Page 130 of The Rut in the Road

“Fuck!” he gasped out, his thrusts becoming erratic. “Oh,fuck, Rayn.”

Pain rippled like lightning as I felt the nails, so smoothly filed, turn to claws and bite into my skin, making my cock throb.

I gasped, trapped between needing more friction and wanting to push back into Raj’s hips.

He solved the problem for me, slamming his body into mine so hard I nearly saw stars, my hips and weeping cock pushed into the fabric of the mattress and giving me the friction I so desperately needed. I writhed, gasping and panting, managing to form the words “Yes, Raj, yes!” as he did it again and again.

And then my orgasm ripped through me, and I cried out again, but the sound was all but drowned out as he snarled behind me, pumping his hips as he came, before half-collapsing over my back.

I let my body go limp beneath his warm weight, not caring about the fact that I was lying in my own cum. I liked the feeling of his body pressing mine into the mattress, the feeling of hisbreath on the back of my neck and the soft thump of his heart beating against my skin.

I felt him draw in a deep breath, then press a gentle kiss to the back of my neck.

He pushed himself up, and I heard him suck in a sharp breath. “Oh, Rayn…”

I turned my head to look at him, opening the eye that wasn’t pressed into the mattress. “What?” I asked before I’d gotten a chance to see the horror on his face.

I pushed myself up with my one good arm. “What’s wrong?” I asked him, alarmed.

He winced, sliding off the bed. “Rayn,” he said again, and he sounded… I wasn’t sure—worried? Upset? Sad? “I’m so sorry.”

I moved to slide off the bed and felt the sting of the scratches on my hips, then looked down and noticed the blood on the bedding.

“Oh,” I said, feeling foolish for not realizing what was happening. He’d done more than just break a tiny pinprick of skin with his claws, and there was blood beading across a few scratches along each thigh.

The scratches were deeper this time—not to the point where he’d done any permanent damage, not any more than a large cat might. A very large cat.

I looked over at him, and worry hit me. His chest was heaving, eyes too wide, hands balled into fists at his sides. “Raj,” I said, slow and soothing. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” he whispered.

“I am,” I agreed. “But they’re not bad.”

He held up his hands, staring at them. They shook.

I stood up and walked over, taking his hands in mine. He jerked when I did, but he let me hold onto them, probably afraid to cause any more harm to my injured arm. “Raj, I’m okay,” I told him. “They’re shallow, they’ll heal, and, honestly, I’m goingto want you to do it again, so I need you to stop freaking out about it.”

He blinked at me. “You’re… what?”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “We’ve talked about this before,” I reminded him.

“They weren’t this bad before,” he countered, immediately, his cheeks flushing dark.

I sighed. “They’re notbadnow,” I retorted.

He reached out, then hesitated.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I snapped. It was a phrase Ward used when particularly exasperated, and I was exasperated.

Raj looked startled. “You never swear,” he said softly.

I just stared at him. When he didn’t get it, I said, “I just told you to fuck me, at least twice,” I said.

He turned away from me, then back. “That—that’s different.”

“Why?”

“You—not that I care, but you don’t swear in anger.”