Chapter 3 #2
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his thumb stroking the mark on my neck, sending sparks skittering down my spine.
“I think I’m starting to get a picture,” I breathed, pulling my lower lip between my teeth.
His gaze swept over me again, slower this time, and it was different. This wasn’t the quick, instinctive glance from before. This was him claiming me with his eyes, lingering on the rise of my breasts, on the tight, sensitive points of my nipples. A low, satisfied hum rumbled in his chest.
“You’re so small,” he said, but it wasn’t an insult. He was marveling at me, almost as if he was committing every inch of me to memory. He let go of my waist, slid his hand up my side, his palm warm and callused, his thumb brushing the swell of my breast. “And so responsive.”
My inner wolf preened under the attention, a contented growl building in my chest.
Then his hand slid down my back, over the curve of my ass, and he squeezed.
I sucked in a breath, trying to bite back the gasp that billowed up in my throat, but it was difficult as a rush of heat spiraled down to the pit of my core.
He palmed my backside in his hand, kneading me, pulling me tighter against the hard ridge of his cock, and my hips rolled in response, a seeking motion that was as instinctual as it was shameless.
I was slick. Wet. Ready for him.
And he knew it.
Sound rumbled in his chest again, as his gaze dropped down to my nipples. He let go of my neck and circled one with his thumb, and the jolt that shot through me was so intense it made my knees weak.
I swayed, and he tightened his grip on me, holding me up and still as he bent his head. I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t.
Instead, he bit me.
Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make my breath catch in my throat.
His teeth scraped right over the mark on the side of my throat, and a fiery wave of sensation crashed over me, so intense it made me dizzy.
My body hummed like a livewire, every nerve ending alight, every touch magnified a hundred times over.
I was a mess of want and need, my mind a blur of sensation, my body arching into him, demanding more.
“Most of the time, I let you lead, but right now, you’re going to obey me, little mate,” he growled and my clit throbbed in tune with his words.
I needed to regain some sort of control.
“I’m your leader. You’re supposed to follow my command,” I countered fiercely.
He lifted his head, his eyes burning with heat. He traced the shape of my lips with his thumb, and I couldn’t quiet the gasp that escaped me just then.
A dark smile touched his lips. My stomach squeezed tight.
“Oh, Tamsin… When it comes to the Accord, you’re our commanding officer,” he murmured, his breath brushing my ear. “But when it comes to being our mate, you’ll do as you’re told.”
A thrill, sharp and terrifying, shot through me. This wasn’t the man who had patched up my skinned knees or taught me how to skin a rabbit. This was the Griff I’d seen on the battlefield, the man who could lead men into hell and bring most of them back out safely.
This was the wolf who had claimed me as his mate.
And every cell in my body was screaming in agreement.
He claimed my mouth then, and his kiss was nothing like what I’d imagined a kiss would be like in my most secret moments.
This wasn’t a gentle exploration, a tentative meeting of lips.
It was a claiming. Rough, demanding, punishing.
One of his hands tangled in my hair, holding me still as he plundered my mouth, his tongue tasting and teasing.
He kissed me like he was trying to devour me, to memorize the shape of my lips, the texture of my tongue, the very essence of my soul.
The scent of him made my head spin.
His knee slid between my legs, pressing up against my core, and the friction of his pants against my most sensitive place was a sudden, electric shock. I gasped into his mouth, my hands flying up to clutch at his shoulders, my nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.
My inner wolf whimpered, a soft, desperate sound that he swallowed. My body was no longer my own. It was a vessel for this need, this desperate, clawing hunger that threatened to consume me.
I broke the kiss, gasping for air, my head falling back as I arched against him.
“Griff,” I breathed raggedly, desperately. “Please.”
A wickedly devious smile touched his lips. “Please what, little mate?”
Those words, spoken in that hoarse, growling tone, sent another jolt through me.
Then his hand left my hip, sliding down my stomach, and I tensed, anticipation coiling tight in my belly.
His fingers, callused and strong, slid through the folds between my legs, and I shuddered, my hips pushing instinctively toward his touch.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his voice a breathy rasp against my ear.
“I want you,” I managed, my voice barely a whisper.
