These Emotions
Ares
“Fuck…” The moment she breathes the word, her eyes shut and her head tilts backwards, now propped up on her elbows as I devour her.
I drag her down to the edge of the bed, lowering myself properly as I lift her legs onto my shoulders and wrap my arm around her hips as I lift her off the bed slightly and eat her out.
Her breaths become sharper, her moans louder, and she arches her back, rolling her hips against my face.
That’s my fucking girl, I think with approval.
“Ares… Goddess…” she moans, fisting the bed.
“Just there… That’s it… Oh fuck!” Her orgasm tears through her, her head jerking forward, but I keep her pinned, continuing my assault on her clit until she rides it out.
Only then do I release her, a smirk on my face as I wipe my mouth and jaw with my hand; I’m soaked from her juices, and I fucking love it.
I tap her pussy lightly before I drop onto the bed beside her and scoop her close.
She bites her lips, her pale green eyes burning into mine. “You’re good…” she murmurs, then she’s tugging me closer, and I meet her halfway, my lips claiming hers.
I have kissed dozens of women, but really, they ain’t got anything on her.
Kissing Charlotte is fucking addictive, and now that I’ve started, I just can’t stop.
I lean over her, our tongues caught in a fucking dance.
My hands roam her body, and hers go to my pants, making swift work of the drawstring.
“You’re in a bit of a rush,” I smirk, playing with her breasts whilst kissing her neck sensually.
“You’ve got me naked; I demand the same privilege,” she answers.
“You’re just out of the hospital… Are you up for it? We can stop, get some food in you-”
She moves back and looks at me with raised eyebrows. “I’m fine, and right now I want you out of these pants.”
I can tell from the look on her face that she ain’t about to back down. I hesitate; even if my body wants it, my mind is trying to be fucking logical.
“Ares…” she warns. Her hand slips into my pants, and that fucking solves that battle as pleasure rushes through me. “I want to see you.”
“Alright then, as you wish,” I growl, sucking on her nipple for a second before forcing myself to get up and remove my pants. “Ain’t nothing special to see here; I ain’t as fine as you.”
“I think I’d be the judge of that, Westwood,” she says, her eyes already trailing over me, and even I notice the appreciation in them. She sits up and runs her hand down my abs.
“You’re built like a beast…” She almost purrs. That tone makes me stiffen for a second, but she hasn’t noticed the effect it has on me; her eyes already on my obvious hard-on beneath my fitted boxers.
I reach out, combing my fingers through her hair. “Want to do the honours?” I ask, tugging her head back slightly, forcing her to look up at me.
“With pleasure,” she says, hooking her fingers into the band of my boxers and sliding them down; her heart thuds as I spring free, and she licks her lips. Alright, maybe there is something to see; even I know what I got going for me. “You definitely were not hard in the tunnels.”
I grunt. “I know. Did you think I was lying?”
“Maybe,” she whispers. Her eyes meet mine for a second as her hands wrap around my cock, stroking the length, her thumb brushing the pre-cum along the tip. Pleasure darts through me the moment she touches me, and I allow her two strokes before I take hold of her wrists and stop her.
“I have control, Princess… but not that much,” I growl.
Then I lean down and kiss her, pinning her wrists to the bed as I straddle her, my dick pressing against her stomach as we kiss hungrily, and then I grab my cock and press it against her entrance.
Rubbing her tiny pussy with the tip, the pleasure that zaps through me makes me clench my jaw, and I curse as I press at her core.
She’s small, and I’m looking fucking thick and huge against her.
I’m sure she isn’t, but I need to ask…
“You’re not a virgin, are you, Arden?” I murmur, kneeling in front of her.
“No,” she says. For a moment she searches my eyes as if looking for something.
“Good, ‘cause this is going to hurt,” I say before I enter her with one firm thrust, restraining myself, and still she cries out, her entire body reacting to my cock now squeezed inside of her pussy.
“Fuck, Ares…” she whimpers, her nails digging into me.
“Breathe for me,” I say, massaging her hips, giving her the time she needs; her body relaxing beneath me slowly.
She may have had other men; who fucking cares? I’ve had other women, and whether it’s because of the mate bond or not, none came close to this sweet pussy beneath me, and I’m sure she’s experiencing something similar.
