Chapter 21 #3
Slowly, I turned around. I should have prepared myself better. Air sizzled down my throat as I sucked in, my chest locking up.
His 6’7” frame loomed at the edge of the tree line shrouded in darkness. Only aqua eyes burned through the fog and shadows, punching through my gut.
I was tough. A force. I could kill in a blink, but in the face of this man’s dominance, I would let him burn me to the ground.
We stared at each other, threads webbing in the air, emotion crackling in the space between us. There was no one else. Nothing else. Even without our link, I could feel his rage, the hurt he buried underneath, the fine line he walked between wanting to love me and kill me.
“Warwick—”
“Shut the fuck up, princess.” His voice scraped along the dirt, climbing up my legs and slithering between my thighs.
He stepped out from the trees, his gaze narrowed on me, his entire body throbbing with energy, making him fill up every available breath of air.
My eyes devoured him. Dirty, bloody, and battle-worn, he was the most carnal, wild, virile man I had ever encountered.
There were no half-measures with him. When he took, he took it all.
My mouth opened again to say something, but he let out a low growl.
“I will tell you when you can fucking speak.” He strode up to me.
His aqua eyes tracked me, his nose flaring as he inhaled, his jaw cracking as he reached up to my face, zapping electricity through my veins.
My lungs tripped over themselves when he gently trailed his fingers down my cheek, his eyes softening for a moment, like he couldn’t believe I was really here.
Then it was gone.
A snarl ebbed up his throat, and he roughly seized my neck, his thumb tipping up my chin, his gaze hardening, rage coming from his pores. His shoulders expanded, wrath bringing the Legend to the surface. There was no point in apologies, no use in begging for his forgiveness.
Nor would I.
My eyes met the Wolf’s, the man famous for coming back from the dead and seeking his revenge, slaughtering thousands with calculated cruelty and no remorse. The man who people considered death himself.
And I was his maker.
I did not challenge him, but I didn’t bow down either. He would never apologize to me if roles were reversed, nor would I to him. This was what I had to do. I would not be sorry.
His chest heaved as my gaze burrowed into him, sensing no regret, no remorse. Our stances clashed like waves against a rock, unrelenting and unbreakable.
His grip on my throat tightened, his thumb digging into the soft spot under my chin. “You think I can’t break you, princess?” he growled, yanking me into his body, his physique vibrating with anger.
Blinking, my mouth parted to speak.
“I may not be able to sense you like normal or feel the bond, but I know your expression, Kovacs. I know how you think.” He snarled, his mouth so close to mine, heat beaded up the back of my neck, plunging down into my core. “And I will break you.”
“Just try, Farkas,” I whispered hoarsely back at him. He jerked at the sound of my voice, his ribs knocking into mine.
“I told you not to fucking open your mouth. Unless it’s to wrap around my cock.
” He pulled me in so close, his nose knocked into me, his mouth brushing mine.
His nearness almost broke me. His touch, his smell, the feel of him pressing against me built a sob in my gut, realizing how much I had missed him.
Sensing my need for him, he yanked me back, his lip lifting, staring down at me. His anger was too vivid for him to allow me any comfort.
I was to be punished.
His blue-green eyes darkened as he let go of my throat, grabbing my arm and hauling me with him. His large steps forced me to double mine, taking us farther away from camp.
Stopping right at the Ferris wheel, its human birdcages creaking and swaying in the breeze. He whipped me around to face him, his voice thick.
“Strip,” he ordered.
Inhaling sharply, hating and loving how violently he could make my body react had my pussy pulsing. He’d trained it to sit, wait, and beg.
My gaze never leaving his, I yanked off my jacket, pulling my sweater over my head, leaving me in my sports bra.
“I said strip, not a striptease.” Though his gaze trailed over my bare skin hungrily, pausing on the scars marking my body from the trauma we had gone through. The moments we survived together.
Kicking my boots off, I wiggled out of my trousers and socks, leaving me just in a bra and underwear. A noise rattled in his chest, his eyes sliding over every inch of me. Though I didn’t feel cold, I shivered, the freezing temperatures melting against my heated skin.
His boots nipped at the tips of my toes, his palm brushing up my arm, causing more goosebumps to pimple my flesh. His frame loomed over mine, eclipsed and engulfed, so easy to consume and swallow me whole. I wanted him to. Whatever he was going to do to me, I craved it.
His fingers moved to the elastic hem of my bra, hands scraping over my nipples. My mouth parted, my body pulsed, wetness seeping from me.
