Page 25 of Lone Wolf

“Next time you want to throw me down, girl,” I say, my voice a breathless challenge, “buy me dinner first.”

She freezes for a split second and I see turmoil in her eyes—desire. Anger. That ice wall cracking…

And then Ariadne’s mouth crushes down on mine in a bruising kiss.

With raw need, I yank up her top, let her sweet little tits fall into my hands as she writhes on top of me. My hands are full of asoftness I never thought Ariadne had about her—but only for a second. Then she’s grabbing my wrists and pinning them down over my head.

Shit. I just went on in for the grope without even asking if she was?—

“If you want me to stop, tell me to stop,” she breathes harshly.

I’m panting just as hard. “Fuck you,” I tell her. “I don’t want to stop.”

And she kisses me again. Maybe “kisses” is the wrong word—Ariadne doesn’t kiss so much as consume, like my soul is leaving my body and getting sucked into hers. She slots her leg between mine and starts to grind on me.

I gasp as her thigh pushes hard into my pussy, and I wriggle to get a better position. And then her mouth is on my neck, biting, sucking, and I’m pushing back against her hands. Ariadne’s grip is tight, the kind of tight that is gonna leave a mark, and my blood sings at the thought. She bites the top of my shoulder and then runs her tongue across my collarbone.

I’m going to fucking explode if she doesn’t get a hand on my cunt right now.

As if she can read my mind, her hand lets go of one of my wrists, slides down between us, and her fingers press over my clit. “Holy shit,” I hiss, and she pulls back.

“Is this?—”

“This is more than fucking okay,” I gasp out. And then I grab her by the face and drag her mouth back to mine.

Her kiss is rough and urgent even as her fingers tease gentle circles around my clit. The pleasure builds, the muscles in my stomach tightening, my thighs quivering. I fight my other wrist free from her grip and yank at her pants, pulling them down so I can get my hand into her underwear.

“Can I—” I start, and she just shoves my hand down further as a response. She’s wet, slick, and her whole body jolts as I slip two fingers alongside her clit, mimicking her movements on mine. Her breath quickens and she doesn’t let up, her mouth hot against mine, our fingers echoing each other. I’m losing control of my words, my thoughts. Everything is centered on her, what her fingers are doing to me, what I’m doing to her, and the pleasure that’s building inside me.

And then she stops, pulling her hand free just so she can suck on her fingers. I pull her down to kiss me after, tasting the faintest hint of me on her lips, and then her fingers slide down into my panties again and press right into my cunt.

I groan and arch my back at the delicious stretch as she fills me. Her movements are perfect but practiced, but fuck if I’m going to complain. She knows exactly what she’s doing, curling her fingers inside me, finding that spot that makes my vision blur. Her rhythm falters for just a second when I press deeper into her, and I can feel her clench around my fingers. It’s intoxicating, having this effect on her when she’s usually so composed.

“Sunny,” she breathes, and it’s the first time she’s said my name like that—like it’s being ripped from somewhere deep inside her.

We’re moving together now, the mat squeaking beneath us. Anyone could walk in at any moment, but I don’t care. Let thewhole damn Syndicate hear us. Let them know I’m making the Ice Queen melt.

“Harder,” I gasp out.

She obliges, adding another finger and driving deeper, her thumb circling my clit with ruthless precision. My own fingers are buried inside her, feeling her walls clench around me as I search for the rhythm that’ll make her crack completely. When I find it, she makes this sound—half gasp, half moan—that sends electricity straight to my core. I finger-fuck her harder, watching her face as the control she prizes so much starts to slip.

“Come on, baby,” I whisper, “let me see you come apart.”

Ariadne’s rhythm falters for just a moment before she doubles down, her fingers working with renewed vigor like she’s determined not to be the first to break. But I’m just as determined, so I wiggle down a little, getting a better angle, and then I lean up to take one of her shaking, tempting nipples into my mouth. I suck hard, biting down just a little, and she gasps, her whole body trembling.

And then I feel it—her inner walls clamping down on my fingers as she comes, her body going rigid, the soft moan that she gives. She’s fucking gorgeous like this, all that control shattered. Her fingers stutter inside me, but it doesn’t matter, because I’m already coming too, arching up off the mat as I ride her hand.

For a few moments, there’s only the sound of our harsh breathing, then the slick slide as we pull away from each other. Ariadne collapses beside me on the mat, our bodies still touching from shoulder to hip. The air smells like sex and sweat and…something electric.

It’s us. We were electric together.

“Well,” I manage after a minute, “that’s one way to work off steam.”

She doesn’t reply right away, and I turn my head to look at her. Her eyes are closed, chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Then—without a word—Ariadne begins to disentangle herself from me, yanking her clothes back in place.

I sit up, head still swimming with endorphins. “Wait,” I say. “What are you…”

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