Page 37 of Pretty Little Prey
Bastille let out a frustrated breath before pacing back and forth, in front of his bed. The king of the motherfucking Dark Ones, the most dangerous of shifters, was attracted—mated!—to a Duttur prey? A sheep shifter. When he first beheld her pale as snow hair, he thought of her as a little lamb, but Duttur were thought to be extinct.
Earlier, she had said someone was hunting her.Bastillehad said he would give her to the hunter.
That was before I cupped her tits and watched her come on my friend’s mouth.
Even now, the memory seared his brain. The way Nikolai had fed from her neck and fingered her wet pussy. The sounds she made when Kobe knelt between her legs and attacked her clit with his tongue like it was a popsicle and he was trapped in a desert. Bastille had clutched her luscious breasts in his hands and demanded that she orgasm for them. And, like a good, obedient prey, she did as she was told.
Fucking flawless. It was annoying as hell. She didn’t seem to notice how stunning she was. So delicate, yet her eyes screamed war. A fighter’s soul stuck inside a princess’ body. Unbelievably sexy.
The way she moaned…
The pheromones she had put off…
Fuck, I need to come, Bastille thought as he sank back onto his mattress. His cock had remained hard for her—hours after finding out what she was. It had been hard to think, brainstorm, or plan with the rest of the guys due to his hard-on.
Even now, just the thought of her soft white-blond hair made his breath hitch and his chest tighten.Want her so fucking much. He wanted her on her knees for him, submitting to his pleasure. He wanted her gripping the headboard of his bed to support herself through his ruthless fucking.
He wanted her screaming for him, screaminghisname, and coming all over his cock.
He wanted to kiss her neck before giving her his claiming bite—one that would remain visible to all paranormals, proving that she was his. Forever.
Clearly, he was not about to claim her forever. It was already agitating to want the same woman as Daxton. To share a mate with the man he hated? He was capable of a lot—mostly violence—but he was not capable of that.
Just need to work her out of my system and forget about her, he thought to himself.It’s just been so long since I’ve felt sexual desire. He was pent up—that was all. All of his twisted thoughts about the stray sheep shifter would straighten themselves out after he relieved himself of his arousal.
The image of Luna’s head thrown back, her mouth open and forming the perfect O as she came on Kobe’s tongue, pierced through his mind again.
Shit.
He still remembered pleasuring her pussy and tasting her on his fingers. Utter sweetness.
Bastille stood—only to whip off his shirt and unbuckle his pants.
Going to fuck my fist until I stop thinking about that little lamb.
Chapter 15
No way was he about to… He couldn’t just…
Luna stared, wide-eyed, shocked, and turned on as she watched Bastille strip from where she hid in his closet. His hands moved in a rushed urgency to unbutton his black shirt and push it off his shoulders.
Abs.
Rock hard, defined abs and muscular pectorals lay beneath various tattoos, most of which looked to be artistic snakes slithering over his smooth skin.
His fingers battled to unbuckle his belt and rip down his pants’ zipper. His clothes were shoved away, no barriers left to hide the stunning taut skin.
Luna’s breath stalled as she beheld his thickness.
Bastille’s enormous erection looked painful. The reddened tip of his cock appeared wrathful as it slapped his hard, muscular stomach, demanding to be touched. Her gaze leisurely ran over the dusky, tantalizing color of his sensitive flesh and the veined lines that angrily pulsed along the length of him.
Bastille raised his right palm to his mouth and a serpentine-like tongue unraveled and laved over the skin of his hand, dampening it. Then, he used that same hand to wrap around his stiff cock.
Oh. Oh no.I’m not supposed to be watching this. Luna clenched her eyes shut and bit her lip. Two seconds later, Luna’s eyelids fluttered open once more—the temptation too strong to resist.
Though she knew Bastille to be an asshole alpha, there was something about watching him pleasure himself that made her mouth dry and her throat constrict into a slow swallow. The way he had touched her earlier… His filthy words… She had never been so turned on.
And now, this?
