Page 14 of Urban Gladiator

Time stretched while he ate my pussy. I had no idea how much time had passed. Every molecule in my being was on fire. My nipples had beaded into hard points. My body quaked with the need to climax.

And my grasp on my control slipped with every flick against my clit and plunge of his tongue inside me.

“Come for me, damn you, woman.”

Through clenched teeth, I gritted out, “No. Piss off.”

He attacked my pussy, lapping at my cream as if it brought him sustenance. But I held fast, refusing to drop the dampener spell. I would not break. I would not beg.

He nipped my clit. And my hips bucked. I sucked in a ragged breath. My lungs heaved. With every ounce of strength inside me, I tried staving off the impending explosion.

Rowan lifted his head.

I bit back a whimper as he rose onto his knees. Rowan gripped his shaft and rubbed it through my swollen folds, and a pained whimper escaped me. Dammit. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

But I couldn’t help it. He was rubbing the head of his shaft up and down my slit, circling my clit, and driving me mad with lust.

“Give in, witch.”

“Never,” I swore.

My back arched as he entered me. And I wasn’t prepared for what came next. He leveraged his body above mine. The feel of his chest pressed against mine, the scrape of his chest hair against my nipples, doused my body in an inferno. Like he’d poured liquid fire in my veins.

Buried deep inside me, deeper than any man before him, he cupped the side of my face. His gaze flipped from man to beast and back again. And his mouth, which was made for sin, crashed over mine.

I’d been kissed before. Many times. I’d even had a wizard drag me into an alley during the feasting this week and kiss me.

But I’d never experienced anything like Rowan’s kiss.

It stripped me down. It punched a hole through my magic, and the spell dissolved. I was too far gone to recast it.

I moaned into his mouth, involuntarily rocking my hips because I ached for friction. He growled, his mouth never leaving mine as he moved, shifting and withdrawing until only the tip of him remained, before thrusting so hard the bed shook.

Unlike the two previous bouts, he didn’t rush. He used excessive force and was rough with his thrusts. But he took his time, as if he had used up the frenetic need to rush. And now he was enjoying hanging out in my pussy like he had all the time in the world.

My sheath pulsed around his shaft.

Oh god, how would I survive this? He would win. There was no way I could stem the tide of pleasure. My body had been aroused for far too long without surcease. I needed to come in the worst way.

But I refused to beg. I prayed that my body would take it out of my hands.

He kept kissing me. His tongue tangled with mine while his shaft plunged deep, his hair brushing my cheeks. I squeezed my inner walls, clutching at his cock.

He tore his mouth away. “Don’t do that.”

So I did it again. If he thought he had the upper hand in this, he was delusional.

With a snarl, he thrust again. His pace quickened until he pounded inside me. He fucked me like he hated me. Like he was working all his frustrations out on my pussy.

And my body delighted in his rough fucking.

My toes curled and my legs jerked. Pleasure coiled in my abdomen, tighter and tighter. He had so much stamina it was insane. It had to be the wolf in him.

He rose onto his hands. His thrusts grew rougher still. Until it felt as if he was trying to rip me in half.

Sweat slicked our skin.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

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