Chapter 12 Shannen
Shannen
Phoenix is practically begging for praise, validation, and reassurance, and suddenly, it all makes so much sense. Needing to be loved, needing someone to look at him like he’s everything—that’s what he’s always been chasing.
That’s how I lost him the first time.
Useless.
Unworthy.
Freak.
Mistake.
Unlovable.
Those were some of the words his father forced down his throat when he was just a boy, each one poisoning his mind and leaving him with a space where self-worth and love should’ve lived.
I wasn’t mature enough to see it at the time because I was too consumed by my own pain to recognize his, but I see it now.
Phoenix wants someone to look at him and tell him he’s worth something, not because he’s perfect but simply because he’s him.
He craves that unwavering, unconditional love as if every cruel word from his past could be erased if someone just told him he was enough.
Back then, all the care and respect I had for him didn’t even scratch the surface of the damage his father had done.
Now he’s staring up at me, his eyes wild, waiting to see what I’ll do next.
I don’t even know what line I’m testing or how far I’m willing to push him, but what I do know is that, despite all his alpha bullshit, Phoenix needs a place to break, and right now I want to be that safe space for him.
“You wanna be good for me?” I ask, feeding into the need I can see burning behind his eyes. He nods immediately, his pupils blown so wide there’s barely any gray left. “Then strip my panties off and say out loud how wet you’ve made me.”
I’m fucked.
Completely gone.
I’ve let his madness bleed into me.
His eyes don’t leave mine, not for a second, even as his hands move up the outside of my thighs.
When he reaches my underwear, his fingers hook around the sides, and for a moment, he just grips—a full, possessive hold on my hips that makes my breath stutter.
Then he tugs, dragging the fabric down. His knuckles brush over my skin, past my knees, lower, until they pool at my ankles.
“Tell me.”
“You’re soaked.”
“For who, Phoenix?”
“Me,” he whispers.
Confusion flickers in his silver stare, caught between wanting to reclaim control and surrendering to something that doesn’t quite make sense to him yet, but I know he feels it.
I stand, hike my skirt up, and bunch it around my waist. All his focus immediately drops to what’s in front of him. Need and obsession coil in his eyes, and he looks like a wolf scenting blood.
“Now look at me,” I order, dragging his gaze back to mine. “Show me just how good you can be for me.”
His chest rises hard and falls even harder, and for a moment, it feels like he’s holding me in place with nothing but that stare—just those beautiful steel eyes burning straight through me.
Pressing his face into me, he buries himself between my thighs, and when his mouth finally touches me, it isn’t a kiss or a lick, just the faintest ghost of his lips brushing against me.
“Can I eat your pussy until you come?” he asks, waiting for my permission.
I manage a breathless “Yes,” and the second the word leaves my mouth, his tongue sweeps over me, dragging from my entrance to my clit.
His mouth covers me, consumes me, ravenous and desperate in a way that’s purely animalistic.
Large hands slide up the backs of my thighs, fingers digging into the curves of my ass before he wraps them around my waist, as if he has no intention of ever letting go.
His tongue moves like he’s been ready for this his whole life. Every slow circle has my head tipping back and pleasure tightening in my belly. When he pushes deeper, thrusting his tongue inside me, it isn’t just tongue-fucking anymore—it’s ownership.
He’s never done this. I know he hasn’t, but it doesn’t matter. Whatever he lacks in experience, he makes up for in obsession and instinct. Every flick of his tongue, every groan he growls into my cunt, is a giant fuck-you to every man who’s ever laid a hand on my body.
“You’re making me feel so good, Phoenix.” I pant, my whole body already trembling. He groans, then pulls back just enough to look up at me, his lips slick, eyes glazed over. “Can you be really good for me now and let me use your mouth?”
My fingers slide into his hair, and he nods. I tighten my hold, tilt his head back, and watch the muscles flex in his neck.
“Give me your tongue,” I whisper, barely able to get the words out.
He obeys, and I move. I rock my hips over the flat of his tongue, riding his face while he holds me tighter, guiding me as he helps me chase my orgasm.
“Holy shit, Phoenix… you’re gonna make me come so hard.”
I break right there, falling apart around his mouth, dragging him tight against me as the orgasm tears through my body so hard my knees feel useless.
When I finally loosen my grip and sink back against the desk, he doesn’t stop licking me.
He avoids my clit like he knows the touch would be too much and continues to dip inside me and run his tongue along my thighs.
