“Don’t move,” he growls as his tongue slips between my lips and explores the depths that need him.
That clenching, the emptiness he spoke of earlier is back with a vengeance, but he swats my hand away when I reach for myself. He bites at me, nipping my swollen clit in punishment, but it only makes me ache for him more.
“Please,” I beg, unsure of exactly what I’m needing.
I need less.
I need more.
All of it.
None of it.
Everything and nothing at all.
“Ohhh,” I moan when the tightness in my core grips me into almost seizure-like need.
I felt only a shadow of this the day he pressed himself against me, rubbing his thickness over the exact spot he’s sucking on now, but today is going to be different. Today every muscle in my body is poised, waiting for release.
“Fuck,” he hisses, taking one long breath before he dives back in. “Give it to me.”
I implode, convulsing against his mouth so violently he has to increase his grip on my legs to maintain contact with my body. Nothing in the world has felt so good, and has hurt as much as this.
My mind blanks, my vision blurs, and when I look down at our connection, he’s smiling up at me with delight edged in wickedness.Chapter 30Briar
It isn’t until my eyes open that I realize the pounding that’s echoing around me is from the bass of music in the living room and not an actual throbbing in my head.
Aside from me, my bed is empty, cold without the warmth of Molly’s body.
The absence of light trickling in from the blinds is a sign that it’s nighttime, and waking up alone has never made me feel more isolated than it does right now.
I knew she was gone. She’d kissed my lips, licking her own when she got a taste of herself, before telling me she had to get back to her house before anyone noticed her gone. I’d watched her back as she quietly closed my door behind her, but it didn’t stop me from hoping she’d returned while I slept.
Knowing she won’t be far, I jump out of bed and hit the shower. The anticipation of seeing her is the only reason I’m able to wash her scent from my skin.
After pulling on the tightest pair of jeans I own and sliding my feet into my boots, I leave my room with my t-shirt in my hands. I’m pulling it over my damp hair when I round the corner into the common area of the clubhouse.
As usual, Molly is standing at one of the pub tables with several of the girls around her. An open, half-empty bottle of tequila is in front of them with nearly a dozen empty shot glasses.
Frowning at the display, I manage not to make eye contact with her on my way to the bar for a beer. Hiding what we have is the only way to stay safe, but it doesn’t keep her eyes off of me. I can feel them drilling into the back of my head when the new prospect hands me a bottle from the fridge.
“Gonna be a wild night.” He angles his head in the girls’ direction. “They started drinking over an hour ago, and they’re still going strong. I think Xena can out drink any man here. And Molly—”
“Doesn’t even exist in your tiny world, Prospect,” I spit in interruption.
“I just meant—”
My animalistic growl makes him stop short.
“Quit scaring him,” a playful voice says from beside me just as I feel a slender arm wrap around my waist. “Let me ease that tension.”
Without even flexing a single muscle in my torso, I turn my head and glare down at the familiar-looking brunette. If memory serves correctly, this is the chick that was sitting in my lap before we left for Richmond almost two weeks ago.
“Hey there.” Batting her eyes, she glances up at me.
“Don’t touch me.” My command is simple, but all she does is bite her lip and attempt to stick her already nearly exposed tits out further.
“Not what you were saying the first time we met.” The stench of alcohol on her breath makes my insides roil.
Molly’s eyes are still burning a hole in the back of my head, and I know she’s seconds away from grabbing this girl by her head and dragging her away. The sick possibility that she’d do worse is my second thought. Both her brothers and her dead father have a craving for death like none I’ve ever seen. Thinking that the gene skipped Molly would be foolish.
“How did you sneak in, honey?”
Turning my glare from the woman still touching me up to find Ronan closing in on us, I pray he reads me right.
“Out you go,” Ronan urges, physically having to pull her arms from around my body. Before he walks away, he looks back to me. “She was eighty-sixed last time. I swear. No clue how she managed to get in.”