Fuck. I forgot how easily Warwick could rob me of all logic.
As though he realized his touch was too gentle, he grabbed the fabric, ripping the sports bra off me in a single rip, his warm palms covering my breasts, kneading them roughly and flicking at my nipples, creating gasps from my throat.
He muttered something under his breath before he stepped away.
“Get the fuck on your knees, Kovacs.”
Once again, I kept my gaze glued to him as I lowered myself, anticipation skating over my nerves.
My breath picked up as he reached for his pants, undoing the zipper and sliding them down his legs.
His massive bulge was no longer contained in his boxer shorts, the tip of his cock pushing out, dripping with pre-cum.
My pussy pulsed, clawing with the need to feel him thrust inside me.
The need hit so hard my head spun, a small cry popping off my tongue.
Warwick clutched my chin, his other hand pushing his boxers down, stroking himself. “You don’t get relief until I say. You understand?”
I nodded. The sound of my heart thumped in my ears, my mouth craving his taste.
“Take off your panties. I want to see your desire leak down your leg while I fuck your mouth.”
Bazdmeg. Heat swathed my body, trembling my muscles. I pulled off my soaked knickers, the cool air licking between my folds. The contradiction of the freezing temperatures against my hot skin only increased the sensations running through me.
Warwick wound his finger through my hair, gripping the back of my head with a sharp tug, tipping my head back. I didn’t hesitate; I licked the tip of him, tasting, feeling him jerk as I wrapped my tongue around him. I took him into my mouth as far as I could, sliding him down my throat.
“Fuck!” Warwick seethed, his fingers digging into my scalp.
Painfully slow, I licked and sucked, feeling the pulsing vein in his cock tighten against his skin, pumping blood faster.
“Ko-vacs,” he growled, slipping between anger and pleasure, his hand pushing his cock down deeper.
My nails dug into his ass, bringing him closer as I picked up my pace, a hum building in the back of my throat.
“Fuck!” he spat. “Fuck.” His grip on my hair was constricting, triggering wetness to drip from me; my need grew so sharply that it felt almost painful. His hips pumped, pushing in so deep that my eyes watered, and my throat burned.
He wanted retribution. To punish me. And I wanted more. To be the one who would bring him to his knees.
Sliding my hands down his ass, I cupped his balls, rolling and tugging on them, the vibration in my throat deepening.
“Fuuuucckk!” A roar echoed in the night.
His grip twisted through my hair, yanking on the strands, sending desire straight to my core.
My pussy throbbed so hard, and I ached for relief, sensing my own climax coming along with his.
I reached down, rubbing through my folds, ebbing the ache, our groans filling the air.
“No,” he ground out, wrenching my head back, pulling away from me, forcing me to look up at him, his eyes burning with lust and fury. “You only get relief when I say.”
Hauling me to my feet, he rammed me back into the Ferris wheel, the cold metal bars of the carriage pressing into my spine, the shock causing me to gasp.
Stripping off his jacket and t-shirt, his ripped torso pulled my focus, distracting me.
The urge to touch him, to feel every muscle and scar under my fingers, to trace his tattoos with my tongue, had me reaching for him.
A snarl lifted his lip as he cupped my wrists with one hand, yanking them over my head. Using his t-shirt, he tied my arms to the carriage bars, stretching my naked body out, shooting a thread of exhilarated fear through me, feeling my vulnerability.
Getting out of his boots and pants, Warwick stepped up to me, his breath slipping over my skin, tantalizing every cell in my body. Two fingers slid up my inner thigh, grazing across my folds.
“You will pay, princess.” Brutal savagery reflected in his eyes as his fingers parted me, sliding through.
“Oh gods.” I moaned, the frosty temperatures upping the intensity of every touch, my back arching, my hips opening wider as he continued his intentionally slow movement through me.
“Fucking dripping for me,” he rumbled, a nerve in his cheek twitching like it took everything to stay in control. “Your pussy miss me?” He rubbed harder, his fingers teasing my entrance.
“Fuck . . . yes.” My legs opened wider, my hips bucking into him. My body was angry at me for going this long without him.
“How bad does it want my dick sinking into it? Fucking it so hard and deep?” His fingers teased me but didn’t go farther.
My head was a blur of need, no longer able to think past anything but him. The world could crumble down around us, and I wouldn’t care as long as he was inside me.
“Warwick . . .” A plea broke from me, clamoring for his touch, for the feel of him.