Page 20 of North

“That’s it,” I growled, latching onto her clit again and sucking hard. She clenched around my fingers like a vice, and I knew she was close. “Come for me. Don’t fucking hold back.”

Her orgasm hit like a wave crashing against the shore, her entire body arching off the tree as she screamed my name. Her thighs clamped around my head, her muscles squeezing my fingers as if she couldn’t let go.

But I didn’t stop.

“One’s not enough,” I said, pulling back just enough to catch my breath before diving back in. My tongue flicked over her clit mercilessly as my fingers kept working her. “You’re giving me another. And then another. You’ll keep coming until you can’t even fucking stand, rabbit. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to wreck you.”

“North,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as her body shuddered violently. Her second orgasm ripped through her almost immediately, more intense than the first. Her nails raked against my scalp, her head falling back as she let out a raw, guttural moan.

I finally pulled back, my chest heaving as I licked my lips, savoring her taste. She was trembling, her body slack against the tree, her hazel eyes dazed and glassy as she tried to catch her breath.

“You taste so fucking good,” I muttered, my voice rough as I straightened, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I could get addicted to this.”

Her glare flickered with anger, a faint spark of defiance breaking through the haze.

“You’re such a fucking slut,” she spat, though her voice shook with exhaustion.

I laughed, dark and unrepentant, towering over her as I tilted her chin up to meet my eyes. “Maybe,” I said, my smirk widening. “But you’re the one who just came twice on my tongue and begged for more. What does that make you?”

Her cheeks flushed, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to retort but couldn’t find the words.

I stepped back, smirking as I watched her struggle to compose herself, her legs still trembling, her body wrecked.

“You’ll thank me later,” I said over my shoulder as I walked away, leaving her leaning against the tree, disheveled and undone. “Now go back home, Quinn. You don’t belong here.”

But even as I walked away, my mind was still on her. I could still taste her on my tongue, feel her nails in my scalp, hear the way she cried my name like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. I stopped to lean against a tree, just to take a breath, and my palm cupped my cock instinctively.

No matter how much I wanted to hate her, no matter how much I told myself to walk away…

I knew I’d be back. There was something addictive about her that I couldn’t get out of my head, and it was more than just the thought of screwing Lauren’s daughter and leaving her pussy ruined.

Chapter 7

Quinn

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the past few days over and over.

North was ignoring me.

No. Not just ignoring me—avoiding me.

Victor and Connor had already stopped paying attention to me. That was expected, and honestly, a relief. They were assholes, and I’d rather not be on their radar. But North? North was different. He was the one who kissed me, touched me, and made me feel something real. And now, after everything, he wanted to act like nothing happened? That pissed me off the most.

Three days had passed since the bonfire, and I was still confused about why the hell we’d gone so far. Was it the alcohol? Or something more?

I wish I knew. It would’ve helped if we could talk about it, but apparently that was too far-fetched despite the fact that we’d exchanged saliva and more at this point.

Today, at dinner, he hadn’t looked at me once. Not when I walked in, not when I sat down, not when I brushed past him on the way to grab a drink. He had barely moved, fingers drumming against the recliner arm, his usual sharp, cocky remarks nowhere to be found. I told myself I didn’t care, but that was a lie. It gnawed at me, deep and persistent, heating my skin and making it impossible to sleep.

After another hour of tossing and turning, I gave up. Slipping out of bed, I walked downstairs, my stomach grumbling. The house was dark and quiet as I made my way to the kitchen, only the faint hum of the fridge breaking the silence.

I wasn’t expecting to find Summer there, perched on the counter with a tub of chocolate ice cream in her lap. Her oversized sleep shirt slipped off one shoulder, and loose strands of hair framed her face. She looked relaxed, but there was something about the redness in her eyes that made me hesitate. Either she was high, or she’d been crying. Maybe both.

She grinned when she saw me. “Midnight snack?”

I grabbed a spoon from the drawer. “Something like that.”

She tilted the ice cream toward me. “Help yourself. Misery loves company.”

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