“Oh,” she gasped, clenching too tightly to his hair but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, the harder she clenched, the harder he sucked, until she thought her eyes would roll back in her head. “Radley. . .”
He growled against her core, the sound sending vibrations through her bones that made her core clench. His tongue circled her clit until she was so tense, she was certain she was suffocating him with her thighs. He didn’t even pause, didn’t struggle. He just clenched her ass and pressed in harder, like he couldn’t get enough.
“Come for me,” he grunted against her, and as if his command was all that was needed, her whole body shot to the very edge and held, just on the precipice of pleasure. “Give in to me,” he ordered savagely, and swiped his tongue up through her seam.
Was she even breathing? Surely not. Cricket couldn’t even think as she hung there, one second from exploding. She thought she’d never tip over the edge, not until Radley swirled his tongue and slipped a finger into her core before curling it. She shot over the edge with a ferocity that would put even a dragon to shame. Cricket cried out as she came against Radley’s face, as she clawed at anything she could. She was definitely suffocating him with her thighs, but he didn’t seem to care as he continued to lick her through her release. His eyes were looking up at her where she shivered with aftershocks, but he pulled back quickly and moved. She didn’t know what he was doing as he dropped her toes gently to the earth, not until he pressed a kiss against her hipbone.
It was a sweet gesture. . . until it wasn’t.
Without warning, Radley sunk his teeth into the soft tissue there, digging in his suddenly sharp canines.
Cricket cried out in pain and smacked at him, a thump that echoed around the trees, but he didn’t release her until he wanted to, running his tongue over the red marks left behind.
“Did you just fucking bite me?” she grunted, shoving him away from her. He tumbled backward in surprise, clearly only moving and falling on his ass because he hadn’t expected her reaction. He blinked up at her and then looked at the mark he left behind. His expression grew sheepish.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Yeah, it hurt,” she grunted. Pointing to the bite wound, she said, “look at it. Does it look like it felt like rainbows and butterflies?”
Radley snorted at her words and shook his head. “My apologies. It was. . . instinct.”
Cricket froze. “You mean you marked me.”
“It’s not permanent or anything—”
“Do you know what my father would do to you if he saw this?” she asked, panic threading through her words. “Radley, he would literally kill you.”
“I know that—”
Her eyes widened. “They’ll be able to smell the mark, won’t they? Isn’t that how the mark works?”
“Only other wolves can smell markings like that,” he said and then his face pinched. “But there are other creatures who could also scent me on you. Fae, however, are not a part of that.”
She blew out a breath. “This is bad, right? Should I be worried? Maybe I can scrub the scent away.”
A mix of pride and arrogance slammed down on his face as he got comfortable and watched her. “You can’t scrub me from you. But if we stop touching, it’ll naturally disappear after so many weeks.”
Cricket narrowed her eyes on him. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
He smirked. “Maybe a little.”
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation, wolf,” she grunted, rubbing at the sore spot on her hip.
“Oh, I do,” he reassured her. “And I accept the risks.”
“You accept the risks?”
He nodded. “Even if your father attempted to kill me, it would still be worth it.”
“We’re racing in two days,” she wheezed. “The scent won’t fade before then.”
“I said I accept the risks.”
She whirled on him. “And I don’t want you to die for me!”
Her voice echoed in the woods around them, silencing the wildlife for a moment before they started up again, deeming her no threat to them. Radley stared into her eyes for long moments before he stood to his full height before her. Carefully, he cupped her jaw.
“If I want to die for you, that’s my decision, sugar plum. Not yours.”
“Radley—”
“However,” he continued. “There will be no dying. I know what I’m up against. I’m a wolf, but I’m not stupid. Your father can’t harm me. I’m more worried about what he would do to you if he found out.”
“He wouldn’t hurt me. He’d just lock me in a cage.”
“Which is exactly the worst kind of hurt,” he replied. “I understand the situation. I know we can’t be together. I’m sorry I forgot the rules for a moment.”
Her heart broke at his words. She knew they couldn’t be together, had known. But hearing him say the words out loud, knowing he also knew, made something in her ache at the unfairness of it all. In a perfect world, she’d have told him he was wrong, that they could fight against everyone to be together, but saying such things was cruel. Her father would never allow it. Sure, there were those who dated among the other races, who married and lived, but none of them were a Snapdragon. The world would never allow someone like her to go against the system, not unless it was somehow a better story than the alternative. She wasn’t important enough for that, not as a person. Only her name held weight.
Cricket stepped back away from him and grabbed her shorts, pulling them on quickly. “I’m glad you understand how things are,” she whispered. “We should head back and rest. The ball is tomorrow.”
“Cricket—”
“A lot will probably happen there. And we’ll have to watch our backs. So many will be coming after us.”
“Sugar plum.”
“What?” she said, meeting his eyes.
He stared at her, a mask covering his face. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, couldn’t see what he was hiding, but she didn’t need to worry about that. He revealed it a moment later. “If I could change the way things were, I would in a heartbeat,” he murmured.
Everything in her cried out at the acceptance in his voice. She wanted to fight, but he was right. There was no changing that. “I know,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper. She took a seat in the dirt, uncaring if she got dirty or not. As if on cue, a small rabbit risked coming out to nuzzle against her. “You think we’re going to make it?” she asked sadly.
“We’re going to win,” Radley replied, ignoring the way she’d phrased the question in favor of the Race. But they both knew she hadn’t meant winning the race. She’d meant surviving it at all.
“You have that much faith in me?” She looked up at him.
Radley immediately took a seat before her. The rabbit trusted her so much to keep it safe, it didn’t even pay the wolf any mind. “I have that much faith in us,” he corrected, reaching out to take her hand. “We may have started this as enemies, but we’re going to finish it as. . .” He trailed off, as if not quite sure what to say.
“Friends?” she asked, smiling gently. “I’ve never had a true friend. It might be nice.”
His eyes flashed, as if he didn’t want to use that word, but he nodded his head anyway. “Sure,” he murmured. “Friends.”
The moment was heavy with foreboding, something whispering on the wind, but they both chose to ignore the heaviness, and in the end, Radley chose to break it completely with comedy.
“Maybe friends with benefits,” he corrected. “But I mean—”
Cricket laughed and smacked him playfully on the arm. “We should head back.”
“We should,” he smiled.
But they ended up sitting in the forest for another hour, simply being in each other’s presence. After all, things would change drastically the next day, and there was nothing they could do to stop it. . .