This thought allows me to give up my control, to wrap my arms around his shoulders and relax – to feel. I moan against his neck, giving in to the desire to lick him, to draw his masculine taste into my mouth. I like it so much that I wiggle a little closer and go in for more, running my lips and tongue from his ear down his neck to his shoulder where I sink my teeth in and bite down.
He groans and clutches me even harder, making my pussy spasm around him. A few more strokes and I’m right on the edge, ready to come for him, ready to come on the man who has dictated so many years of my life.
The coiled tension gives way in an explosion of pleasure as an orgasm rips through me. His fingers dig hard into my hips and ass as he continues to use my body to stroke himself to his own edge. Seconds later he follows me over, tipping his head back far enough that I have complete access to his throat as he comes. I sink my teeth in hard enough to draw blood as he shoots hot spurts of semen deep into my body.
He shouts again and brings his hand up to cup the back of my head. I think he's going to yank me away from his flesh. Instead, he pushes me closer, pushing my teeth even deeper into his skin. If he doesn't stop, I'm going to scar him. He doesn't seem to care though and the moment goes on and on. Me biting him, while our bodies explode in unison, waves of pleasure washing over me and on to him, then back again.
Hearts thundering, he finally lets go of my head and I'm able to detach myself from his throat. I lean back just enough to stare at his face in bewilderment. My own face must reflect an expression of utter shock. I can't believe we just did that. I can't believe we fell through the floor of the hotel and then fucked it out.
I would laugh and make a joke, but the expression on Wolfe’s face stops me. Stops me completely. He's gazing at me with a combination of utter devotion, fierce protectiveness and… love.
Twenty-Nine
Wolfe
She scrambles away from me as though the bats of hell are after her, leaping to her feet and staring at me accusingly, breaking the moment.
I'm not surprised and I'm not hurt by her reaction. I knew that Skye would take time to come around, that it would be a long road to our union. I'm surprised that we've made it this far so quickly. It’s been just under two months since her arrival in Sanctuary and we’ve made more progress than I thought possible.
"Where are my pants?" she says, almost to herself as she searches for them on the floor.
I reach for them and hand them over. She snatches them from me and hisses, "Don't touch me."
I don't say anything. I'll give her time to calm down and sort this new development out in her head. She'll have to come around to my way of thinking, but I'm willing to give her some time to do that. Now that we’ve established intimacy between us, I have no intention of allowing our relationship to slide back into a safe zone for her. She'll have to suck it up and learn to live with me as a constant in her life.
I push myself up and stretch, arms over my head, muscles crackling. My body feels incredible, energized, sated. I feel like I can take on anything. Now would be a good time for a horde of Primitives to show up. But first, we have to figure out how to get out of this basement.
I'm about to suggest that we start searching in the darkness for another exit, when one of the men shouts down to us. "Everything okay? We heard screaming."
"If this is your response time to Skye’s screams, then we’ll be discussing your ability to protect her." I gaze steadily up at the face of Kingston as he peeks over the edge.
"Put your fucking dick back in your pants," Skye hisses at me, low enough that only I can hear.
I shrug and tuck myself away, relacing the leather and straightening my shirt. I double check that all of my weapons are still strapped on. Skye does the same while Kingston fetches a rope.
Skye doesn't have the upper body strength to climb out herself, so I help her up onto the rope and hold her steady from the bottom as Kingston pulls. She reaches out with one hand to grip the edge of the gaping hole which crumbles under her fingertips. She loses her grip and nearly lets go of the rope as she swings wildly.
"Grab the beam, not the rotting boards," I growl up at her.
"This isn't as easy as it looks!" she yells back.
My lips twist in a smirk. Feisty as always, even after falling through the floor of the hotel and getting thoroughly fucked by a man she professes to hate.
When my turn comes, I climb the rope with some help from Kingston, who groans in protest as he’s forced to bear my weight. I reach for a loadbearing beam, now exposed from our fall through the floor, and drag myself through the hole. I sit on the edge and glance around, making sure Skye is nearby.
She’s standing behind Kingston, holding onto the rope. She must've helped him haul me back up. She can't despise me that much. When she realizes what I'm thinking, she drops the rope as though it's scorching hot and steps back, her eyes narrowing on my face. She opens her mouth to say something scathing but a shout from outside draws our attention.
"Incoming!"
All three of us are experienced soldiers and our weapons are out within seconds. "Kingston, you and I will take posts by the door. Skye, you stand back and take out any that make it past us."
Skye pouts. "You aren’t going to leave any for me though."
"Just do it," I growl at her.
Her bloodthirstiness might be a turn on, but I need her to listen in moments of potential emergency. Without another word, she falls back, assuming a battle position. Legs spread and braced, one slightly in front of the other so she can launch herself into an attack if need be. Her gun hand is up, protecting her chest, while her knife hand stays low. Her eyes are trained on the door. Pride fills me as I look at her. I taught this woman everything she knows about fighting Primitives and it's clear that she took my advice to heart.
Kingston and I take position on either side of the main door, which is cracked open just enough for me to see into the street. Our people are battling a horde of primitives 20 to 30 strong. So far as I can tell there are no losses on our side, but my men are good fighters and know how to keep their heads down while taking out the enemy.
One of my men leaps onto the hotel steps as a group of five Primitives circle him, pushing him back. He lets out a savage growl and shoots the nearest one in the head. A spray of blood arcs over top of him and splatters across the door. He throws himself into the attack, picking up a screaming, writhing Primitive and throwing it at two of others, shoving them back into the street and then following them. He did his job, luring them to the hotel.
I let out a whistle, drawing the attention of the three who had fallen on their dead comrade, tearing at his flesh with their teeth. A disgusting practice that I can't understand. They don't attack and eat each other while they’re alive, but the second one of them expires, it becomes fresh meat.
At my whistle a female’s head whips around, her dirty black hair flying around her face and slapping her thin cheek, which is pierced through with nails. She lurches to her feet and lunges at us. I make it easy for her. I kick the door wide open and allow her to hurl herself inside.
"Take her alive," I shout to Kingston.
The female is small. Though she looks feisty, a common characteristic of Primitives, she won't be able to put up the strength of an adult male zombie.