Fable of Happiness (Fable 1) - Page 45

I wouldn’t drag this out. He wanted to come? I’d make him release as quick as possible.

“Christ.” His forehead furrowed, and his eyes stayed shut, squeezed tight as if in agony and anguish. His hips thrust forward, pushing his heat through my fist, doing what he said and fucking my hand.

The wildness inside him sprang to the surface. A demonic forest dweller who followed no rules and found pleasure wherever the hell he wanted.

He thrust sharper, quicker into my palm.

I matched his pace.

I stroked and tugged, rolling my wrist and dragging my thumb over the slit already damp with pre-cum. His balls throbbed in my hands, growing hotter with every thrust.

It was wrong.

Very wrong.

Yet somehow, I felt powerful. I had a man quaking from my touch. A man who looked as if he could raze entire villages and challenge any other male to death if they came within sniffing distance.

His power transferred to me.

He gave it to me the entire time he shivered under my touch.

I squeezed him harder.

He buckled and thrust faster.

The chemistry between us deleted everything, leaving only misty lust and feverish shame.

“God, don’t stop. Don’t...fucking...stop.” His voice wasn’t human anymore, thick as bristled fur and black as midnight.

I stopped thinking.

I became his to use as he worked himself deeper and faster into my fist.

The muscles in his belly twitched into starker definition. His thighs bunched, and his hands landed in my hair as his lips opened in a feral grunt. His face was one tight grimace. His teeth sharp and features entirely primitive.

“Fuck...” His hair swung around his ears as he tipped his head forward and thrust a final time into my palm. “Fuuuuck!”

His fingers pulsed in my hair in time to the ribbons of cum jettisoning from the top of his cock. My hand grew sticky as the scent of his musk infiltrated the bathroom. On his last clench and jerky sigh, his forehead crashed against mine, and my heart stopped.

His lips sought for me.

His breath skated over my lips.

He dragged me closer by my hair, losing himself to the inevitable kiss.

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t pull away.

I panicked at the thought of what a kiss from this man could mean.

At what it would do to me.

Don’t....

But as his lips almost touched mine, as the heat of his mouth seared my own, common sense slammed into him. He shoved me away so quickly, I tripped over my feet and skidded on my discarded towel.

Falling to my knees, I looked up at him. I blinked at the sudden change, then glanced down at the white threads of his seed all over my hand and wrist. I held evidence that he’d come undone, that the wild beast before me had granted me his power, even if it’d been for a few seconds.

He was about to kiss me...

Raw rage painted his face, killing all the passionate chaos inside him. Raking ten fingers through his hair, he blew out hard then ducked and wrenched up his slacks. He buttoned and zipped with quaking hands, almost as if being naked for longer than necessary was a sin he couldn’t commit.

It went against how I’d met him.

He’d worn nothing that day.

He’d run as if not wearing clothes was familiar and enjoyed.

He’d been a savage barbarian as much as a beast.

So why did he act as if I had no right to see him undressed now?

“Clean that up.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust at my cum-covered hand. “Once you’re done, join me in the bedroom.”

He stalked out before I could blink.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I PACED.

I wanted to run. To bolt. To gallop so far and so fast that this godforsaken place could never trap me again.

She was wrong.

She was dangerous.

Her touch had felt a million times better than any touches from my past. Beyond intense. Terrifyingly consuming. A simple squeeze had stopped my heart. A quick tug had made me detonate. What was I supposed to do with that? How was I supposed to stop my body from wanting more when she put a fucking hex on me?

Christ.

Pacing to the window, I glanced out at the dark-shrouded wilderness. A coyote dashed past in the moonlight, followed by the chatter of a raccoon in the distance.

They were free.

I was not.

I thought I’d earned my freedom; turned out, I was still chained to this place, and now I had yet another cross to bear.

Her.

“I’m...clean.”

Her voice whipped me around.

She stood wrapped in the towel I’d given her, blond hair darkened by water, her hands blessedly washed from my mess. Seeing the evidence of how badly I’d lost control had pissed me off. I’d never liked the by-product of sex. I always found it almost as disgusting as the need for sex itself.

The pleasure she’d granted had blinded me and struck me dumb, but the crash afterward had never hurt so much. I couldn’t keep doing this, but I also couldn’t fucking stop either.

Tags: Pepper Winters Fable Erotic
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