Chapter 6
Had she just said that out loud? Tonya felt her entire body blush even as she held her grip on Alan’s erection.
At least she could blame her color on the heat from the hot tub.
But what the hell was she doing confessing her deepest desire to an unstable man?
She wanted children one thousand percent.
But not fathered by a man who was completely, insanely sexy.
..er, she meant nuts. Completely nuts. And yet the way he looked at her made her nipples tighten despite the heat.
They stared at each other, and she wondered who would give in first. Alan would, she decided. Alan always gave in to her. So she waited, and a moment later, she felt his hand ease on her jaw. Just like—
He slit open her top, a clean cut between her breasts. She didn’t even see his hand move or the second when his fingers became claws. But one second, he was holding her jaw nearly immobile. The next, her breasts bobbed free in the water.
She gasped, startled not by his movement but by the fact that it was Alan who did it. He was so angry that she doubted he had any control of his actions. And then he took hold of her breasts; lifted both of them and stroked them in precise lines as if he’d been planning it for years.
It was so odd the way the man touched her.
Both hands surrounded her flesh, moving with undeniable intention.
He was going for her nipples, his searing gaze still holding hers.
She hadn’t expected how large his hands were.
That she’d love feeling her ample breasts completely surrounded by the length of his fingers.
Against her will, her belly went liquid and her knees slipped open.
Oh hell, the way he looked at her—like a man on fire—ignited every lustful cell in her body.
And still his grip narrowed. No rush. And no gentleness, either. He tightened in a steady procession until he squeezed her nipples. Tug. Hard. Enough to make her gasp. And then he twisted. Not enough to hurt, but it shot off rockets of reaction throughout her body.
And then he started it again. A wide hold that steadily tightened to her nipples.
And while he worked her breasts, his lips were curled into a snarl.
It was an ugly look on him, and yet it didn’t frighten her.
This was Alan. Angry and brutal, certainly, but underneath, he still seemed like the same Alan who would never hurt her.
And while his fingers twisted her nipples, she grinned at the thrill of what he was doing.
He took her to the edge of pain—or maybe a little beyond—but made her hungry for more.
Probably because she was a shifter. She could take a lot.
And this dangerous edge to the love play was making her want him on every level.
“Tit for tat,” she said, her voice hoarse as she squeezed him hard.
He was large and hot beneath her hand. His thin boxers weren’t even a real swimsuit and certainly not enough to stop her from feeling his entire length.
Wow, he was thick. Not long, necessarily, but wide enough that he would stretch her to the limit and she would love every second of it.
She reached forward with her other hand.
He let her shove down his shorts, and then he leaned forward.
The penis reared up through the water. Round, dark red, and weeping.
She looked at it and was surprised by the raw hunger she felt.
When had she become this lustful at the sight of a man’s dick? Never before.
“You want this?” His voice mocked her.
Her gaze shot up to his. “Yes,” she answered honestly. “You sticking around, Alan? You going to be a father to your children?” She just had to get him to say yes. If he said it, then he would be true to his word and she could get him back to Gladwin where everything could be sorted out.
He leaned into her neck, and she tilted her head sideways as he inhaled her skin. Just how sensitive was his nose? Could he tell she wasn’t fertile? Other shifters would, but that was a matter of experience, not sensitivity.
Pain arced, sharp and startling, at her neck, and she jolted. “Did you just bite me?”
He pulled back and grinned at her. Then he licked his lips, clearly trying to be lewd.
Except it backfired on them both. While her mind was still reeling, her body tingled from head to toe, a wave of desire radiating out from the tender spot on her neck.
And while she was still reeling from the sensation, he squeezed her nipples hard.
Her belly rippled, the first hard prelude to orgasm. Then she felt her knees widen as he pushed between her thighs. She squeezed back, and he growled, jerking his hips and his dick forward between her hands.
God, that was hot. She felt the power in his thrust as the length of him punched between her palms. The movement also shoved her thighs farther apart.
She felt the heat of the water invade her most sensitive places.
Holy shit, she was succumbing fast. Lust beat through her body so hard it felt like an assault, but she liked it.
