Page 12 of Savage Desire (The Savage Six #2)
12
LINCOLN
S he stares at me, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she slowly pieces together the situation. I’m surprised it’s taking this long, to be honest. Although, a part of me wishes she wasn’t completing the puzzle at all.
Her lips purse before her jaw falls slack, and it’s like an alarm goes off above her head. There it is.
“He deserved it?” she repeats, pointing to the path that cunt took, and it takes everything in me not to beat him to a pulp again simply for being in her presence. “Did you do that?” she asks, eyes narrowed on me, and I shrug. “Lincoln.” My name is a warning on her tongue, and it stirs my cock.
Ignoring her disbelief, I tilt my head at her as my gaze runs over her body from head to toe and back again. “Don’t you think it’s strange that you still look like midnight to me even though your hair is pure silver?”
She shakes her head, immediately dismissing me as her hands slap down at her sides in frustration. “Lincoln, did you do that to him?” she repeats, but she’s not the only one that’s good at ignoring a conversation they don’t want to have.
Taking a step toward her, I catch the sharp intake of breath and the stiffening of her spine, but she doesn’t back away. “At first, I thought your hair was the sky, your face the moon, and your eyes the stars.” My words hang in the air for a brief moment as she gapes at me, and I take the opportunity to step closer again. Like a predator approaching their prey. Biding my time, I stuff my hands in my pockets, rocking back on my heels as I assess her. “But now, I think your hair shimmers like the moon, your eyes sparkle like the stars, and your soul is the darkness drenching us in night.”
The truth of my words cut deeper than I want, but if she sees it, she doesn’t acknowledge it.
“Are you listening to me? Did. You. Do. That. To. Him?”
Fuck.
She’s harder to distract than I expected.
I inch closer and closer, and it’s only when I’m a few feet away that she realizes I’ve got her in my sights and she starts to shuffle backwards. Step after step, she retreats. I follow, until her back hits the trunk of a large oak tree.
Her eyes widen, panic setting in as I eliminate the remaining space between us. Crowding her, I place a hand on either side of her head, leaning closer until we’re face to face.
“You’re not listening to me,” I breathe, and she pinches the bridge of her nose. Her eyelids fall closed, like my proximity isn’t driving her insane, like my body isn’t alive from her closeness. As if sensing the turmoil roaring inside of me, she drops her hand, leaning back so her head is against the bark of the tree as she meets my gaze.
“Go back to the girls you had draped all over you, Lincoln. I can’t do this with you right now.” Her tone is dejected. Like she’s done with me. Me? We’re done when I fucking say we are.
“Can’t do what?” I rasp, inching closer instead of giving her the space she’s asking for.
She sighs at me, exasperated as she waves a hand between us. “Whatever this is.”
“This?” I repeat, moving closer until we’re hip to hip, chest to chest, nose to nose. She’s all I can feel, all I can see, and all I can smell. I’m on the brink of feral, and reining it in is harder than I anticipate. “It’s nothing. We’re nothing,” I snarl, the bark of the tree biting into my palms as my nostrils flare.
She doesn’t falter under my thundering words and deathly stare, and I’ve seen grown-ass wolves cower at less. If anything, she stands taller, her eyes drilling into mine.
“Then leave.”
She says the words effortlessly, like I’m here by choice.
If I had a choice, I wouldn’t be anywhere near her.
Her eyes are wide, determination thick in her gaze as she waits for me to make the next move, but I’m frozen in place, torn between what I do and don’t want.
I knew I shouldn’t have fucked a virgin, but here I am, dealing with the consequences, they’re just nothing like I anticipated.
She’s not vying for my attention, it’s the other way around.
As if thinking it only cements the truth in my heart, I skim my nose against hers, edging closer until we’re staring deep into each other’s eyes, my mouth a wisp away from hers.
“I can’t.” My truth is a whisper. A secret. Even to myself. Her eyes search mine, desperate to reveal the lie intertwined in them, but it’s not possible, because there’s no fabrication. Not one.
She runs her tongue over her bottom lip as the weight of my words settles in, but now that I’ve admitted it, not just to myself, but to her, there’s no stopping me.
