Chapter 27
“I’m fine,” I hiss. “I’m truly feeling better by the second. You can put me down.”
Fox ignores me, not even bothering to grunt to indicate that he heard what I said as he carries me back through camp. Over his shoulder, I see Jett walking in the opposite direction. I assume that, now that the fight is over, he’s finally going after Connell.
Fox reaches the tent and steps inside, where he finally lowers me onto the bed. Immediately, I cast the muffling spell so no one will hear us. Fox glares daggers at me.
“What?” I ask defensively. “It’s not as if they don’t know I can do magic now.”
“A few minutes ago you were so exhausted you could barely fucking walk.”
“Like I said, I’m feeling better by the second,” I mutter, leaning down to unlace my boots. “Don’t worry about me.”
Fox growls, but I can’t interpret what he means. He tears his eyes from my face, and begins pacing back and forth across the small tent, furious energy rolling off him in waves. Maybe I’m not the one we should be worried about.
Fox is still covered in blood, but he doesn’t even seem to notice.
Most of the wounds that Viktor inflicted are closing up on their own, his accelerated healing doing a good job of patching him up before my eyes.
There’s one rather deep gash on his side that looks suspiciously like the outline of teeth, but it doesn’t appear to have hit anything vital.
Still, his eyes are wild and his breathing is shallow.
“Are you alright?” I ask, kicking my boots off and sitting cross-legged on the bed. “Maybe you should sit down.”
Fox is clearly having some kind of battle with himself. He doesn’t say anything, just gives a strange jerk of his head that’s neither a nod nor a shake.
I watch him prowl the length of the tent, muscles coiled tight beneath his skin. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, and every time he turns, his eyes find me, wild and desperate.
A low growl rumbles from his chest with each exhale. The need radiates from him in waves I can almost feel against my skin.
Acting on instinct, I stand and walk barefoot over to him, and press my face against his chest. He immediately stops moving, and his hands come up to run over my hips, then my waist. I nuzzle my face into his bare chest, brushing my lips and nose back and forth until he lets out a low growl.
“I can’t take this,” he mutters.
“You can’t take what?” I ask, rubbing my lips over his chest again, this time opening my mouth enough that the tip of my tongue brushes his skin.
He grips the back of my neck and jerks my head back so I’m forced to look at him. His eyes are completely black, the blue iris eclipsed entirely. Another growl escapes his throat. “You’re mine.”
A shiver of pleasure slithers down my spine. “I’m what?” I manage to whisper.
“Mine. I will fucking kill anyone who touches you.”
I try to answer, but all that comes out is a whimper. The way he’s growling makes my toes curl and my core throb with need.
Fox doesn’t seem entirely rational right now and I’m not sure I care as he reaches down and grips me between my legs, feeling the wetness already soaking through my leggings.
He shoves my waistband down so he can drag his fingers through my wetness.
I wriggle, kicking my leggings off entirely, my legs moving wider of their own accord.
Fox withdraws his fingers from my core and sucks them into his mouth. “This is mine.”
I whimper. “Prove it.”
He reaches down and grips my thighs, lifting me into the air. My legs instinctively wrap around him, my core sliding against the hard planes of his chest, leaving a slick trail across his skin. I jostle against him with every step, sending sparks through my core.
The mattress creaks as Fox sits on the edge, then rolls onto his back, taking me with him. I straddle his chest, my knees suddenly pressing into the bed on either side of his ribs. I reach for the hem of my top, stripping it over my head.
Fox stares up at me, his gaze heated, pupils blown so wide the blue of his irises have vanished.
His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of my thighs, leaving half-moon impressions as he drags my body forward until I’m sitting on his collarbones with my legs spread and my center right in front of his face.
I watch Fox’s eyes dart back and forth between my exposed center and the fading bite mark he put on my thigh the other day. He tilts his head, and I feel his hot breath against my skin before his tongue drags over the mark, sending shivers up my spine.
“You have such a pretty, perfect cunt,” he growls against my inner thigh. “Shame I’m about to ruin it.”
His mouth finds me, hot and insistent. I groan as he scrapes his teeth over the bite mark, then moves up, closer and closer to where I want him most. Finally, he presses an open-mouthed kiss to my clit.
My spine arches, a sound escaping my throat that I barely recognize as my own.