Damn it, she liked every part of this angry encounter.
She tried to regain some control, so she squeezed him as hard as she could.
But her hands were slippery in the water, the position awkward.
All it took was a slight shove from his elbows and she lost her grip.
Another shove between her thighs, and she was unmoored.
No handhold on him and unable to stabilize her heels on the bottom of the hot tub.
Her body lifted higher, half floating, half pinned against the wall with her legs spread.
Then he lifted his hand, raising it so that it was poised before her eyes. Human hand, long fingers, blunt tip. It was Alan’s hand and she’d always liked how he kept his nails neat and clean. Except as she watched, hair sprouted along his forearm and the nails became razor-sharp claws.
“Alan—”
“He’s gone. You got the monster now.”
She shook her head, but he didn’t give her a chance to speak. His hand plunged under the water, and she felt the sharp bite of pain as he sliced open the bikini bottom. One long cut across the top of her mound and the fabric floated open.
Then he pushed his fist down between her thighs, rubbing his arm across every hot, swollen part of her.
“Feel the hair?” he asked. “That’s not Alan.”
She did, and her eyes were nearly rolling back in her head from the pleasure of it.
“Feel my claws?” he asked as he spread his fingers wide.
She felt sharp pinpricks against her most intimate folds. The bite of it had her toes curling in pleasure.
“That’s not Alan,” he said.
Yes, it was.
Then suddenly, he was inside her. His fingers shoved deep into her center. She bucked at the intrusion, and her belly spasmed again, tightening around him. She feared she’d feel the cut of his claws, but there was nothing like that. No pain. Just him, thick and so very present inside her.
“You like being fucked by a monster?” he taunted.
Apparently so.
“You like it rough?” he asked as he shoved his thumb upward. It was a human hand now, the thick pad of his thumb rolling hard over her clit.
She shuddered, and her head dropped back.
She’d meant to fight this. She’d meant to challenge him with her own strength, but this monster-that-was-still-Alan owned her in a way she’d never thought possible.
When she’d expected him to back down, he’d cut off her clothes and shoved himself between her thighs.
When she’d planned to push him away, her limbs had gone weak and willing.
And now he was leaning down and snarling into her ear.
“Scream for me, Tonya. Let Marty know what I’m doing to you.”
She’d thought he’d go for her breasts. With her size, every man went straight there. But Alan was between her thighs. His thumb circled hard over her clit, and his speed was merciless—a steady pace neither slow nor fast. Just relentless.
She had to fight back. She had to gather herself enough to show him that he didn’t frighten her. “I’m not coming until you do,” she gasped, praying she could make it true.
“Bullshit.” Nothing else. Just those two words and a wicked grin as he stroked her harder and harder.
She tried to stop it. She gripped his arms, she struggled against the rising pleasure, and she bit the inside of her mouth rather than scream. But she was untethered in the water, her only touchstone the steady thrust of his fingers and the roll against her clit.
Harder.
Stronger.
Against her will, she wrapped her legs around him. It was a way to get purchase, but all it did was shove his fingers deeper inside her.
“Alan, please,” she said, wondering what she was asking. More? Less? Now?
It didn’t matter. Her body shattered. She didn’t cry out, thank God.
She had that much control, but it was a small thing against the tidal wave of delight that swamped her senses.
And he kept it up, damn him. While she arched against him, while she bit her lip trying to keep calm in the middle of a storm of sensation, he slammed her against the wall and drove his hard thickness along her body.
He slid across her clit, sending waves of sensation through her that ratcheted up her orgasm.
He rolled back and forth against her while she gripped emptiness with each internal explosion.
She wanted him to readjust. She wanted him to penetrate her until she couldn’t breathe for the size of him.
But she hadn’t the control to force him.
All she could do was hold on as he undulated against her.
It went on forever. Her body detonated a thousand times. And then she felt him explode. His back tightened, his face contorted into a grimace of pain, and he cried out. One single long roar. Guttural. Animal. And the animal in her responded to it, knowing it for what it was.
Possession.