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Prickles of pleasure break over my buzzing skin. The empty pulse in my pussy pulls tauter and throbs. My hips writhe, trying to find friction in front of me or under me to relieve that damn, insistent ache.
“Shhh,” he murmurs again, bending his head over my shoulder. “Shhh, sweet baby.”
I know I must be delirious when I hear him say something that sounds like a pet name. Before I can think about it more, his lips graze the side of my throat.
And whatever thin string was doing a shitty job of tethering me to this earth?
Snaps.
chapter
sixteen
The alpha behind me feels familiar—and that’s all wrong.
It has to be, right? How could he be familiar? I don’t know any alphas like this.
Not one who would rub his fingers along the insides of my arms while he bends to brush his mouth over my pulse. Not one who would groan softly against my skin or shudder when he tastes me.
Then, I feel his lips graze the burning ache in my throat.
His bite, some quiet, foggy part of me prompts. He has to?—
Oh, but he knows what to do. The soft warmth of his upper lip skims the very outside of the tingling teeth marks, sweeping over them in a soothing brush. When I whimper, he hums another deep moan.
The sound straightens my spine, pressing my head back against something solid and broad that smells like…
Him.
His shoulder. It cradles my skull while my chest thrusts forward on a pant. One of his hands slides up from my arm to thread into my loose hair, tilting my head so he can lick me.
Oh. My. God.
Hot wetness slides over my thin skin, slowly dipping into each of the burning grooves his teeth left behind. My breath snags in my lungs as cold shivers race down my back and heat slips from my core.
I feel dizzy and depraved as my heartbeat pounds between my thighs, pouring more slick out of my pussy while I squirm. Needing, needing?—
“Alpha!”
The sharp cry has a jagged edge. There are more noises around me. Growls, shuffling.
“He isn’t hurting her,” someone clips. “But bonding bites are touch-sensitive. Every time Tris touches it, she’ll feel…”
“Horny?” someone else guesses.
The serious voice replies, succinct and entirely correct, “Desperate.”
As if it’s agreeing with him, my body gushes more slick and perfume. Muffled curses blend with the serrated groan vibrating against my neck.
The fullness of the alpha’s lower lip begins rubbing at the other edge of his mark, gently grazing the indentations with slippery warmth and summer-scented breath.
My nipples peak into hard, stinging points, poking at whatever terrible material is covering them. I try to reach up and touch, but I have no coordination. My palms slap at the rubbery fabric until another whine rips from my throat.
“Shhh,” the low growl behind me rumbles. “Shhh, sweet one.”
Large hands slip into whatever material’s wrapped around me and engulf my breasts easily, their long fingers rolling my nipples into tingling points. Stars dance behind my eyelids, flashing in flares of light every time he pinches the sensitive tips and strokes them with his thumbs.
The haze feels thicker with every jolt of pleasure that streaks from my tits to the steady thump between my thighs. Another sound—high-pitched as the chilling screech of nails on glass—fills the room. It’s so jarring, a spike of panic impales my chest… which somehow makes the terrible noise even worse.