I begin moving inside of her, my eyes trailing down her body, pleasure consuming me as she wraps around me oh so fucking perfectly.
I watch the way her tits bounce, the way her stomach is taut, and then where our bodies meet.
My jaw clenches as I slide almost fully out, then slam into her again, making her entire body jerk at the move.
It feels way too fucking good, and the groan that threatens to leave me almost alarms me.
I don’t fucking get that reaction usually.
Fuck, she’s delicious. I look back at her face as I lean closer again, one hand going to her thigh, pressing it against my side, the other combing her hair back as I kiss her again.
Alright, I’ll admit, it feels fucking good between my fingers. I guess I’ll quietly put up with whatever the hell she does with it to make it feel so good, even if it takes hours.
She moans softly, pulling me closer, her leg hooking around my thigh, one hand on my waist, the other cupping the side of my neck as she kisses me back with equal desire.
Damn girl…
All I can think about is the intense fucking high I’m feeling, but it isn’t just pleasure.
It’s her. It’s Charlotte beneath me, holding onto me like she isn’t trying to stay perfectly composed for once in her damn life.
Her nails bite into my skin, her breath trembles against my mouth, and every sound she makes goes straight through me, deeper than it should, past lust, past the bond, into some place in my chest I’ve spent my entire life making sure no one could reach.
I kiss her harder because I don’t know what else to do with it.
I don’t know how to tell her that she’s ruining me in the best and worst fucking way, that every part of me feels more awake with her, more alive, more dangerous.
She whispers my name again, softer this time, and it hits harder than any scream could have.
I press my forehead to hers, my hand tightening at her thigh as something pulls between us, hot and relentless, making it impossible to tell where my pleasure ends and hers begins.
“Look at me,” I growl huskily, and when her eyes open, grey and dazed and burning into mine, something in me breaks open.
This is not just fucking. I know that now, even if I don’t have the pretty words for it.
This is Charlotte letting me see her without the armour, without the sharp smile or polished little walls, and me giving her the same in the only way I know how — with my body over hers, my mouth against hers, and every instinct I have telling her without words that she is mine, and I am already hers.
She holds me tighter, her whimpering becoming louder, and I can feel her walls tightening around me, her body tensing, and I know she’s nearing.
“Ares…” My forehead touches hers as she whispers my name; it sounds almost like a prayer.
The urge to mark her suddenly intensifies, and my gaze dips to her neck. Instead, I kiss her there, refusing to let my wolf get his way as I hold out, waiting for her to reach her climax before I let go of my own.
She’s close, her breathing rapid, her gasps now almost whimpers.
“Come for me, Charlotte…” I whisper huskily.
And she does.
Hard.
Intense.
And fucking beautifully.
And I let go, too, pleasure ripping through me as the pure fucking satisfaction of my climax sizzles through me.
I stroke her hair, and I hold her as she comes down from her high, her entire body trembling from the aftermath of her release.
“I got you,” I say, both of us out of breath, the sound of our panting suddenly loud in the room.
For a moment neither of us moves.
Fuck.
I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to. My body feels heavy, her body is warm beneath mine, and every part of my body tingles where it touches hers.
Annoying fucking thing.
Charlotte’s fingers are still in my hair, her other hand gripping my shoulder, and I can feel the slight tremble still running through her. And it feels good knowing I caused that reaction.
That does something to me.
Something I don’t want to name.
I look down at her, and she gazes back at me, her cheeks flushed, lips parted, hair a mess beneath her head. Not perfect. Not polished. Not Princess Arden with her sharp tongue and too-fancy manners.
Just Charlotte… My girl.
Fuck.
That thought hits hard.
Her hand slides from my hair to the side of my face, and for some reason that feels more dangerous than anything we just did. I tense a little, because I don’t know what she’s about to say, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do if she gets soft on me.
I don’t do soft.
Not well.
“You’re frowning,” she whispers.
“I’m thinking.”
“That explains the struggle,” she replies dryly.
A laugh leaves me before I can stop it, rough and low, and her lips curve slightly. Even like this, she’s still got a mouth on her. “Careful, Arden,” I mutter.
