Page 19 of Arranged Bullied Mate
“For a minute,” I answer, voice hoarse.
He nods once, serious. “We’ll stay as long as you need.” He shifts his weight, a ripple of muscle and ink. “But I want toask you something, and I want the truth.” His tone is so frank, so without preamble, that it’s almost funny.
“What?” I try to sound annoyed, but my voice cracks and betrays me.
He gives a small huff and looks past me, at the far shore. “Why did you come back, Ava? Really. If you hate the pack, if you hate me, why put yourself forward at the ceremony? What’s all this about?”
I freeze, well aware that he’s trying to read my expression. I try to muster a smile. “What else would I do? It was the only way back in for me. You know that.” I keep my eyes on the sky, letting the blue and the cold numb me.
Ronan shakes his head slowly, wading a bit closer, water lapping at his hips. “You could have gone somewhere else, started over.”
I shrug, arms hugging my chest. “I didn’t have any other options; this is my home.” My legs are starting to cramp from the cold, but I’d rather drown than let him see me shiver.
He studies me, frowning. “You’ve got a secret. I can smell it on you.” His words have a bit more bite in them now, and when I look up, I see his wolf in his eyes, hungry for the truth.
I laugh, but it rings hollow. “Maybe I just like being difficult.”
He doesn’t smile back. “You’re not difficult, Ava. You’re scared. You’re forgetting that I know you.” The words hang between us, pulsing with their own heat, and I curse him for saying it out loud.
“You used to know me,” I whisper, half to myself. Turning, I make a break for the shore, anything to get away from this conversation. Realistically, Ronan could easily catch me, butI sense him hanging back, watching me, and knowing I can’t get far.
It turns out the cold was more of a blessing than I realized, and the second it’s gone, the heat comes roaring back with a vengeance. The sand beneath my feet burns as I step out of the water, my skin prickles and screams, and for a moment, I think I’m about to combust. I stagger, vision tunneling, and I barely register the sound of Ronan calling my name before my knees buckle. The world fades to a hot, suffocating white, and the ground rushes up toward me.
I come to on the blanket, the rough material scratching my cheek. There’s a towel draped over my body, and Ronan is crouched next to me, his hand heavy on my shoulder as if to hold me down. The world is both too bright and too dark; my thoughts are muddled, and I’m not sure if I’m awake or dreaming.
“Stay still,” Ronan says. He’s close enough that his voice rumbles through my bones rather than my ears. “Just breathe. You fainted.”
Another wave of heat slams through me, and I moan, curling away from his touch. It’s too much, everything is too much. He grabs my wrist, not letting me move. “It’s the heat, getting out of the water too fast…and you’re upset. You just need to calm down.”
I groan as a wave of pure heat rolls through my body, causing my stomach to cramp with need. Again, I try to fight it, push it down. But it’s too late. Ronan rubs a frustrated hand over his face. “Dammit, Ava. I won’t take you out here,” he says through gritted teeth. But his words barely register as another wave hits, and I clutch the towel, twisting it in my fists. My skin is so sensitive, I want to crawl out of my own body. I twist awayfrom Ronan, but he’s there, his grip unyielding, and his alpha scent makes my vision swim again.
“Please,” I croak, and I don’t know if I’m begging him to stop or to help, but the word is so broken it doesn’t even sound like my voice.
He leans in, his palm cupping the back of my head, and for a second, I think he might try to force me to look at him. Instead, he presses his forehead to mine, his voice low and almost pained. “You need me to help you through it?” His breath is shaking, and the tremble in it is the first real crack I’ve heard in his armor.
A whimper breaks out of me, my hips grinding involuntarily into the blanket. “I hate this,” I gasp, but my body betrays me. I’m already arching toward him, thighs parted helplessly, even though the shame burns almost as deeply as the heat.
“You need me to take the edge off?” Ronan’s voice is rough, and my mind tries to scream no, but every cell in my body pleads yes, and my head lolls in a pathetic, desperate nod.
He shifts so that his knees push my legs apart and his hand slides up my thigh, palm hot and calloused, and the anticipation alone sends a fresh rush of slick down my legs. He sees it instantly, pausing to stare at the juices dripping onto the blanket beneath me, and for a moment, the hunger in his eyes makes my already-broken dignity catch fire.
He doesn’t hesitate, just parts my thighs further with both hands and pulls my sodden black briefs to one side, exposing me to the air. I gasp, writhing, but there’s no escape. The fever is so bad I can barely think, and when his fingers slip between my folds, I nearly convulse off the blanket.
“Goddess, look at you,” he mutters, tracing the slick with two fingers into my wet channel, then three, spreading me wide. It’s obscene, how easily I open for him, how my body pulses and clenches and pulls him in with each ragged breath. He rubs my clit with the heel of his hand as he grinds his fingers deep within me.
It’s not enough, nothing is enough. “More,” I sob.
His eyes snap up to mine, and for a second, I think I see something savage before he quickly buries it. He pushes in harder, his whole hand flattening against my slick cunt, the pressure so intense it borders on pain, but still isn’t enough. I arch, helpless, every muscle wound tight as he adds another finger, stretching me so wide that I sob with some relief. He holds me open, watching as my slick floods his hand.
“More?” he demands, voice barely more than a snarl.
I nod frantically, tears streaking my cheeks as the need in me grows to become a single burning ache. He pushes relentlessly, his knuckles stretching me, and I gasp, the heat spiking so sharply I nearly black out. His thumb finds my clit and circles it until my whole body locks up, every muscle rigid as the orgasm tears through me.
I cry out and he fucks me through it, not stopping as the spasms wrack my body, the pleasure so sharp I want to crawl out of my skin. I don’t even realize what’s happening until the second orgasm is upon me, and I scream out as the obscene sound of my slick escapes as a squirt of juices. Ronan pulls his cock free with his other hand and fists it with his fingers still lodged deep inside me. He pumps his cock in time with my spasms, his eyes glued to the way my body trembles and milks his fingers. I’m so far gone I don’t even register the change in his breathing until his cock jerks in his fist, and he spurts hotagainst my belly, the force of it so strong that some splatters my chin.
He lets his fingers slide out, and the tears stream down my face, but I don’t even know why I’m crying. Is it relief, humiliation, or the shameful craving for more?
He kneels over me, and for a moment we’re completely silent. Then he scoops me up like I weigh nothing at all and carries me back into the water to wash away everything that just happened between us.