Page 18 of Tracked By Hound

“You’re so big,” I say, leaning in and offering him my mouth, and he takes it without a second of hesitation. I moan when our tongues meet, stroking over each other slowly at first before it turns feral. The slick friction sends warmth spreading through my body, and, distracted, my hand tightens around hisgirth, making him moan. “Sorry,” I giggle against his lips. “I never was good at multitasking.”

“You’re doing great,” he pants as I stroke his cock under the water, gauging his expression as I try different things to see what he likes the most. “Fuck, baby!” he shouts when I add my other hand and use them both to apply more pressure to my strokes.

“You like it?” I ask, drunk on excitement, as I lean in and brush my lips over his before kissing a path down to his bristled jaw. I hum at the scent clinging to his throat as I move lower, tonguing his Adam’s apple. “Hmm, you smell so good. Is that your aftershave?”

“Chelsea…”

“Yes?” Out of curiosity, I bite into his pec, and his hips shoot up, his cock jutting in my hands. I smile, daring the move once more, harder this time before soothing the spot with my tongue. He’s close. I don’t know how I know this, but I can tell that he is, so I tighten my grip on his cock, stroking him faster as I drag my tongue over his chest, and when my teeth graze his left nipple, his cock jumps in my hand, and he comes with a shout. His back falls against the rim of the tub, a rough shudder rolling through his body as I stroke him through it until he hisses and nudges my hand away.

My sex is aching with need, and I find I want to do it again. There’s something intriguing about watching a strong man like Hound come apart from my hands, and it’s a sight I would give anything to see again.

“Your turn.”

I barely have time to react before he palms my breasts. I gasp when his fingertips circle my left nipple, moaning when it puckers under his wet hands. My sex clenches in response to hiscaress, flooding with moisture with every touch, but it’s clear he has no intentions whatsoever of taking it slow like I did with him.

“Oh God,” I cry out when he dips in and takes my nipple between his lips, sucking hungrily at the sensitive bud until I’m sobbing to relieve the ache between my legs. I search blindly for his hand, guiding it between my thighs when I finally clasp his wrist. “Hound…”

His eyes flare with heat when he slides his fingers between my folds to find me slick with arousal. A moan slips out when he teases my clit, rubbing slow circles around the bud all the while keeping those dark eyes on me. “You were so good, kitten,” he praises, sliding his middle finger into my sex. “I should reward you.”

“Hmm.” My eyes flutter when his thick digit brushes over a sensitive spot inside of me. “Reward, yes.”

“You’ve earned it.”

My eyes snap open, and I whine with disappointment when he pulls his finger out of me, but the feeling doesn’t last as his hands grip my waist and he pulls me from the water before bending me over the side of the tub. I gasp at the sting when his hand slaps my butt then pulls my cheeks apart. Everything happens at once, and before I can make any sense of it, his face is buried against my core.

“Hound!” I cry out at the first stroke of tongue over my sex. He grips my hips to steady me, then parts my folds with his tongue. Then he goes mad with it, licking and sucking eagerly at my sex until I’m sobbing. I grip the tub for something to anchor myself on as he begins an assault on my senses.

A cry slips out when he slides his digit back into me, lapping at my sensitive clit as he slides his middle finger in and out me, pushing me closer and closer to an orgasm.

Oh, God. God!

“I wish I could take a picture,” he growls, voice heavy with arousal. “You look like a goddamn dream taking my finger into your tight pussy.” I blush at his words, feeling the urge to hide, but that would mean stopping. It feels like I would die if he pulled away. Christ, what has this man done to me? “Come for me, kitten.”

His free hand slides up my body and cups my breast, pinching my nipple between his fingers, and that sends me off the edge. I climax with a sob, my knees trembling, but he pins me in place as he adds another finger, sending a hot rush of pleasure licking up my body as he thrusts in and out of my sex. Somehow, that intensifies the orgasm, and I scream as another wave, stronger this time, rolls in. “Hound!” I sob, my sex clenching hard around his thick digits. “Oh God.”

“That’s it,” he says, stroking me through the orgasm. “So fucking beautiful.”

I’m trembling when he pulls me back into the water and wraps me in his arms. I know we need to leave the cooling water, but I can’t move my muscles. Not yet. I allow myself to burrow into his arms, tuning out all the thoughts that are not centered on this moment and around the man I’ve given my heart to. No scary thoughts about how we came together or the future.

No, I refuse to think of anything but the strong arms wrapped around me and the grounding scent clinging to his skin.

“I should work hard for such rewards in the future.”

When he laughs, I find that I want hear that sound every day for the rest of my life. More than anything, I want to make him laugh.Make him happy.

Chapter Eight

Hound

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm bread assaults my senses as I step into the kitchen, and I stop for a moment, taking it all in. The breakfast spread, the flowers on the counter, and the gorgeous woman bent over the island dressed in nothing but a shirt that exposes those long, beautiful legs and a pert ass I want to touch, all still feels strange even a week later.

She’s on her phone with her back to me, her hair a textured expanse of brown curls, framing her shoulders. She’s humming a tune I can’t quite place as she rapidly taps on her phone. I don’t announce my presence, instead to just watch her.

How did we get here?

Chelsea was supposed to be on lockdown in my apartment until her brother came up with the funds. The vases of wildflowers around my place are proof that it hasn't been happening that way. When she’s not making love with me or on the couch binging some show she’s obsessed with, Chelsea has been hanging out with the other women in the clubhouse, coming and going from the apartment as she pleases, though never leaving the clubhouse grounds. Not that I would stop her if she tried.

It is reckless of me to allow these feelings to cloud my judgment. She could easily sneak out and flee with her brother, but she always comes back to me. I’ve made it clear to her thatI won’t kill Ransom. But his debt must still be repaid. Saint isn’t about to let someone walk after stealing half a million dollars from the club, regardless of me falling in love with that person’s sister.

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