“I don’t want to think about you, but you’re in my mind at all fucking times.” Her tongue catches the corner of my lip as she sweeps it across her lips once more, and my hands ball into fists against the tree. “I don’t want to know you exist, then a murmur of someone else wanting what’s mine leaves me with busted knuckles and a ball of rage that still hasn’t quelled,” I admit, my nostrils flaring as the anger rears its ugly head to the surface. “But worst of all,” I murmur, dropping a hand to her chin to tilt her face back so I can hover over her, feeling the dominance I so desperately need. “I don’t want to remember what you felt like, but when another person touches me I can’t stand it.”
My heart races with every word, my truth bare for her to see. Her gaze searches mine once again, but she comes up as empty as she did the first time. I’m not lying. I wish my words were fiction, but they’re far from it and I can’t stand it.
“That didn’t look like you were struggling to me,” she says, finally breaking her silence, and I blink at her.
That’s all she has to say?
Fuck.
“I hate you,” I breathe, wanting to hurt her as much as she hurts me.
“Why?” Her eyes penetrate mine, curiosity swirling in her pupils. I can sense her heart rate thundering in her chest, but it’s not with fear. Is it…? Fuck if I know.
“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” I grunt, my chest heaving with every breath.
“Then leave.” She echoes the same words again, and I feel my emotions well to the surface, prickling under my skin as I struggle to contain the rage boiling inside of me. It’s not aimed at her, though. No. The burning hatred I feel coursing through every fiber of my being is targeted at myself.
“I’ll leave when I’m ready to leave,” I bite, my grip on her chin tightening, but she doesn’t flinch.
“Go, Lincoln,” she states, her voice firm as she presses her hands against my chest, trying to nudge me back a step, but it’s futile and we both know it.
“I’m good where I am.”
Her eyebrows furrow, concern dancing in her eyes, but still no fear or panic. “Are you drunk?”
The question catches me off guard. I’ve had a few beers, desperate to get her out of my mind, but it’s only made it worse. Shaking my head, my lips part, and words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them.
“Only on you.”
The flutter of her heartbeat is overwhelming. “Linc?—”
I crash my mouth to hers, too desperate to taste her before she has the chance to discard me.
Her lips freeze, parted for a moment, and I feel the tremble through her body as she stands torn, unsure whether to react at all, but as I tilt her head farther back, deepening the kiss, she sighs against my mouth. Her lips finally begin to move, melting against mine as I sweep my tongue over the seam of her mouth, but she doesn’t let me in.
No.
She pushes back, battling me for control as her fingers curl into my t-shirt, attempting to gain the upper hand as my hold on her chin softens, my fingers curling across her cheek as I plaster myself against her.
My pulse pounds in my head as I drink her in, lost to the needs of my body as she claws at me and I paw at her.
Tearing my lips from hers, I rear my head back enough to stare at her. I run my fingers down her throat, feeling the flicker of her pulse that runs in time with my own before skimming my fingertips over the neckline of her tank top. I want to shred the material that shields her tits from my view, but the idea of someone else seeing what’s mine holds me back, and instead, I trail my hands over the swell of her breasts and skim my fingers beneath the waistline of her denim shorts.
Circling my thumb over the metal button, I watch as her chest heaves with every breath, the rhythm matching my own short inhales as my gaze settles on hers.
“Is it true?” she breathes, and I cock my head at her, confusion pausing my thoughts, but before I can ask what she means, she proceeds, clearly sensing my wonder. “I read about wolves today. That they have heightened senses.” Her words are jagged, like her mind is as jumbled as mine, but I understand what she’s circling around.
I run my free hand up her arm, feeling the goosebumps that rise in my wake as I nod. “I can hear your heartbeat and your pulse ricochet through your body. I can feel the tingles that shoot through your veins and leave chills across your flesh. But best of all, I can smell your desire, the sweet honey scent that you coated me in at the park. It’s everywhere. I know without a shadow of a doubt that if I slipped my hand into your panties, I’d find you drenched.”
She hiccups as she gasps, jaw slack as she stares deep into my soul.
