Page 23 of The Crimson Wolf
I kick my arms and legs, but it’s no use. I crawl out from the comforter and lean over the side of the bed, pulling at the sheets. Did he superglue his bed together? How is this so difficult? Thunder roars into the room, and something smacks against the window. I scream and fall out of bed.
His footsteps slam down the hallway, and the bedroom door bursts open. “Red, are you okay?”
I’m thankful it’s dark because my cheeks burn as I pick myself off his floor and struggle to my feet. “Yes, sorry, Ijust fell out of bed.” I rub at my sore elbow as my eyes catch his shirtless figure stepping closer to me. My throat clogs, and I take a step backward, clenching the damn top sheet behind me. “I, uh, it’s these sheets. I tried to get under them, but they’re so tight.”
“Oh.” He runs his hand through his messy hair, eyes searching my body. “Sorry, my dad always made sure my bed was military-grade, and I guess it’s just a habit that stuck. Here, let me help you.” He’s so close to me, and he reaches down to pull the sheet out from the bottom of the mattress.
“No, it’s okay. You should get back to bed.” I can’t take being so near to him. The words jumble out of my mouth as if they’re a rushing faucet. I try to push him away, but when my hands touch his arms, I realize it’s a mistake.
His skin is warm, and his earthy scent seems to wrap around me and pull me closer. I close my eyes, pressing my body against his as he turns toward me and wraps me in his arms.
His body is hard against mine, and before I can talk myself out of it, I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his lips to mine.
It’s like the flick of a switch: the energy in the room shifts, and my brain flashes blank—my want completely takes over, and the need to have him draped over every inch of me consumes me. His hands move quickly. He grabs myass, pulling me against him as I wrap my legs around his waist.
He breaks away from our kiss, and his lips find my ear. “Red,” he whispers. “Oh, God.” He leans me back against his bed, his body never leaving mine. I taste the desperation on his tongue as it pushes deeper into me. The years of pent-up want taste so good, and it’s like he’s consuming me from the inside out.
I reach for the bottom of my shirt, wanting—needing, to feel his bare skin against mine. Before I even get it over my belly button, Jack’s hands push mine away, and he’s yanking it off me, nearly tearing it in half.
The moment we separate for the shirt to be pulled over my head is too much. It’s like my cells are holding their breath and can barely take the lack of contact. Jack’s nerves must feel the same way, too, because he swoops down, one hand gripping my breast and the other wrapped around the back of my throat. His touch isn’t gentle; it’s as if he’s tortured, and my body is his only source of reprieve from his pain.
My feet work down his sweatpants, and I reach to feel him. “Oh, my god.” I pull away to moan, and he shutters as my hand wraps around his length. Jack’s a big guy. I never doubted that he’d be packing, but as I slowly stroke up and down, I can barely believe how large and thick he is.
“Red, slow down,” he whispers into my ear with a rush of forced air.
I’m already moving as slowly as possible, but my simple touch seems too much for him. A fire drops to the pit of my stomach at the thought of how much he wants me. This moment is all of my horny teenage dreams come true. The power that zips through my veins that he wants me as much—maybe even more than I want him, is almost too much.
He pulls away from me, grabs the boxers I’m wearing, and pulls them down my legs. Once I’m completely bare, he holds himself up with his arms, his eyes moving up and down my body. He turns his head away from me and bites his lips. “Fuck, Red. I can’t believe this is finally happening.”
I’m thinking the same thing, but I don’t want to think. If I think, I’ll talk myself out of this. Even though every cell of my body has melted and the urge to have him inside me is one I don’t think I could quelch on my own, there’s a part of my brain that knows this is a bad idea.
I reach up and grab his neck, pulling him back into me. “Fuck me,” I whisper into his ear, grabbing his cock and positioning it at my entrance.
He resists for a second as if he wants to take his time. I’m sure the man could ravish me in a hundred possible ways, but right now, I don’t have time for it. This is yearsof pent-up sexual frustration, and I need him inside of me urgently. I wiggle my hips under him, grinding against him, and finally, he snaps. He jerks up, slamming open his bedside drawer and grabbing a condom. He rips it open with his teeth and hurriedly rolls it on. He crashes his lips into mine and pushes himself into me. It all happens so fast; I’m thankful he has a brain cell left to make the smart call. I cry out at his first thrust, the size of him causing pain to shoot up my body.
“Are you okay?” He pulls back, studying me.
I nod. “Keep going,” I beg.
He kisses down my neck and slowly pulls out and back in. The pain lessens with each thrust, and within a matter of seconds, I’m swirling into an abyss of pleasure. His abs rub against my clit as he works himself deeper and deeper with each thrust.
“This is too good,” he moans. “Fuck, Red. This is too good.”
His encouraging words bring me close to that edge, my nails digging into his back as his speed increases until he pulses inside of me—filling me. He moans into my ear, and my whole body shutters as the wave of my orgasm rushes over me. It’s overpowering, flattening me and tearing me in half. The rush lasts longer than I’ve experienced before, and I cling to Jack until I reach the shore, my body relaxing under his.
Jack peppers kisses down my neck and over my breast, and I shutter, my skin suddenly sensitive. He lies next to me, nuzzling into the crook of my neck, his breath slow and heavy.
I lie still, the damn top sheet tangled around my legs, but the rest of me bare. Now that my body is back to its neutral state, I realize what we’ve done.
Jack’s chest rises and falls against me, and in a few short moments, I can tell he’s drifted off to sleep. No thoughts of the future or what this means swirl around his mind.
As for me, I can’t stop thinking. This wasn’t just a simple fuck. This is Jack. My Jack. And now there’s the whole supernatural that’s come into play. Although my body feels better than it has in a long time, my brain feels the opposite. I’m fucked—in all ways possible.
16
Mystery of Life
Sleeping through one of the worst storms to hit Dayton was bad enough. Trying to do so next to a naked beefy lumberjack of my childhood dreams made sleep a mythical treasure I couldn’t capture.
