Chapter 14 #3
A shadow darts from my right, drawing my attention.
I can feel him here. As insane as that sounds, his dangerous edge has always spoken to me like I’m the only one that understands.
It addresses me on a deeper level, one that I feel within my bones.
He’s out here and he’s angry, but most importantly, he’s scared.
My heart continues to race, but the desperation climbing up my throat starts to ease.
While my surroundings are unfamiliar, this game isn’t.
His mind might be somewhere else, but I know exactly where his heart is—with me.
Another rustling sound comes from my left, directing my attention that way, when a hand covers my mouth.
It’s so large that as it grips my face, it reaches from one end of my jaw to the other.
A strong force pulls me back, turning me around to hit something rough and hard from behind with a surprisingly cushioned blow.
Electric blue floods my sight, sending both ice and fire down my spine.
Damien towers over me, staring down at me with pupils the size of pinpoints and irises overtaken by nothing but a raging sea of blues.
His eyes are wide and crazy, like he sees something else entirely.
He’s breathing so heavily that his chest heaves in the most enticing way while sweat drips down his forehead and neck, making his hair look even more wild.
I can’t help but stare. He’s completely unhinged, trapped in whatever scenario his mind has conjured up.
It’s breathtaking. He looks more powerful than he has since he’s been home, and even though he’s clearly distraught, I can’t help but lean into his madness.
I want to dive in it with him. My soul wants to walk through the ashes and hellfire that’s ravaged his mind and stand beside him to witness the chaos.
I reach up and rest my hands on his chest and inhale deeply through my nose to soak him in.
My heart is pounding so harshly that I’m sure he can feel it through his palm.
He slowly lowers his hand from my mouth, grazing his fingertips down my chin and over my throat to feel my racing pulse.
I swallow harshly, trying not to notice the veins popping up on the side of his neck and forearms. Now is not the time for me to be so turned on, but I can’t help but squeeze my thighs together, feeling the wetness starting to leak from my core.
“Just breathe, baby,” I whisper to him, not wanting to speak too loudly in case I scare him off.
The tips of his fingers glide up and down the column of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
My bottom lip trembles, matching the flutters with a desperation to kiss him.
I have to swallow again as he clenches his jaw, because I wish he would clench his teeth around my skin instead.
He lowers his head to nudge against me, rubbing our noses together in an affectionate but primal way. His beast is calling out for me, urging him to devour me, and I would let him in a heartbeat.
“I’m out of control…” His whispered words shake, like he’s hardly containing himself in my presence.
Those four words sound so fearful and feral all at once.
He’s trembling. Harshly. While I want to search his blue depths for a hint of the same tether and arousal I feel, I’m afraid all I’ll find there is terror.
He moves closer, trapping me against the tree with his firm torso as he inhales deeply, taking in my scent.
I squirm against him, almost tempted to straddle his thigh, but holding back purely for his sake.
“Then take it back, Damien. You are in control here.” I finally stare into his eyes that are no more than a couple of inches away.
His breaths mingle with mine, and the forest is growing warmer by the second.
One of his fingers grazes the perfect spot on my neck, making me shutter, and that’s when he snaps.
He grips my face in his hand and crashes his lips to mine, letting his primal urges take over.
It’s rough and hot, the most urgent thing I’ve felt in weeks.
His tongue instantly finds mine and attacks, demanding my submission without words.
I’ll bow without question. I’ll be his good little wife and let him command my every move.
His other hand finds my ass, pulling me even closer, and when I feel his erect dick against me, something even more ravenous within my chest claws its way out.
He wants me.
I was afraid after what he’s been through that he wouldn’t want to be touched or feel so intimate, but now, there’s not a doubt in my mind that my husband desires me—needs me.
I want to be whatever he wishes me to be right now.
He could use me however he wanted, and I would thank him for it.
I pull back and rest my forehead against his cupping his face in my hands.
“Tell me what you want, Damien. Use your words,” I demand breathlessly, hoping to use his own tactic against him.