Lightning travels down my spine as his hands grip my ass, fingers pressing deep enough to bruise.
I gyrate above him, dragging myself back and forth over his tongue.
Looking down, I find his eyes already locked on mine, watching my every reaction.
The intensity of his gaze makes me want to perform.
I reach up and grip my breasts, feeling powerful as his eyes flash so dark he looks almost feral beneath me.
Still circling my nipple with one hand, I stretch my other arm backward, fingers grazing the waistband of his trousers. I can’t reach. My spine arches like a bow as I strain further, the muscles in my lower back protesting.
Fox’s hands slide up from my hips to my waist, his calloused palms pressing firmly against my feverish skin, keeping me from toppling over. His eyes flash with dark interest as he realizes what I’m trying to do. “Turn around.”
Pleasure races up my spine. I quickly shift, swinging my knee over his head so I’m facing the other way.
I probably don’t look very dignified, but Fox obviously doesn’t care because he grips my ass in both hands again and yanks me back against his mouth.
I let out a sound that’s half whimper and half scream.
I’m so close, and I’m not sure if I want to come or to prolong the exquisite torture.
At this angle, I can lean forward, pressing my stomach nearly flat to his, and reach his belt. I undo the buckle and shove my hands beneath his waistband. His thick cock is already straining to be released and it springs to attention in my hand. I drag my fingers lazily up and down, teasing him.
Fox growls and clamps his teeth down hard on my inner thigh. I squeal, and squeeze him harder, darting out my tongue to lick around his head. I taste salt as my tongue traces the ridge where smooth skin meets sensitive flesh, feeling him pulse against my lips.
I lazily alternate between sucking and stroking his cock, teasing him without pushing him over the edge.
My eyes flutter closed as waves of sensation wash over me.
It’s nearly impossible to focus when his tongue is doing the same to me—bringing me right to the precipice of pleasure before retreating, leaving me writhing and nearly crying with need.
I’m so far gone that I don’t immediately notice the change. But then I feel it against my palm—the base of his cock beginning to swell. My eyes snap open. Heat floods through me, making me even wetter with anticipation.
I give the heavy base of his knot a squeeze and he freezes, his tongue stilling against me as he lets out a hiss that sounds like a mixture of pain and pleasure.
I do it again, experimentally wrapping both hands around the base as I suck the tip of his weeping cock into my mouth.
“Fuck!” he gasps.
Fox’s fingers dig into my hips as he lifts me off his face, sitting up and repositioning me in his lap.
I twist around to face him, my knees finding purchase on either side of his lap.
His cock throbs between us, hot against my stomach.
His pupils have consumed his irises entirely, and a muscle in his jaw twitches as he swallows hard.
When he speaks, his voice is gravel, barely controlled. “If you don’t stop now—” His fingers tighten on my hips. “—I can’t say no to you right now.”
“What?” I blink up at him in confusion.
“If you don’t want this…if it’s too much, you have to tell me to stop.”
He doesn’t look like he wants to stop, at all, but he’s at least trying to give me the option. It’s almost comical though, because there’s nothing in the world that I want more right now than to feel him inside me. I want to know what that knot feels like, how wide it would stretch me.
My answer comes in the form of my hand sliding between our bodies to grasp him firmly, guiding the swollen head of his cock to where I’m slick and ready.
I rock my hips in a slow, deliberate tease, coating him in my arousal before allowing just the tip to breach me, watching his face as I take that first exquisite inch.
An impatient growl vibrates through his chest, then the world spins, and my back hits the mattress.
His eyes lock with mine, wild and hungry, as he positions himself between my thighs. The blunt pressure of him nudges against me, then spreads me open, my body yielding to his—stretching, burning, filling completely.
His fingers wrap around my ankle, lifting my leg until my calf rests against his shoulder.
The new angle makes me cry out as he drives deeper.
The mattress creaks beneath us as his hips snap forward, each thrust sending shockwaves through my body.
My fingernails dig into his forearms as a sound escapes me—high and breathless—each time he buries himself to the hilt.
He’s so big, especially at this angle, that I feel myself stretching nearly to my limit already and he hasn’t even pressed his knot inside me. It’s both uncomfortable and the best thing I’ve ever felt, and I whimper and writhe, nearly crying.