Chapter 23
Sloane
Beck’s lips crushed mine.
Not with any tentative pressing together of our mouths or even for a momentary exploration, but hard and rough, a claiming instead of tasting.
His tongue had become a lethal weapon, dominating mine while he took his time.
His kisses had been passionate before, but wowza, I was already lightheaded from the man consuming my mouth.
Let alone the way his cock was throbbing between my legs. He had a way of making me so hot and wet that I had no doubt the front of his jeans would have a horrific stain on the front. I had a feeling he wasn’t about to care.
Mate.
He’d asked me about the word as if mating was no big deal. Perhaps for various species of animals, it wasn’t. In scientific terms and with regard to animals, it was a pairing of organisms of the opposite sex for the purpose of creating offspring.
In romance books, it was an undeniable, unbridled urge occurring between two beings, a need so intense that the two subjects couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Whether or not tiny reproductions of themselves occurred was secondary to carnal passion.
With the human species, there were several variations of less traditional mating that were all about cultural dynamics and partner compatibility.
However, with shifters, I sensed a strange combination of all of the above, including keeping the shifter race going. But unlike humans of different races or religions, social values and upbringing, I doubted there was a chance of humans and shifters being able to produce a hybrid child.
Didn’t that sound romantic as hell? Not.
Maybe I was just overthinking what Beck was getting at. In truth, I was losing my ability to think, let alone focus on anything but the dark cravings that continually swept through me. All through the blissful moment, I wiggled to try to free my hands. He was too strong, too powerful.
I used what I had as my own manner of power, wrapping my legs around him and squeezing my knees against his thighs. We were in a suffocating dance that I hoped would never end. As far as being out in the open? Why not allow every nosy neighbor to witness what real and raw passion looked like?
He eased onto one arm, releasing his hold on mine, but he had no intention of letting me go anytime soon. With his fingers wrapping around my throat, he rubbed his thumb back and forth across my bottom lip, even pulling it down.
A mistake was made when he popped his thick digit into my mouth intending for me to suck it. I bit down instead. His eyes opened wide, his laugh more boisterous than before. But there was no mistaking the look of need in his eyes.
He was about to devour me.
I raked my hand down his shirt, jerking on the hem until I was able to slide my hand underneath. The buildup of explosive heat was already in full swing, the touch close to paralyzing every muscle.
His chest rose and fell from shallow breaths as his eyelids partially closed, creating a bad boy image making me long for my camera. Imagine that sexy face on a poster.
The deep cravings were already getting the better of us.
He rose onto his knees, taking me with him.
Without allowing me to breathe, he yanked the tee shirt over my head, tossing it aside.
I did the same with his, twirling the soft material in my hands over my head before tossing with gusto.
When the garment slapped against a tree, we both laughed, but his jovial tone didn’t last long.
With a growl that would rival any wolf in the wild, he cupped my breasts.
I hadn’t bothered putting on a bra. Maybe a little wishful thinking I might arouse the beast in the man. Apparently, given his eyes were dilated, I’d done a very good job. Bonus points for the way he was already sucking my nipples.
They were rock hard and aching, much like the deep core throb in my pussy. While he enjoyed himself moving from one breast to the other, I rubbed both hands down his chest, crawling my fingers to the button and zipper on his jeans.
“Impatient, little girl?” he gritted out with an even deeper guttural sound that had me shuddering.
“Maybe. To counter your big, bad wolf.” I lifted my gaze when he said nothing.
There was a crazy moment of seeing him for what he really was.
A wolf. And for whatever reason, instead of being anxious or even concerned what that might mean or that I was certifiable in some perfect way, I could see myself in his big baby blues.
To the point of realizing losing myself in the man and his sidekick the wolf wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
“You are so freaking beautiful, Sloane. All kidding aside, you drive me crazy, but I’ve never experienced as much joy wrapped in sarcasm in my life.”
“That’s very… romantic.”
Every other time, our passion had been playful, if not overheated. This time everything was different.
The scents in the air.
The way the breeze felt against my skin. The look of him as he swept his soulful eyes down to my knees.