His hand moves leisurely to the back of my head, then tightens into a fist in my hair, yanking my head back to stare up at him.
Lightning explodes behind his already-savage eyes, and a growl leaves his snarled lip, demanding to reclaim my soul.
“I don’t want words. I want my wife on her fucking knees,” he commands, and I drop without hesitation.
My mouth is already salivating, starving for my husband’s cock.
Being pregnant has made me crave some weird shit, ranging from tastes, feelings, and smells, but I haven’t wanted anything as much as I want his cum in this moment.
My entire body is on fire, my skin in flames, ready to tear open his jeans and swallow him whole.
But I wait, staring up at him and practically gnawing at the bars for a command.
When he speaks, his regal tone finally returns—the one only meant for my God. “Take off my belt, Ashia.”
My hands dart out before I even think of it.
I’m clawing at the leather, ready to rip to it shreds if necessary.
Thankfully, it comes undone easily enough, and by the time I pull his jeans apart, he’s already fisting his erection in his hand.
He takes himself out and strokes, choking his own dick until his thumb runs over the head.
“Please…” I look up at him and beg, nearly foaming at the mouth. When he rubs the head of his cock against my lips, I can’t help but dart my tongue out to taste. I run the end around his tip, staring up at him and starting to sweat from the heat building between us.
“Fuck, do that again,” he instructs breathlessly, so I do it even slower this time.
His eyes flutter, almost roll, when a seductive grin curls at the corner of my lips.
A bead of precum dribbles onto my tongue, sending a building hum throughout my body as I wrap my lips around him—taking only the head of his cock in.
A moan, sounding more like a growl, leaves his lips just before he pushes further into my mouth.
I cup my tongue around him, just as he likes, and my core clenches around nothing, making me whimper.
I moan around him, savoring the salty taste, and he twitches inside my mouth, egging me on.
This feels amazing. He’s feeling good. I’m making him feel this way, even when his mind is trying to betray him once again.
My chest is beautifully heavy, and my lower stomach is churning with desire, yearning, desperate to hear him speak like that again.
His grip tightens in my hair, and when he starts to move my head to the pace he wants, I grasp his hip to steady myself.
I move my tongue to glide against the underside of him, and my body heats with the contact, clit pulsing and heart racing.
He reaches out to the tree behind me to steady himself, clearly getting into the sensation.
He moves my head and thrusts faster as we both lose ourselves.
I work my mouth and tongue, swallowing around him and gasping for air every chance I get.
My eyes sting with tears, and every time he hits the back of my throat, my clit throbs again.
I roll my hips, hoping to get some type of stimulation to my thumping pussy.
I’d love nothing more than to feel his cock slam inside of me, but right now isn’t about me.
The thought of having to spend the rest of the day with an aching core makes me cry a little harder, though.
I’m fucking desperate. I want my husband.
His skin should be grazing against mine, his sweat should be racing down my body, and his cock should be filling me so thoroughly that I’ll never feel empty again.
A strangled cry escapes my throat, unable to fend off my imagination.
I want his hands on me. I want to feel his strong grip around my thighs or my throat as I gasp for air, begging him to fuck me harder.
Like he can read my thoughts, he yanks my hair in a harsh pull, craning my neck backward so I stare directly up at him when he forces his cock deeper down my throat. He holds himself there, asserting his dominance as I happily choke around him.
“Touch yourself, little wolf. Make yourself come while I fuck your mouth.”
Oh, God, I’m going to come.
He’s being direct and filthy, a part of himself that he was afraid was lost. That divine authority is back, fighting through the fog like an untamed warrior and taking me for a prize.
His prize. He pulls back from my mouth, allowing me the opportunity to slip my hand into my leggings.
My nails scape against my skin, raising bumps over every inch of my form as I frantically claim my own needs.
Like he knows the exact moment my fingertip brushes my clit, he thrusts in again, forcing a moan to stimulate his dick.