He chuckled, a wickedly dark sound. “You have me.”
His fingers found my clit, and I cried out in half pleasure, half surprise. He circled the sensitive bundle of nerves between my legs, once, twice, and then I was lost. My hips moved against his hand, seeking, demanding, my breath coming in ragged pants.
“You’re so wet for me,” he observed, his fingers sliding lower, teasing my entrance. “So ready.”
I was. I was more ready than I had ever been for anything in my life. The need was a like a living thing inside me, a desperate, clawing hunger that only he could satisfy.
“Please, Griff,” I begged again, my body arching against him. “Please.”
He answered not with words, but with action. He pushed one finger inside me and I gasped, my inner muscles clamping down on the intrusion, a sudden, aching stretch that was almost pain, but not quite.
It was just right.
Perfect.
Exactly what I needed.
“You’re so tight,” he growled, a note of satisfaction in his voice. “But you’ll take what I give you, won’t you?”
I nodded.
I would take anything he gave me.
He began to move that single digit. In and out. A slow drag that had me trembling, my breath catching in my throat. His thumb found my clit again, circling, pressing, and the hot desire within me built, winding tighter with every teasing caress.
“You’re going to come for me,” he commanded. “That way, you’ll never forget which of us is alpha.”
I didn’t realize I was about to come until I was already coming.
My orgasm hit me, hot and heavy and poignant.
My inner walls fluttered, clamping down over and over again on his finger.
White-hot bliss pumped through me, making my fingers and toes curl.
A desperate keening moan escaped me as my hips pumped back and forth and I bit my lip, trying to keep quiet and utterly failing.
Pleasure washed through me, and a wave of liquid heat gushed from my core, slicking my thighs and soaking his hand.
He didn’t stop. He kept stroking me through it, drawing out the pleasure until the tremors from my orgasm finally quelled.
I sagged against him, spent. For a long moment, I couldn’t do anything but breathe, my head pillowed on his chest, the solid beat of his heart a steady rhythm in my ear.
He held me like that, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other still resting against my slick heat. His thumb stroked lazy circles over my hip, a touch that was both comforting and possessive. I took a deep breath, just breathing him in and grounding myself in his scent.
Then, without warning, the world tilted.
His arm tightened around my waist, lifting me up as he half-carried, half-dragged me a few feet to a fallen log slick with moss. He sat down, and for a second, I thought he was going to kiss me again, or maybe just hold me.
Instead, he dumped me face down over his knees.
The sudden movement sent a dizzying rush of blood to my head. My palms hit the damp earth on one side of the log, my bare legs flailing for a second before I found my balance. My stomach pressed against the rough fabric of his trousers, and the position raised my ass high into the air.
Jesus Christ.
I was completely exposed.
The vulnerability sent an intense jolt of desire through me, followed quickly by a powerful spike of indignation.
“Griff,” I started, pushing up on my hands to try to get off his lap. “What the hell—”
The question, and half of my breath, was knocked out of me by the first hard smack against my right ass cheek.
It wasn’t gentle.
And then he did it again.
His palm connected with the curve of my ass with a stinging crack that echoed in the quiet clearing. Pain blossomed across my backside, and I gasped, the scalding heat far more than I was prepared for.
He spanked me again and I yelped, sounding way more undignified than I liked.
“Running off alone, after everything that’s happened, wasn’t the wisest thing you’ve ever done, little mate,” he growled.
He slapped the other cheek, just as hard.
I jerked, a startled gasp tearing from my throat. The sting was exquisite, a bright, shocking pleasure that made my clit throb. My hips wriggled a bit in desperation, seeking more of the sensation, more of the punishing contact.
“You’re the leader of the Accord, Tamsin,” he continued, another quick slap landing on the crease where my thigh met my ass. “You don’t get to act like a reckless child.”
“I wasn’t—” I gasped as his palm connected again, a little lower this time, so close to my slick folds that my whole body tensed in anticipation. “I was fine!”
“Were you?” He punctuated the question with two quick, hard smacks, right on the tender skin of my thighs. “Someone could have followed you. You could have hurt yourself. Someone could have hurt you. You could have died!”