“You taste beautiful.”
Lick.
My fingers slide into his hair, gentler than I should allow, and I quickly force the rush of feelings for him back down.
“I want to do this every day for the rest of my life.”
Suck.
My body jolts, overstimulated and undone, but I still don’t stop him.
“I’ll make you feel so good, baby. I swear I’ll have you moaning like that every fucking day. Whatever you want, whenever you want it. I’ll be everything for you. Just—fuck—just let me.”
Kiss.
“Please let me love you,” he pleads, and my heart cracks straight down the center.
I don’t answer him.
I can’t let myself blur the lines, not with Phoenix.
Not sex and feelings.
Not him and my heart.
I have to keep them separate, or at least pretend I can.
I try to create some distance and start to wiggle my skirt down, but Phoenix is on his feet before it even hits my hips. His hands snap out, gripping my waist like steel cuffs.
His eyes shift from what I know to be his warped version of love to something darker and far more territorial.
“Don’t.” I try to move, but he holds my body still. “Don’t even fucking think about it.”
He feels my need to pull back. I know he does. I can see it in the panic written all over his face.
“I was good for you, so stop running from me.”
One hand leaves my waist, and I watch, completely frozen, as he slides his middle finger between his lips before sinking it inside me. My body jerks, oversensitive and raw, and a broken moan tears from my throat.
“Phoenix, I can’t—”
“You can.” His other hand slides up to grip my jaw, his fingers spreading across my cheek as he forces my face to meet his. “And you fucking will because I’m not done with you yet.”
His eyes are wild. Unhinged. Like a man who hasn’t eaten in years and suddenly found the one thing he was built to feast on.
“Holy… fuck, Shannen.”
He wrenches his finger free, sucking on it slowly before sliding two fingers back inside, pushing deeper, harder. My hips buck so violently I almost slip right off the desk.
“I’ve dreamed of this.” He pants, his forehead now pressed to mine. “Dreamed of being inside you… feeling you… fucking you… getting you to scream your lungs out while I fill you any way you’ll let me.”
His fingers curl, pumping in and out, slow at first, testing, learning, and getting used to the way my body melts for him.
I throw my head back when his fingers graze there—that exploding, blinding spot that makes the whole universe split open behind my eyes.
“Is that it?” he murmurs, already knowing he’s about ten seconds away from sending my soul ricocheting out of my body.
“Don’t stop.”
But of course the asshole does.
His breath is hot against my skin, his fingers slowing until the ache becomes unbearable.
“I hate being edged, Phoenix.”
“Good,” he whispers, keeping his fingers buried deep, stilling just enough to make me tremble.
“You know what I hate? Being denied. My fingers in your cunt are good enough, but my heart isn’t?
” He tsks softly, his silver gaze pinning me in place.
“You realize how shitty that is? I offer you every piece of me, and you keep lying to both of us, pretending you don’t want it. That’s just cruel, baby.”
“Yeah, well, it takes one cruel asshole to recognize another.”
“You think this is cruel?” His hand slides up my throat, his thumb pressing under my jaw, while his fingers curl inside me so slowly it feels like torture.
“Yes.”
He leans in, his lips ghosting over my ear.
“Because I’m not giving you the ending you want?
The one you know I’ll give you eventually, but only after I drag you through hell first?
That’s poetic, don’t you think? You’re doing the exact same thing to me.
You think I love knowing I can make you come but can’t make you stay?
You’re gutting me, pretty girl. Every time you run, it’s another piece torn out.
So tell me, who’s really the cruel one here? ”
Motherfucker’s got me there.
“If I have to torture your body while you keep tearing my fucking heart out, then so be it. I’ll get through to you one way or another.” He drags his thumb across my lips, fingers hooking under my jaw to hold me still. “I’ve missed this mouth so much. I want to kiss you so bad.”
His grip tightens around my throat the second his fingers start moving again, and God help me, I want him. I don’t want to, but I do.
He leans in, close enough that his mouth brushes the edge of mine, and I can feel the way he’s holding himself back. He wants to kiss me, and it’s killing him not to. I see it in the way his eyes drop to my mouth, like he’s one second away from saying Fuck it and taking what he wants.
“Do it,” I whisper, my breath shaking.
Kiss me.
End me.
I’ll be yours.
“No.”
As much as it costs him to deny me, it hurts just as much to hear it.