Page 32 of Runt's Haunted Ride
"I—" he said, his voice ragged. "Not before..."
"Not before," I agreed, sliding my hands up his chest to loop around his neck.
I stood, swiveled, hiked my towel up, and straddled him. "I'm sure." I pulled him closer. "I've never been more sure of anything. Please, Jack. Before everything changes. Before I burn. I need—I need to be—"
"Mine," he growled, his hands already moving, one sliding into my damp hair while the other wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him.
Something in him snapped. The careful control he'd been maintaining shattered, and suddenly his mouth was on mine again, fierce and demanding. His hands roamed over me, learning the shape of me, and everywhere he touched left trails of fire in its wake.
"We have to be quick," he murmured against my neck, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below my ear. "Tell me if you want me to stop."
"Jack, I'm not very experienced. I mean, I've had sex, but it was—"
"Kai," Jack spoke into my ear.
"Yes?" I whimpered.
"Stop talking."
Chapter 10
Kai
For three years, I'd been cold. Trapped. Dying over and over with no hope, no future, no reason to believe anything would ever change. But now—now there was a plan. A real plan. And this man, my mate, had risked everything to give it to me.
My hands went to his shirt, fingers pulling at the t-shirt fabric with desperate efficiency.
Jack pulled my towel open. His mouth went to my breast, kissing and sucking.
I gasped, grinding down against him, feeling the hard length of him through his jeans. The mate bond sang between us. My phoenix was humming with anticipation.
"Tell me if I hurt you," he growled against my lips, his hand sliding down to grip my ass. "Tell me if you want me to stop."
"Don't stop," I panted, my hands finally getting his shirt up so I could run my palms over the warm, solid muscle of his chest. "Don't you dare stop."
His mouth found mine again, swallowing my words as his hand moved between us, softly pushing me back. I heard thesound of his belt, his zipper, and then his cock was there—right there. When he rubbed against my belly, I closed my eyes at the heat inside me.
"Look at me," he commanded softly, and I opened my eyes to meet his. "I want to see you when I make you mine."
"Yes," I whispered. "Please—"
He placed his hands under my hips and easily lifted me up. He angled me so I leaned against his chest. One of his hands left my hip. Then he pushed himself into me slowly, carefully, watching my face for any sign of pain. There was pressure, a brief sting of discomfort—it had been a while—but it felt so perfect having him inside. Our mate bond energy radiating off of us.
"Are you alright?" he asked through gritted teeth, his whole-body trembling with the effort of holding still. "Kai?"
"Don't stop," I told him, my hands gripping his shoulders. "Please, Jack, don't stop."
He started to move, lifting me slowly and carefully at first, but I could feel his control slipping with each thrust. I caught his rhythm, sliding up and down his wide cock. My body adjusted to him quickly, the discomfort fading into something else entirely—a pleasure that built and built until I was gasping his name.
"You're so warm, so perfect." His voice was rough in my ear. "That's my girl. Let me hear you."
Time lost all meaning. There was only sensation—his cock filling me with each slide of skin on skin. Our breathing matched. His hands helped me rise and fall. The mate bond blazing between us like wildfire, binding us together in ways that had nothing to do with the physical.
"Jack," I sobbed as the pleasure crested higher, my nails digging into his back. "Mark me. Please."
Still inside, Jack paused.
I looked at him; afraid I'd said something wrong.