Even the taste of his lips had been richer. Tangy yet sweet. Fulfilling yet leaving me hungering for more. I was pushed into a moment of craziness where nothing else mattered but being here with him.
Yet I pushed him away, struggling to stand.
I was half laughing, half breathing hard and I couldn’t seem to fill my lungs.
He rose to his feet, no clumsiness involved.
When he towered over me, his upper lip curled first from anger in seeing the scratches on my arm.
He rubbed the rough pads of his fingers down every red line, every indentation created by branches.
The soothing effect was instantaneous, tickling sensations trailing behind his fingers.
My breath was caught as I watched him, his concentration and the care he was taking mesmerizing.
His nostrils flared as he cocked his head when studying the gash on my leg. In a strange yet almost romantic move, he shoved four fingers into his mouth, slickening the tips before popping his hand free. I had no idea what he was going to do, his actions were so methodical.
And his eyes never left mine. What was he worried about? That I suddenly would no longer crave his touch or the way he made me feel?
In fact, I was already in a state of euphoria.
With a gentle touch, he placed his wet fingers on the gash. There was no pressure, just a tender stroke or two before he lowered his gaze to the boots I’d snagged from his room.
“You look good in my shoes. But you’re still a thief.”
His voice was huskier than normal, dripping with a guttural sound keeping goosebumps popping across my skin.
When he removed his hand from my leg, I was floored that I felt no pain. No ache. No itchy sensations.
“What did you do?”
His chuckle was dark. “Worked my magic.”
When he lifted his head, our eyes locking, barely five seconds later and it was as if a bomb went off between us. We were suddenly frantic, desperate to rip off our clothes.
I didn’t bother unlacing his boots, yanking them off and pitching them behind me. I had the advantage of only wearing shorts, pulling my thong off at the same time. While he was still shucking his jeans, the ones that had fit his butt like a tight glove, I was free of any hindrance.
What struck me to run along the river’s edge and away from him I’d never know, but that’s what I did. Laughing the entire time. At first, I didn’t even bother looking behind me, although I was certain he was following me.
When I heard a deep rumble, I zigged and zagged through the trees.
In bare feet.
Yet I felt free. Maybe that was the last of the painkillers I’d been given still in my system. If that was the case, I didn’t mind floating.
Especially since the aches didn’t hinder me at all. In fact, I couldn’t feel a single scrape or sting. What were the odds? Maybe his hands really were magical.
I even managed to jump over a log, but in hindsight knew that hadn’t been a good idea. He gained several yards, almost managing to grab me. I spun around a tree, narrowly avoiding his hand as he tried to snatch me.
With more easy laughter than I’d experienced in a long time, I ran as fast as I could back to where we’d started. But as luck would have it, he didn’t just tackle me like before. Beck scooped me up into his arms, swinging me over his head as if I weighed nothing and tossing me over his shoulder.
“Put me down.” I pummeled on his back for maximum effect.
“Oh, I plan to. Just hold your pretty yet cocky horses.” I had no idea what he was planning, but when he plopped his naked ass down on a huge fallen tree, he yanked me over his lap.
That told me everything I needed to know.
“You’re a handful.” We need to break you of bad habits.”
“Bad habits?”
“Yep. Stealing. Lying. Punching poor reporters. Shame I didn’t wear my belt. Oh, look. This is perfect.”
I jerked my head up, forgetting to thrash in his arms to find out what he was holding. A twig? Oh, hell, no. He was going to use the wood as a switch. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“You should know better than to dare a wolf.” He didn’t waste any time, twirling the switch a couple of times in his hand like a baton before bringing it down on my poor, defenseless backside.
Let me tell you, it hurt too.
So much so I moaned in displeasure. Still fighting him. Still planning on escaping.
Only he wasn’t interested in letting me go. The sound of the switch swooshing through the air was almost melodic. The aftermath of the bark hitting my bottom? Not so much. I squirmed with every strike, yet the sound of my moaning was more out of pleasure than pain.
Still, the spanking was painful, enough so that with my wiggling, I started humping his groin.
His cock responded by throbbing against my stomach, the pressure point for both of us closing in rapidly.
I could tell by the denseness in the air, the crackle of electricity and the intense scent of our desire.