Page 48 of Pistols & Peonies

The elevator jerks to a halt, lights flickering for half a second before settling back into their ugly white glare. For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. We just stare each other down, chests heaving, the tension between us buzzing with electricity.

“What was that you said before about restraint?” Violet taunts, tilting her head. “Thought you were always in control, Kane.”

“I am,” I growl.

The corner of her mouth ticks up in a smirk. “Prove it.”

I’m on her instantly, closing the space between in a single step. I grab her by the wrists, pinning her against the wall so hard the air leaves her lungs in a single, sharp gasp. She doesn’t struggle. Doesn’t even flinch. Just hooks her legs around my hips, pulling me in and crashing her mouth to mine.

It’s not a kiss. It’s a goddamn brawl.

Teeth and tongues collide with bruising force, our mouths locked in a fight to the death. She bites me hard enough to draw blood, and I retaliate by biting her right back, digging my teeth into the soft cushion of her lower lip. She moans into my mouth, nails raking down my back, and that sound shreds whatever self-control I had left.

My hands fist the fabric of her battered band tee, ripping it clean off her body. A laugh vibrates in her chest, our kiss turning more savage as she grinds up against me. I break it so I can pull her lacy bralette over her head in one quick, brutal motion, then slam my lips back onto hers, palming her bare tits. They’re fucking perfect, full and round, nipples hard enough to cut glass.

She claws at my shirt in demand, groaning in protest at the barrier between us. I quickly strip it off one-handed, then yank her into my chest, skin meeting skin. She’s so soft against me, so warm and pliant. Her hard nipples scrape against the planes of muscle as she circles her hips, grinding her core against my rock hard cock.

“Fuck me, Kane,” she gasps, hands dropping to my belt, fingers scrabbling frantically against the buckle. “I know you want to.”

I do. Fuck, I’ve never wanted anything more.

We don’t bother with pleasantries. We skipped past those a long fucking time ago. She pops the button of my slacks and reaches in to wrap a hand around my thick shaft, pulling it out. The shock of her skin on mine is electric. I shove her leggings down to her ankles, rip her panties down her thighs. Then I hoist her up by the ass, slam her against the wall, and drive into her in one savage thrust.

She cries out, the sound muffled against my shoulder as her inner walls pulse around me. I’m so hard it’s fucking painful, the pressure and heat of her squeezing me tight as I bottom out. I pause there, a low groan rumbling in my chest at the sensation, giving her a second to adjust to my size before dragging out halfway and smoothly pushing back in again.

She’s wet and ready, her slickness coating my shaft as I start to move.

“Fuck,” I choke, fingers digging bruises into the soft flesh of her hips.

“Yes,” she gasps, matching me move for move, tilting to take me even deeper. “More.”

She’s not the one calling the shots here, dammit. I am. And it’s time she learns who’s in charge.

I wrap a hand around her throat, fingers tightening just enough to silence her. I pull her mouth to mine, biting at her lips as I thrust harder, faster, giving her exactly what she asked for.

There’s nothing gentle here. No sweetness or pretense. Just skin, sweat, and the raw, animal satisfaction of giving into the urge we’ve been fighting for too long.

Her legs lock around my waist, nails raking down my back until I’m certain she’s drawn blood. She’s so hot, so damn tight. She feels too fucking good. The pressure builds at the base of my spine as I grind her into the wall, my pelvis rubbing her clit with every forward thrust, edging us both closer to oblivion.

A strangled cry rips from her throat, body shuddering, eyes rolling back. She comes hard and fast, wild and unrestrained. Impossibly fucking beautiful.

The sight of her losing control unravels me. I let go, my own orgasm crashing through me in a violent wave. I buck against her, pumping her full of my claim, roaring through my release.

Our chests heave in tandem as we come back down, still tangled together and pressed against the mirrored wall, sweat cooling on our skin. Her heartbeat drums against my chest, matching mine beat for beat. Then slowly, reality creeps back in.

I pull out and lower Violet to her feet, steadying her with an arm around her waist before stepping back. She peers up at me through her eyelashes, then bands an arm across her chest like she suddenly remembers modesty exists.

“Did you really have to rip my shirt?” she mutters, eyes flicking to the abandoned pile of shredded fabric on the floor before lifting back to mine.

I grunt, bending to snag my black t-shirt off the ground and shoving it against her chest. “Take mine.”

She scoffs a laugh, snatching it from my grasp. “So chivalrous.”

I frown as I drag my pants back up over my hips, irritation sparking even as the corner of my mouth twitches. “And here I thought I could fuck some of that attitude out of you."

"Guess you’ll have to try harder next time,” she fires back, already shrugging into my shirt. The hem brushes her thighs as she stoops to gather the rest of her clothes, my cum glistening on her skin as it trickles down her leg. My inner wolf fucking preens, liking the sight of that far too much.

I shake my head with a sigh and step back, making sure she’s decent before disengaging the emergency stop. The elevator shudders back to life, resuming its slow descent. Our eyes meet again, drawn like magnets, and she doesn’t look away. Neither do I.