Before he can pull away again, before he can walk away, I lean in and kiss him. He needs to know I’m here. I’m right here with him, and no amount of pacing or cursing or punching the wall will change that.
He doesn’t really kiss me back. His lips are hard, his entire body vibrating with tension and emotion. In response, I lean against his chest and let my lips melt against his to counteract his hardness with my softness.
When he finally reacts, it happens so suddenly that it takes me by surprise.
With a deep growl, he grabs my arms and yanks me onto my tiptoes, his kiss turning to fire. He whirls me around and shoves me against the wall next to the hole, deepening the kiss. His kiss is blazing hot and hungry, and within moments it’s so rough and wild I’ve forgotten everything except the feel of his body pressed against mine. This isn’t Ridge—not how he usually is, anyway. It’s as if his grief has made him out of control, nearly violent, just like the storm raging inside him.
But I don’t try to tame the storm. I don’t try to hide from it. Instead, I meet it head on.
My arms wrap around his neck, and I kiss him back as fiercely as he’s kissing me, arching against him to press our chests close together. My hands slide into the thick, dark strands of his hair as my heart beats out an erratic rhythm behind my ribs.
He groans into my mouth, his large body caging me against the wall as he slides his hands over the dip of my waist and the swell of my hips. He moves them around to palm my ass, gripping me tight and hauling my lower body against his so that we’re touching from head to toe.
One of his thighs slides between my legs, and when he drags me toward him again, my clit grinds over the steely muscles.
I gasp into his mouth as sensation shoots through me, and he makes a sound I’ve never heard before in response. It’s almost a growl, but it comes from someplace so deep inside him that it might as well be a piece of his soul pouring from his lips. He works my clit against his leg again, his kisses becoming even more deep and forceful, his tongue invading my mouth hungrily.
When I fist his hair at the roots, trying to anchor myself amid the torrent of sensations, he finally tears his lips away from mine.
“Fuck. I can’t be gentle right now, little wolf,” he grunts. “I can’t—”
“I don’t care.” I cut him off, shaking my head as my chest rises and falls quickly. It feels like I might never catch my breath. “I don’t need you to be gentle.” My hands move around to cup his face, cradling his strong jaw and feeling the muscles pulse beneath my palms. “I just need you to stay with me. Right here with me. Let me be here for you. Please. I love you, Ridge.”
Something shifts in his honey eyes. The dark shadows in them lift momentarily, leaving just the breathtaking golden color, as if the sun has broken through the clouds on an overcast day. He gazes at me for a second, breathing just as hard as I am.
Then, in one smooth movement, he lifts me off my feet. His hands grip my thighs with almost bruising force as he carries me to the bedroom.
19
Sable
Ridge kicks the half-open door with his foot, barely even breaking stride as we enter the bedroom.
He deposits me on the bed and is on me immediately, never letting our bodies separate as his lips claim mine over and over with kisses that make my pulse race. He’s devouring me with an entirely new kind of hunger, something I’ve never felt from him before, not even the first time he claimed me.
It’s like he’s falling from a great height, plummeting through empty space, and the connection between us is the only tether that can save him. The only thing that can keep him from breaking when he hits the ground.
Our clothes are gone almost as if they vanished into thin air, torn off and thrown to the side of the bed so quickly I might as well have used magic to do it. The second we’re both naked, Ridge settles his large frame between my legs, tension radiating from him as if he resents the few seconds we had to be apart.
As if they caused him physical pain.
He grunts inarticulate words as he kisses me, the sounds muffled as our lips and teeth and tongues clash. We’re both panting as he wrenches his mouth away from mine, trailing his hot, hungry lips down the column of my throat, across my collar bones, and over the swells of my breasts. His large hands knead and massage my breasts, pressing them together so he can draw one nipple into his mouth and then the other, lapping and sucking at them until zings of almost painful pleasure shoot through me.
He moves lower still, traveling down my body and covering every inch of my exposed skin with kisses, licks, and bites. My nerve endings are all on fire, sending signals to my brain so fast that I can’t even process all of them. I squirm
on the mattress as he settles his broad shoulders between my legs and spreads my thighs with the same hard, demanding grip he had when he picked me up earlier.
He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t tease me or start slow. He just buries his face between my legs and devours me.
My thighs clench as sensation barrels through me, and he renews his hold on them, keeping them pressed wide open as his tongue moves over me, warm and wet and insatiable.
I can’t move.
I don’t want to.
All I can do is clutch at the blankets and arch my back, giving up the fight to control the feelings surging through me. I just let them come, wave after wave as Ridge eats me out with no mercy.
When I come on his face, wetness gushes from me, spilling down over my inner thighs and soaking the bottom half of his face. I can feel my cheeks flaming, but it’s not from embarrassment. It’s from the fire that seems to be raging inside me, unquenched even by the force of my orgasm.