“Charlotte,” she corrects, voice quieter now. “I prefer it…”
My jaw tightens.
Yeah.
That.
“Charlotte,” I say, letting it roll off my tongue, then I smirk faintly. Her eyes soften, her heart skipping a beat.
Fuck me.
That look should be illegal.
I lower my head, brushing my mouth over hers, not hard this time, not because I’m trying to start anything again, but because I don’t know how else to answer that look.
Her lips move softly beneath mine, and for once it doesn’t feel like a fight.
It feels slower. Deeper. Like we’ve both stopped pretending there isn’t something bigger than just the pull between us.
When I move back, her thumb brushes my jaw.
“You’re not in a rush to leave,” she murmurs.
“Why the fuck would I be?” I frown.
Her expression shifts, and I realise a second too late that it isn’t just some stupid comment. She means it. She expected me to pull away, to put space between us, or maybe make some rude remark and pretend none of this got under my skin.
I slide my arm beneath her and pull her properly against me, turning us onto our sides. A small gasp of surprise escapes her, but she lets me pull her close, her body pressing against mine, her face close enough that I can still feel her breath on my mouth.
“I might not commit easily, but I’m loyal as fuck. If I’ve made the decision to accept this bond… then I’m staying. Now and every single time in the future.”
Her eyes search mine, and I hate how much she sees. “That’s… sweet. I didn’t think you would be this gentle,” she murmurs.
“I’m not gentle,” I reply gruffly.
“No?”
“No.”
Her fingers trace lazily over my chest, right where my heart is still beating too hard. “You are right now.”
I look down at her hand, then back at her. “Don’t go saying that shit out loud.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“It better be; I have a reputation.”
She smiles, and it’s softer than usual, content, and for once she doesn’t tease me.
My heart clenches, and I reach up and push her hair back from her face, my fingers catching in the strands.
Her hair is all over the place, and I should probably make a comment about it looking like she lost a fight with the bedsheets, but I don’t.
Because I like it.
Fuck’s sake.
She catches my wrist gently. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Ares.”
“What?”
“You were looking at me strangely.”
“I look at everyone strangely.”
“You were looking at me, dare I say it, softly.” She smiles faintly.
I scoff. “No, I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“Must’ve been the lighting.”
“There is barely any lighting.”
“Then it was the lack of it.”
She laughs softly, and I feel it against me. I don’t know why that sound settles in me the way it does, but it does. Something warm and comforting. Even my wolf likes the sound of it.
Yesterday I was avoiding her, insulting her, telling myself she was irritating, distracting and too fucking pretty for my peace of mind.
Now I’m lying here with her tucked against me, wanting to bite anyone who so much as looks at her wrong and pretending I’m normal about it.
I’m not normal about it.
Not even close.
Her hand moves up to my neck, fingers brushing the place where my pulse beats. “You’re frowning again.”
“Get used to it; I frown 95 percent of the time.”
“That I agree with,” she replies. Her lips twitch as she suppresses a smile. She just looks at me, and there’s something in her eyes that makes my throat feel tight. An intense wave of emotions crashes through me at the expression of contentment on her face.
She looks content, and the fact that it’s ‘cause of me? That’s fucking terrifying.
I swallow, brushing my thumb along her waist. “You alright?”
“Yes.”
“Actually?”
Her gaze softens. “Actually.”
“Good.”
“You have asked me that already.”
“I’ll ask again if I want.”
“I am beginning to realise that.”
“You got a problem with it?”
“No,” she says quietly, and there’s no teasing in it now. “I don’t.”
I stare at her.
My chest does that stupid thing again.
I don’t know what to say, so I kiss her forehead. It’s quick. Barely anything. But she stills like I’ve just handed her something precious, and then her arm tightens around me.
Goddess.
This woman.
I close my eyes for a second, letting myself feel it.
Her warmth.
Her scent.
The bond.
The fact that she’s here and breathing and in my arms and not lying pale in a hospital bed with poison in her veins while I stood there uselessly wanting to tear the world apart.
“I was scared,” I mutter before I can stop myself.
She goes still.
Fuck.
There it is.
Too much.
I keep my eyes closed, because it’s easier that way. “When you collapsed. When you wouldn’t wake. I fucking hated it.”