Page 41 of Pretty Little Prey
“So smooth,” he whispered to himself as his thumb stroked her ankle. “Fuck, what are you doing to me?”
He released her but threw himself onto the bed, over her, crawling up to meet her gaze. He held himself up, above her, his forearm tense. Mere inches separated their naked bodies.
Tremors rolled over Bastille’s stomach as he gripped himself tightly and tugged. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”
“W-What?” she asked breathlessly.
“The dragon’s mate. A prey.” He shook his head. “Can’t stop thinking about you coming for me. Again and again.”
Her back curved off the mattress. Her hips bucked and caused her soaked pussy to grind against where he squeezed his arousal.Sweet, bare contact.
“Fuck,” Bastille gritted out between sharp, white teeth. His hand fell from himself and suddenly his weight was on her, his cock aligned to her damp slit. He ground his hips down on her, pressing his shaft over her aching clit. Back and forth. Back and,oh, forth.
“Please,” she begged, unsure what she begged for.
He held himself with one arm, his free hand moving to fold around her throat like a collar. “Why can’t I stop thinking about you? Want to fucking consume you.”
Her head turned mindlessly from side to side on the pillow as he continued to surge forward, urging her to rock against his erection.
Her thighs trembled as her body went pliant and obedient for him. “Please, please.”
Abruptly, an agonized roar shook the cabin.
Chapter 17
The roar pierced her eardrums, echoing around and bouncing off all the hardwood in the cabin.
Bastille and Luna froze on the bed, their wide eyes meeting. Hand still around her throat, Bastille turned his head to glance at the door. Two seconds later, the door slammed open as Kobe bellowed, “She is gone!”
Silence. Silence as Kobe saw Bastille and Luna’s naked bodies on the bed.
“Moonbeam?” Kobe asked softly, the tension in those broad shoulders easing.
Bastille and Luna were still frozen. His hand still around her throat.
“You found her?” another voice trailed into the room just as Sly poked his head inside. The fox shifter grinned from ear to ear at what he saw. “Oh, snap. Orgy time?”
“Get the fuck out,” Bastille ordered harshly from the bed.
Casually, Sly leaned back against the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest. He nodded at Luna. “Does this mean we’re keeping her?” he asked. “Keeping the dragon’s mate would be an act of war.”
Bastille’s breaths grew heavier as his jaw clenched.
“Plus, you know the prophecy,” Sly said with a pointed look.
“Prophecy?” Luna asked.
But Bastille’s expression was a prison meant for only the most evil of villains—meaning his every emotion went on lockdown.
Letting go of her throat, he pushed himself off her, leaving her shivering and exposed on the bed. “Of course we’re not keeping her,” Bastille loudly remarked. “I was simply…sampling. The dragon deserves my sloppy seconds for once.”
Sloppy seconds?She felt something crack in her chest and grow cold.
“She’s a meek, weak prey,” Bastille insulted her, his back to her while he spoke to his friends. “She doesn’t belong with us.”
Meek. Weak.
I nearly let a predator have sex with me. Useme. Again. Had she learned nothing after Rohan? Betrayal, a broken heart, a lost family, and life on the run had not been enough to drive the lesson home?
