Page 15 of Pack Kasen, Part 1 (Caught #1)

14

AREN

“ H arder, Wolf King.”

Icy pale blue eyes flecked with hazel plead up at me.

They beg.

My engorged head presses between her thighs, and I grab her hands, pin them over her head as I stare down at her.

“Again,” I order.

Her chin tilts, her back arches, and I rumble a groan at the delicious friction of her pebbled nipples rubbing against my chest.

“Harder,” she pants.

I swell, dipping my head to taste those luscious lips. Releasing her hands, I hook her knees open. As she spreads her legs wider, I swivel my hips.

Her eyes roll back. Her lips part on a ragged moan when I push inward, driving as deep as I can. Her slick warmth compresses me. It’s a home-coming. Right here is where I was always meant to be. She’s so lush. So fucking perfect my balls are drawing back, and I’m ready to come within seconds of being inside her.

I break the kiss. “Again.”

The challenge in her eyes shouldn’t surprise me. She likes to fight me. My wolf likes it too.

Her nails glide over my back, and a soft smile curls one corner of her lips before she drags her nails down. Hard .

I hiss, my hips slamming up into her.

And the answering moan that drifts from her lips is heaven to me and my wolf.

I need to fucking hear it again.

I pump into her, pulling out almost all the way, her body fighting to keep me inside, before I slide forward to open her up again.

Sweat beads over me. Over her. She's clinging to me. Her pussy. Her nails. It could not be any clearer that she needs more from me, and that only I can give it to her.

“Kitty cat,” I tease.

Her eyes flash. I swallow a smile. “I’m no cat.”

She tries to roll me.

I grab her wrists, pin them to the bed over her head, but I never stop thrusting. “Purr,” I whisper against her lips as I pick up the pace. “Purr only for me.”

Again, she tries to roll me.

Smiling, I grip both of her wrists with one hand, lift the top half of my body off hers, and stroke my hand between us, my fingers seeking to shatter her mind.

Her lips part and the breathiest, sexiest moan spills from her lips as my fingers dance over her swollen nub. Her body tightens around me, making my breath catch, and I feel her slick heat bathe my cock.

“So wet for me,” I groan.

As I pump and I stroke, I never stop searching her face, seeking the elusive place inside her that will make her fall apart.

She stops trying to get out from under me.

Her hips lift, breasts mashing against my chest, lips dueling with mine.

Her scent winds around me. Honeysuckle and fresh fall leaves, heady, sweet and intoxicating.

That incredible soft, rich chestnut hair my wolf wants to sniff. I want to fist it and hold her in place as I slam myself deep inside her.

Later …

Right now, it’s her mouth I want. She tastes like warm caramel, feels like silk, and moves with me like she was made for me.

Why does it feel like she is? Like nothing will ever be as good as this moment right here?

I break the kiss, pull my hand from her clit and hold her gaze as I suck each digit clean. “You make me want to feast, kitty cat. On you. Forever.”

Her breath catches.

I lean my forehead against hers as I batter my release back. Not yet. I’m not ready to end things yet.

We hold gazes as I pick up the pace, desperate hunger driving me to dig my knees into the bed, grip her hips and hold her still so I can bury myself to the hilt with each thrust.

She takes everything I have to give. Her body opens around me, strains around my girth and she pleads.

Begs.

“Harder, Wolf King.”

Those words break me.

They shatter me.

I’m so close, balls tight. Can’t hold my release back any longer. Sweat drips from my body, coating hers.

She’s trembling under me, cheeks flushing a delicate rose as her eyelids flutter shut.

She’s close.

So am I.

But I want her eyes. Need to see the expression in them when she falls.

“Kitty cat,” I growl.

Her eyes widen. “Please…”

I hammer into her, feel the exact moment she tightens around me, the almost painful pleasure of her squeeze as she orgasms around my cock. I harden, choke out a groan as she clamps impossibly tight around me.

My release is right there.

But as she falls, her head tips back, giving me the perfect line of her throat.

My fangs tingle, extending as I lick my lips.

My head descends. I lick the spot on her throat where I need her to wear my mark.

Need everyone to see and know she is mine.

I bite down and she screams.

My world shatters as I come with a roar.

And I peel my eyes open in a darkened room, on ruined sheets stinking of lust.

Alone.

The crystal-clear image of fucking the feral in this bed lingers. Of biting her. Of claiming her like I’ve wanted no other woman before.

The way a shifter will only ever claim his mate.

“ Fuck !”

I flop onto my back, chest heaving, rock hard and knowing it’s impossible to sleep now.

“Fuck.” I scrub my hand over my face, wiping away the sweat, but it does nothing to clear away the haunting images—the dreams—imprinted on my mind.

My wolf is antsy, irritated, frustrated. He growls at me to stop wasting time in this bed. To go downstairs, fling open the cage, pin the feral beneath us, bare her throat and?—

“ No ,” I snarl.

I get up, tossing the sheets off and not caring where they fall.

“The best sex I’ve ever had, and it was a dream with a fucking feral,” I mutter as I walk into the shower to get myself clean.

I’ll need to change the sheets now and open the window to air out the room before morning. Finan is observant at the best of times. He’ll notice the fresh sheets. But better he notice that than start asking questions about what I was dreaming about.

Finan already thinks I’m losing my mind over the feral. He hasn’t said it yet, but I know Finan. He is definitely thinking it.

But even in the shower, she torments me. I close my eyes, bend my head under the spray and I see her staring up at me, body pinned beneath mine as she pants, “Harder, Wolf King.”

My cock swells, throbs with the need to push aside her slender thighs and bury myself between them.

Five hard pumps of my fist around my cock briefly silences the ache. I switch the faucet to cold and when, five minutes later, I’m hard again, I switch the heat back on again.

I’ve come once in my sheets, again in the shower, and it doesn’t come close to being enough. I’m developing a terrifying fear that nothing I do will ever be enough. Not my fist. Not Marisa. Not any other women.

Just her.

This need to claim the feral feels serious.

I need to do something about the feral and I need to do it soon.

My wolf—and my body—is reacting as if she’s mine.

I shake my head.

That can’t be right. Only shifters have fated mates and the woman in that cage is no shifter.

I peel my eyes open and study the marble in front of me.

“She has to go,” I mutter. “She has to go before I do something I can’t undo.”

Like bite her and claim her in an unbreakable bond only ended by death.

I finish with my shower, quickly dry myself and spend the next several minutes stripping the sheets from my bed and changing them. Finan will notice, but he won’t ask. He’ll do that one eyebrow lift which I’ll pretend I don’t see.

Yawning, I switch off the light and slide under the cool sheets.

But the second I close my eyes, all I can see is her. The feral. Under me, how she felt climaxing around my cock.

I feel myself swelling in response.

I get up, leave my clothes behind, and walk out of my room. One glance at a clock reveals it’s nearly 3 a.m. The house is quiet, but not everyone is asleep. At least two enforcers take turns patrolling every night.

Outside, I embrace my wolf form and run to the creek.

I find a nice perch near the water, settle down with my head between my paws and tell myself to close my eyes and sleep.

But my gaze keeps straying to the cabin that stands on its own. The cabin where the feral sits behind a silver cage.

And even now, even knowing what she is, and that I cannot have her the way I suddenly want to, does nothing to silence the ache growing in my chest. And an emptiness I sense only she can fill.