Page List


Font:  

“Fighting and fucking, Beast. I figured we wouldn’t have a proper conversation until we’d managed one or the other—or both.”

He grimaces a little. “Pushy.”

“It’s been a week of this shit. I’m entitled to be pushy.” I sink to my knees between his thighs and hook my hands into the waistband of his shorts. “You want it rough.”

It wasn’t a question, but he’s already nodding. “I need it rough right now.”

I almost ask for his safe word, but this is less about boundary-crossing kink than about driving out the demons riding him. I know where Beast’s line is, just like he knows where mine is. There might be times when we dance on those lines, but tonight isn’t one of them.

Instead, I toss his shorts to the side and grab his arm. It’s easy to flip him onto his stomach because he’s already rolling with the motion and going onto his hands and knees. I smooth my hands down his scarred back and squeeze his ass. I spread lube over my cock and down his ass and then start to work my way slowly into him. No matter how rough he wants it, I want this good for him rather than another way to flog himself over the shit going on in his head right now.

I’m halfway into his ass when he drops his head between his shoulders. “Fuck.”

“This is what you need, isn’t it?” I grip his hip and sink another few inches. “A reminder of whose rings are on your finger right now.” Damn it, maybe I needed this, too. A year ago, when I asked Beast what would happen if his ex really was alive, I didn’t honestly believe it could be possible. Beast was so sure Cohen had died. He’d mourned him.

Now we find out the bastard has been alive this whole time.

I finally sheath myself completely and lean over his back to brace one hand on the other side of his. I kiss the back of his neck, his skin salty with his sweat, and set my teeth against him. “He can’t have you. Do you fucking hear me, Beast? You’re ours and he made his choices when he didn’t come to Carver City.” I start moving slowly, and then picking up pace when he moans. Each word punctuated by a thrust. “You. Are. Ours.”

“I know!” He bursts out. “Fuck, you think I don’t know that?”

I grab the lube and pause long enough to coat my palm. I reach around his hip and wrap my fist around his cock. “How would I know? You haven’t said a single fucking word.” I meant to hold off on this conversation until we were finished fucking, but we really do communicate better when we’re fucking. Twelve months hasn’t changed that.

“This cock.” I squeeze him roughly, earning another moan. “This ass.” A rough thrust. “Mine. Isabelle’s. Fucking say it.”

Beast shoves back against me. “I’m yours. Now fuck me properly.”

I pump slowly, timing the strokes of my hand to coincide. Teasing him. I didn’t realized how pissed I am about his withdrawal until this moment. “Do you know what it’s been like watching you retreat? Isabelle is about to lose her fucking mind, and I can’t comfort her because I’m not sure of you right now. I haven’t been since Lammas night.” Since Beast got a call from an old contact in Sabine Valley informing him that all seven of the Paine brothers are alive and well, including his ex.

Beast exhales slowly, like he’s fighting for control right along with me. “I love you and Isabelle, Gaeton. I chose you back in your apartment during that week, and I chose you again at the altar six months ago. Cohen being alive doesn’t change that.” He curses when I give his cock a few rough strokes. “I haven’t said anything, because I didn’t know how I felt. I mourned that fucker, and now I find out he’s been alive this entire time and never reached out? I’m pissed and I’m fucking hurt, but none of that means I want anything different than what I have.”

Relief makes me dizzy. In my heart of hearts, I knew he wasn't going to leave us, but the longer we went without talking about it, the more fear took root. I grab one of his hands and guide it to his cock. “Make yourself come while I fuck your ass.”

He doesn’t hesitate, stroking himself even more roughly than I had been. I lean back and grip his hips. He asked for a rough fucking, and apparently that’s exactly what we both need. I drive into him, cursing as how good this feels now that I can focus entirely on the pleasure without the fear lingering in the back of my mind.

Beast growls my name as he orgasms, and I let myself follow him over the edge, barely pulling out in time to come across his back. It feels like marking him as mine all over again, and the sight soothes something dark deep inside me. “Don’t move.”


Tags: Katee Robert Wicked Villains Erotic