Page 80 of Shifters Unifying
“Fuck.” he groaned through his gritted teeth. His hand fisted in my hair, and his legs trembled. “Can’t do that for long, love,” he rasped. “So hot, so wet. So fucking good.”
I pushed against his thighs, pulling him out of my mouth before pulling him back in, increasing the suction and working my tongue against him, covering my teeth with my lips. When I repeated the move, he pushed his hips toward me, his dick pulsing in my hand, bouncing in my mouth. The drey swayed around us.
“That’s right. That’s a good girl.” He reached for one of my breasts with his freehand, curving his fingers and cupping it before capturing my nipple between his forefinger and his thumb, twisting lightly. My breath caught as the pain sent a tingly bolt of desire from my chest to my core, warmingeverything between. In all my life, I’d never wanted every part of anyone as I wanted to have every inch, every part of Logan.
He twisted again and brought my head down on him hard, stretching the back of my throat. He bent one of his legs, pushed his knee against my center, and my muffled groan vibrated my mouth. Lust and desire throbbed through the bond between us. He wanted it as much as I did.
Tension snapped through him, and his muscles flexed. “Shit, Emma… I can’t… I can’t…” He tugged on my arm, tried to pull me away from his crotch.
But I shoved his hands away, unwilling to let him distract me, savoring the control I had over his orgasm. I redoubled my efforts, and he gave in to my intent. Out and in, sometimes shallow, sometimes deep. Faster and faster. His dick hardened even more, enlarging until my fingers barely met around his circumference. He was close, and I wasn’t stopping until I got what I wanted.
Then he buried both hands in my hair, guiding the speed. Finally, he sucked in a breath, his groan ripped from his throat by my demands. He flushed.
“Oh, fuuuuuuck, Emma, I’m gonna come,” he roared, jutting his hips toward me, unable to hold on any longer.
I brought my mouth down hard, taking him as deep as I could, sucking and licking, forcing it from him. His orgasm spilled over my tongue, and when I swallowed, he collapsed over my shoulder with a shuddering, almost tortured moan. His body pulsed with the strength of his climax, and my heart matched the pounding of his, beat for beat.
Pressing kisses along the line between his pelvis and his thigh, my body hummed with accomplishment. I brought my arms up to circle his waist, pleased with my success. My thighs slid against his legs. That had turned me on nearly as much as it had him.
“What the fuck did you do to me…” he whispered, his breath feathering over my back. Carefully, he fell to the side, landing on his back on the mattress so hard the drey swayed beneath us.
“Sucked your soul right out of your dick,” I quipped, easing down onto the bed beside him. I traced a line from his forehead, over his nose, lips, and down to his chin. “Now you’re mine for eternity.”
“You can suck my soul a dozen times every day of the goddamned week, Emma, and I’d die happy.” He rolled toward me, laying his hand on my hip, brushing his thumb over my rainbow tattoo. “But I was yours anyway.”
“Well, I realized I hadn’t done that since we’d been together. Seemed fitting, and then once I’d thought of it, it was the only damn thing I wanted to do until it was done,” I murmured, shimmying on the mattress, trying to alleviate the ache between my legs.
“Now it’s your turn,” he whispered, reaching between my thighs. His fingers slipped inside without resistance. When he pulled his hand away, my wet glistened on his fingers. “Oh, you fucking liked that, don’t you?”
I nodded without speaking, studying the bed between us, maybe more than a little embarrassed by how much I enjoyed eating him and consuming the aftermath of his pleasure.
He grasped my chin and forced me to look at him. “There’s no shame here. Not between us. It pleases me,” his voice dropped to a low rumble, “that you enjoy feasting on me as much I enjoy devouring you.”
A smile twisted my mouth. “I do enjoy that.”
“What do you want now?”
I winked at him. “To ride you like a motherfucking motorcycle.”
He settled onto his back on the bed, and his mouth twisted in a wolfish grin. “Your ride awaits.”
Reddish, sunset light filtered in through the windows and the gap in the wall that Logan had made with his teeth, and I startled awake from nightmares of blood and death and Acheron. My mom, Riley, Shannon, Sheila, Callie, and even Sully-Boy had all been there, and I’d failed them all.
A snore rumbled through Logan, and I shimmied across the bed, put my back against his side, and nestled into him, glad the horror had only been a bad dream.
He curled around me and tucked his arm across my middle. “You okay?”
“It’s been too long since the clans have seen me. Actually, that brings me to a question. Alphas are supposedly required at conclaves, right? What about other shifters?” I asked, rubbing the muscles of his forearm. “The regular ones.”
“Oh, it’s up to their alphas. Some alphas allow any and all interested shifters to attend. Others only appear as the single representative of a pack. That’s why there’s usually way more attendees than just the alphas in the area.”
“Well, we should call one, and I should make an appearance.”
“What’re you thinking?”
“Call a conclave,” I said. “In one week, I’ll meet the shifter council to push for formalized unification again. Maybe Salali will have a good report to share, and then Marcus and I will leave for the trove of relics. Alone.” I tipped my head.
Logan sat upright on my bed and leaned against the lattice of branches that formed the bed frame. The yellow shadow of bruises showed through the scruff he could never quite shave often enough. “I still don’t like it,” he repeated. “Marcus can’t be trusted.”
