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I grasp his shoulders and hair, not gently, and pull him up to me. It’s either come or have the delicate strands pull out of his scalp.
Gray’s eyes shine with something new, something astounded, as he stares down at me. Yes, this sweet little thing that he thought he knew has claws. She can be an animal for him, a dirty girl, an angel turned into a demon.
I shudder brutally as he takes his cock in his hand and positions himself between my legs. I lift them, wrapping them hard around his hips. His muscles tremor and quiver, his swirling tattoos on his arms and chest jumping and rearing to life.
He stops when he notches the head of his cock against my soaked entrance. I don’t feel a second of fear or doubt, just horrible, burning longing. I know it’s going to hurt. I’m so much smaller. It’s my first time.
“I meant it when I said I want you. It’s okay. I’ll be okay. Please.”
“Fuck.” He grinds his teeth together so hard his jaw cracks above me.
I flex my heels into his ass. He has such a beautiful one. He got the club’s bowing headstone angel tattooed on his back when he patched in, with ‘Property of Satan’s Angels MC’ above it, but there’s no ink lower to mar his perfect ass.I want to trace that unmarked flesh with my hands and tongue until his golden skin is tattooed by me.
“Do it. Please. Now. Fill me, Gray. Make me yours.”
I want to watch him shatter me, but the instant I feel him push inside, I close my eyes and lift my hips, trying to get closer. I’m so annoyingly petite.”
“Look at me, Lark.”
My eyes tear open at the hard command. I stare right into Gray’s face as he pushes inside of me. It does hurt a little, but I wriggle against him so he won’t stop.Shivers of delicious pleasure fill up the empty longing that was etched into my muscles for years.
I claw at Gray’s back, but I don’t let my nails truly sink in. He arches up, his corded arms holding himself above me, separating us just enough that I can watch as he sinks inside of me all the way.He goes so, so slow, taking his time with me, creating a pleasureful madness that makes me cry out.
He fucks me in long slow thrusts. Nothing compares to the feeling I get when I look back up at Gray’s face and see him lost in wonder of us. Gray, this strong and impossible and untouchable man.
He’s impenetrable and powerful above me, but he’s no longer impossible. He’s still a dream, but he’s mine. Notuntouchable.
His thrusts undo me. He works me towards a climax that is going to be nothing like anything I’ve ever given myself. I grind into him, meeting every hard stroke with a feverish one of my own. He bottoms out inside of me, pushing my limits, and it makes me feral. I dig my nails into his shoulder and bite at his mouth, devouring him until I’m slick and panting, my skin soaking wet and clinging to his sheets.
The pleasure is so intense, and then Gray runs his thumb along my pulse point, pressing it to the rapid beat. One more thrust so hard that it truly feels like he’s writing his name on the inside of my walls, and I shatter. Every single piece of my body flies apart. The pleasure isn’t really pleasure at all. It’s an exquisite torture. Gray is fully in control of giving it to me, of taking me to the brink as soon as the pleasure starts to ebb, of thrusting me into that abyss all over again.
“Fuck… fuck. Lark.” Gray grits the words, my name, and then his huge body stills, and warmth floods me.
I’m so hot and wet where we’re connected. Gray never really stops. His cock keeps thrusting inside me, almost lazily, still hard. The whole room smells like the salty, musky tang of sex.
I’m a mess when I come back down. An aching, soaking, sticky, hot mess. Gray’s mess.
The feral intensity in his eyes screams it.Mine.
His.
His, my dream, my man, my beast, and my soft and tender soul. His, if only the world will allow it. His, because he’ll make it so.
Chapter 5
Tyrant
Five Years Later
Aferal beast claws my brain, slashing through nerves and tissue, begging to be free. If only I could split my own head in half to let it out. I blink into my room, trying to focus on the bookshelf on the opposite wall. I’m meticulous about my books, the titles all lined up and sorted. A haze blurs my vision, doubling it up. My stomach twists its way into my throat.
I try to get vertical, but just that small movement brings bile racing up my throat.
I grab the trash can from the side of the bed before vomit erupts in painful heaves. I was fine this morning. The migraine came on without warning. They’ve been getting worse to the point they incapacitate me. I’m just lucky that I didn’t have club business this afternoon. It’s a nice fucking day and the place is pretty much deserted.
The beast isn’t done with me. My stomach keeps heaving over and over, until nothing’s left but strings of saliva.
“Jesus Christ, Ty. What the fuck?”
