feel a tear slip down my cheek. I’m glad he can’t see me. He wouldn’t understand why his gentle touch is breaking me more than any blow, nor do I want him to understand.
He tugs my shirt down further, and then his fingertips continue to explore my skin, moving past my bra, brushing the skin of my stomach. I almost tell him to stop, to simply mount me and fuck me like the others, but the words won’t leave my lips.
Leaning forward, his lips brush the tops of my breasts, and then he pulls down my bra.
My breasts come free, exposed to the chill of the air.
But the moment the uncomfortable sensation washes over me, his mouth closes over one of my nipples.
I move backwards until my back hits the wall.
His other hand begins to roll my nipple between his thumb and finger, causing my pleasure to build.
I’m overwhelmed. His mouth is so hot, sucking and licking in a way that sends fire racing straight to my core.
I don’t care if this man has touched a thousand women like this.
If it taught him to bring me this pleasure.
If it made it so his touch could lie to me, could say that I’m something worth feeling this pleasure.
Even if I’m overwhelmed.
I think of the past men who fucked me. It was hard and rough. The air was filled with the sounds of their grunting. The smell of their sweat hung in the air, and I clung to them. Clung to the touch of another person.
So what was that if this is what it feels like to have sex?
I feel… torn. Pleasure rolls through me in a wave that has my skin awakening. But my thoughts? They keep spinning. Shouting above my pleasure that this man wouldn’t be touching me if he knew what I am. That I’m not something to be touched and loved gently.
It’s all a lie.
My phone buzzes. The man doesn’t care. He moves to lavish my other breast with his hot, skilled tongue.
You’re lying to him.
But his touch… it’s everything. The best thing I’ve ever felt.
Meant for someone else. Someone who deserves it.
My heart’s racing. What do I do? Should I stop him? Or do I let him take me to the place I know we’re headed? A place I’ll remember forever. A place that will change me.
And then what will you do when you lose his touch? You’ll be alone again with nothing but memories.
My phone buzzes again, and instinctively I push the man away. He allows it, breathing hard, so close. Watching me in the darkness. I pull up my bra and take my phone out of my back pocket.
If you want to get out of there, this is your chance. Go out the back.
“What is it?” he asks, his hands reaching for me.
I slide out of his grasp, shove the phone back in my pocket, and yank my tank top back into place.
“What’s going on?” This time he sounds worried.
I dart around him, undo the door, and step out. Over my shoulder, I say, “Time to go.”
Moving around the boxes, I hear him struggling behind me. Not slowing, I unlock the next door, dart out into the hallway, then head for the door outside.
I don’t slow. I can’t slow. If I do, he might catch up to me. He’ll have questions. Why I stopped. Or maybe he’ll want to start again.
And I was wrong before. I wasn’t ready for a gentle touch and whatever the hell that man wanted to give me. I expected to be fucked hard. I didn’t want to ruin myself by feeling something I don’t deserve and would never feel again.
Outside, I dart away from the flashing lights of a police car, down an alley, and don’t stop until I weave through a few streets, reach the woods, and disappear inside of them.
Then, and only then, I pause and look back.
Not long after, Draven emerges down one road.
He’s looking all around himself, and I can sense his tension even from where I stand.
My heart beats so hard, that for a minute, I’m sure he’ll hear it.
But then, he turns down the sidewalk and heads away from my hiding place.
I ignore the unexpected emotion that feels like disappointment and turn back to the woods.
My hound is pacing inside of me. I wish she was angry.
But instead, I think she might be broken hearted.
I’m stripping off my clothes, already preparing to shift, before I can process what I’m doing or why. But then, I realize that I’m running away from my feelings. When my hound takes over it’ll be easier, easier to forget this night, and the man who almost changed everything for me.
At least, I tell myself as my bones start cracking and shifting, I’ll never see him again.
Inside of me, my hound gives a lonely howl.