Page 106 of Ruthless Alpha Beast
Then I press forward until I’m buried completely inside of her, my chest hard against hers, our breath slowly intertwining in frantic gasps.
I try to stay still, to savor the way it feels to be inside her for a second. But she rolls her hips, and it’s over.
I fall through into oblivion and completely lose whatever control I had left.
The bark of the tree scrapes against my knuckles as I pin her tighter. Tara cries out, her voice breaking into raw sounds that echo through the forest.
Then her movements turn wild, her legs grip my waist, her back arches, and her lips crash against mine.
“I want you so much,” she whispers.
We’re completely connected, our bodies working in unison, straining against one another.
I can’t stop.
Her moans, her scent, her everything is my new reality. Everything I know and want.
I pound faster, my lips trailing over her collarbone, her breasts, and her throat. Each thrust is rougher, deeper, twisting with need. Then I feel something shift.
Her body begins to tense and quake around me. Her cries become higher, deeper.
I groan her name as her body shakes around me. She moans loudly, her shaking pussy coming around my dick.
It’s too much.
With one last pump, I release my load deep inside her back walls. A wave of euphoria, deeper than the last, pulses through my veins.
I hang my head lifelessly over her shoulder, still trembling, still inside her, clinging to the only thing that feels real.
I close my eyes, preparing to slip into nothingness, when suddenly something flashes through my mind’s eye.
I don’t understand it at first, it’s like a dream or a memory, but so much more vivid.
A tall flower in perfect condition stands before me, with feathery white petals. The petals are falling, slowly, one by one.
I catch my breath, force my eyes open, and look at Tara, whose face is overcome with shock.
Chapter 21 - Tara
This time, the hunt is during the day, and I was the one who called it.
After Jasper and I made love, we both saw that flower. It was the strangest thing. Another vision—a shared vision we both immediately understood—related to the curse.
I should have known from my research that the crown of feathers could represent the fragility of something like a flower.
It makes so much sense now, of course.
Jasper walks beside me, his hand brushing mine every now and then. Behind us are the witches, and as per usual, there are two witches for every one shifter.
This hunt, I feel prepared.
We were advised to take a certain route around the forest, one that follows areas with the most flowers, where the forest land is sunny and moist. Our team helped map this out into a perfect route, under the direction of Jasper, of course.
“This way,” Jasper beckons the group behind us.
Like last hunt, everyone is working together harmoniously. But this time, we’re more focused. More sure of where we’re supposed to go.
We finally have something more tangible to work with, and both Jasper and I have the image of it.
