Page 61 of Wild Games
“Perfect?” She gazes up at me, and my brain whites out for a second. The concrete has to be hard on her knees,uncomfortable, but she settles there like she has all the time in the world. “I think it is.”
My wolf slams against my internal barriers, desperate to break free. The chains groan under the strain as every muscle in my body locks tight. Metal protests, links stretching dangerously close to failure.
I could snap them. I could be free in seconds. And the keys are right there, but I don’t need them. A few ferocious pulls from my wolf, as determined as he is, and these chains would give way.
But if I get loose, I’ll mark her. My wolf will take over completely and sink his teeth into that elegant neck before either of us can even think twice about it. The need is already overwhelming, consuming every rational thought.
“Camille, you’re playing with fire...” The words come out strangled as she looks up at me through her lashes, an angel in my hellhole of a room. The dim light catches her eyes, making them glow with intent, and I know she won’t be dissuaded.
“Maybe that’s exactly what I want to do.” Her hands slide up my thighs, starting at my knees, and move higher with deliberate slowness. “I didn’t join the enforcers because I’m someone who likes to play it safe.”
Her nails drag lightly over the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, and my hips jerk forward involuntarily. The chains pull taut with a metallic shriek.
“I don’t want a boring life, Jax.” Higher still, until her hands frame my hips, thumbs tracing the cut of muscle there. “And you’re worth taking a risk on.”
I blink at her. Nobody has ever taken a chance on me. They’ve only shielded me, let me do jobs that keep me out of trouble and won’t ignite the spark of unpredictability that lives within me.
And here’s my brave little mate, fanning the flames.
“You don’t know what you’re doing to me.” My voice is pure gravel, barely human. “My wolf wants... I want… he’ll get free.”
Shrugging, looking remarkably unconcerned, she strokes her heated palms over my taut thighs and arches her back, her breasts looking full and good enough to eat from my vantage point.
“I know exactly what I’m doing.” She leans closer, her breath ghosting over sensitive skin.
Tugging hard, reaching for her, I forget I can’t move. The sting of silver against my wrists snaps me back to reality, and the torture she’s inflicting on me.
“And I know what you want. The same thing I want.”
The first touch of her mouth short-circuits every thought. My head slams back against the stone wall, hard, but I barely feel it. All that exists is wet heat and the sweet torture of her tongue exploring, learning what makes me gasp, what makes the chains rattle.
My hands strain against the shackles, desperate to thread through her hair, to guide her, to touch her in any way.
Metal bites deeper into my already torn wrists, and I feel drips of fresh blood running down my arms, but I don’t care. The pain is nothing compared to the need clawing through me.
“Fuck.” The curse tears from my throat as she takes me deeper, confidence growing with each passing second. When she slides her hands between her thighs, releasing a breathy moan as she touches her still glistening pussy, I feel like I’m about to burst.
My wolf is going insane, throwing himself against the walls of my mind with increasing violence.
Free us,he demands, over and over, like a mantra.Touch her. Claim her. Mark what’s ours.
I fight him with everything I have, even as my body betrays me. My hips buck forward, seeking more of her perfect heat.
She doesn’t pull away, just hums her approval, showing me the pleasure she’s getting from driving me wild like this, and from her own hand.
The vibration nearly ends me right here. My hands clench into fists above the shackles, nails digging into my palms hard enough to draw more blood, as I watch her, eyelids heavy with desire.
The scent of her arousal fills the small room, and I drag in big lungfuls of it, like an addict getting his fix.
“Come closer... let me touch you.” The words come out broken and desperate. “Please. I need to...”
If this wasn’t the most fucked up erotic experience of my life, I’d be ashamed of begging like this, but I’m so lost to her, I don’t care.
She pulls back just enough to speak, her lips swollen and wet. The sight alone makes me groan, the urge to pull her to me, to kiss those lips before sliding my cock back between them, is visceral.
My desire for her burns like a fire in my veins, stoked even higher when she tuts at me.
“This isn’t about what you need.”