I grin, allowing myself to accept the knowledge that her body is responding to mine despite the hatred that runs through my veins.
Putting my theory to the test, I unbutton her shorts and tug at the zipper, letting the sound bite through the night air. She doesn’t stop me, just as I expect, and when I sweep the cotton of her panties to one side, I find her heat and the pool of desire I predicted.
I run my fingers through her folds, delighting in the way her head falls back and a soft whimper parts her lips. The second I retrieve my hand, she pouts, looking at me through half-mast lids, but they quickly blow open wide as she watches me bring her nectar to my lips. I hum around my fingers, sensing her muscles clench as her breaths fall faster.
“And I can taste just how devilishly sweet you are,” I rasp as I grab her waist and spin her on the spot.
She manages to brace her hands on the tree before she falls head first into it as I let her shorts pool at her feet. Her panties remain a barrier between us, and I’m done with the inconvenience. Tugging at the flimsy material, they tear with ease and I stuff the remnants in my pocket before swooping my palms over the globes of her ass.
Fuck.
She peers back at me, gaze haunted as she arches her back and opens herself up to me. “You’re going to hurt me,” she breathes, the words little more than a whisper as she frowns, but she doesn’t hide herself from me.
Unzipping my jeans, I finally ease the tension bound tight around my cock as I blindly search for the condom in my back pocket.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you like my kind of rough,” I grunt, and she shakes her head.
“That’s not what I mean.”
I pause, understanding drowning me as I discard the wrapper and roll the latex over my cock. Lining myself up at her entrance, I lift my gaze to hers. “Join the crew, Midnight.”
Slamming inside of her is both torture and bliss.
“Fuck,” I grunt in time with her cries of pleasure.
She’s so fucking tight. Her pussy clenches around my cock with purpose, desperate to milk every ounce of me. Her fingers bite into the tree, her knuckles white as she acclimates to my size, and despite the need to ram myself into her again and again, I refrain, offering her a single moment to adjust.
The second her head bows, I retreat, slamming back inside of her with more force this time, and to my surprise, I feel her hips move, meeting me half-way.
Holy fuck.
“That’s it, Midnight. Take me. Take my fucking cock like a good girl. Paint me with your ecstasy, just like you stained me with your blood,” I growl, curling one hand into her hair while the other bites into the flesh at her waist.
She whimpers and groans, rolling her hips in time with my thrusts, and I can’t help but envision her spread out on my bed, naked from head to toe with her tits swaying from the movement.
“Lincoln,” she pleads, her pussy wrapping like a vice around my cock as I thrust into her again and again and again.
We’re charging toward the cliff, barreling toward the edge without care as we chase the intoxication that intertwines us.
“I still hate you,” I snarl, my thrusts becoming harsher as I sense the tingling of my need burning at my spine. “I’m just fucking you out of my system,” I warn, my entire body alight with heat as I tug tighter at her hair.
“Good,” she snaps breathlessly before an almighty cry of euphoria parts her lips.
She jumps from the ledge and all I can do is dive after her. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me, every ripple from my cock causing another spasm of her pussy, and we’re locked in a riptide, swirling in ecstasy for what feels like an eternity.
Blinking my eyes open, my brows furrow as I try to recall when I closed them, but as the world comes back into view, disappointment with myself takes hold.
I gave in to my desire.
I gave in to her.
Fuck.
Unraveling my hand from her hair, I release my hold on her waist, slowly slipping from her core, staring down at the remnants of my orgasm that fills the condom.
A flash of a thought from my wolf chokes me, and before I can think better of it, I tuck myself in my pants and run.
I run, acutely aware of the foolishness of leaving her there in the woods alone, but the alternative… that’s the unthinkable. It shouldn’t be in my thoughts, but it’s there.
I don’t stop until I’m home, safely within the confines of the wolf dorms, condom still in hand as I hurry into the bathroom. Forgotten is the fact my pack will need me soon, that a run is necessary on the night of a full moon. Gone is any thought of responsibility as regret burns bright in my eyes as I stare at myself, but as each second ticks past, I’m acutely aware it’s not because I left without a word, but because I left without coming inside of her.