Page 27 of Twice Bitten
Jack’s hand tightened around mine and his thumb stopped moving. He drew in a deep breath, like a man bracing himself for a blow.
“Or you could stick around for a few hours.” He swallowed again, and he kept looking down. He couldn’t seem to meet my eyes. His voice dropped to that rumble again, and he said, “The way you reacted when you fed—”
My chest clenched. “No!” How could he mention that? Howdarehe, when I couldn’t fucking help it and the person being fed on should’ve been the one to feel that way, gods dammit? “That doesn’t mean anything!”
Now he looked at me, and the wild, hungry desire in those glowing eyes had my cock hardening again in my still-damp boxer briefs.
“We have a connection,” he growled. “Not a bond. But something close. It wouldn’t have formed if we didn’t—Angelo, for fuck’s sake. I almost tore your clothes off and fucked you right there on the ground. You think you’re the only one who felt that way?”
Oh, thank gods. If I’d been alone in that feeling…
“You have a mate,” I protested. Weakly. Because I didn’t have much more to give in the way of denial. Every cell in my body wanted him, wanted everything he had to give me.
It might not be enough. Maybe it could never be enough. But I couldn’t have more than this, so it had to be anyway.
“Not for long,” he shot back without hesitation. “And Nate was right. The bond’s weak. It always was, and it’s even weaker now. I don’t love him anymore, Angelo. If I ever really did. And he sure as hell doesn’t give a fuck about me. Do you feel like you owe that son-of-a-bitch mate of yours any kind of loyalty? Or fidelity?”
No, I didn’t. And Jack didn’t either. You could only cling to your empty, unreciprocated principles by the tips of your fingernails for so long before they became self-sabotaging bullshit.
Fuck it. Fuck it all.
“I can stay for a few hours,” I said huskily.
Jack smiled, that wicked grin that’d made my heart beat faster from the moment I saw it the first time.
And then he leaned in toward me, slowly enough that I could’ve pulled away.
I didn’t.
Chapter 9
Never Be the Same Again
Jack’s mouth on mine felt like falling off a cliff and knowing that hitting the ground would be the best fucking thing to ever happen to me. He kept the kiss gentle, coaxing me open—not that I needed coaxing.
Finally. Fuck,finally.
His tongue teased into my mouth, tasting me. Gods, I wanted more of him. The essence of him, the taste of his mouth and the flavor of his blood and the scent of his body and his magic.
My arms went up around his shoulders, and I groaned at the feeling of him so big and warm and solid under my hands, skimming my palms over his muscles and then clutching onto his biceps so hard it would’ve made a human cry out in pain.
He simply growled into my mouth, bearing me back down onto the bed with irresistible force.
Not that I wanted to resist.
I spread my legs as much as I could underneath the pile of blankets, and he settled between, his weight pinning me so deliciously that I writhed under him, arching up—and he pushed me down, keeping me there. Holding me down and forcing me to take that too-careful assault on all my senses.
I tore away from the kiss and mouthed along his jaw. “I’m not going to break,” I gasped into his skin. Salty and sweet andamazing, and how had I ever thought werewolves wouldn’t taste good? Although most werewolves wouldn’t. This perfection was all Jack, both because and in spite of what he was. “Kiss me like you mean it, furball.”
Jack shook with laughter, nuzzling under my ear and nipping at my throat. I threw my head back and moaned, helpless against the zing of desire his mouth sent down, and down, until I tried again to press up and getanyfriction on my aching cock.
He seized my chin between his fingers and turned my head. For a moment he gazed down at me, eyes flashing and fangs starting to show, and oh, fucking hell but that shouldn’t have made me want to roll over and beg—and then he kissed me like he fucking meant it, fucking my mouth with his tongue and rucking my undershirt up to run his hands over my bare skin.
A whirlwind of tearing at our clothing and shoving at the blankets later, his mouth ravaging mine and never stopping, he had me spread out under him, naked and panting. I had no idea if my boxer briefs had survived their short acquaintance with his big, claw-tipped hands. And I couldn’t bring myself to care, because I couldn’t look away from Jack’s bare chest and the curves and angles of his shoulders and arms, the line of black hair arrowing down to…oh, gods. To the largest bulge I’d ever seen in a pair of black jeans.
Or, for that matter, anywhere.
He crouched over me, braced on his hands, and grinned. “You never gave me a straight answer. About whether you’d gotten fucked by an alpha.”
